//------------------------------// // 8. The Messenger // Story: This Game of Mine // by Swan Song //------------------------------//   “Our fate is not sealed. With the proper will, and enough force, it can be rewritten.” —Death of Fate            S W E E T I E   B E L L E   Some mornings, I’d wake up and just lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, wondering if I actually did have better things to do with my time than, well… lay in bed and stare at the ceiling. But if the past hour or so of lying practically comatose under the covers was any indication, the answer to that question was leaning heavily towards a resounding no. I wasn’t allowed back at school for the rest of the week. I couldn’t go hang out with my friends, since that was exactly where they were right this moment. And I doubted anyone was online for me to game with—much as I loved Eternity, it wasn’t exactly fun playing alone. To say nothing of the fact that the last several days had utterly exhausted me to the bone, of course. But ignoring all that, when I got right down to it, I just didn’t want to get out of bed. I didn’t know whether it was out of laziness or boredom, and quite frankly I didn’t care. I could have sat in that bed for the rest of the day if I felt like it, picking out little shapes and objects from the stucco patterning in the ceiling for all I cared. And, all things considered, I really felt like it. My bladder, however, felt otherwise. Ugh. Damn you, weak little mortal physiology. Damn you for interposing yourself between me and my lethargy. With a heavy sigh, I threw the covers off my bed and hopped down to the floor. I didn’t even bother to glance in the mirror as I made my way to the door—not like my looks mattered much if I wasn’t going out anyways. Heh, maybe I could even squeeze an expression of abject horror out of my sister. That’d be a great way to start off the morning. Well, aside from the fact that I really didn’t want to see Rarity right now. She’d probably assail me with things to do the moment she knew I was awake. And so, it was with muffled hoofsteps that I slipped out the door and stealthily made my way to the— “Sweetie Belle, darling, is that you?” …Horseapples. “Uh, hey, sis,” I called from over the upstairs railing. “Oh finally, you’re awake.” Rarity poked her head out from her imagination room just below. “Come be a dear and help me paohh my Stars, Sweetie Belle, did you even brush?!” Well, at least I got that expression I was hoping for. “Nope,” I replied nonchalantly. “…Well do hurry and get yourself tidied up. I’m leaving to meet with Cirque du Poné in Manehattan tomorrow afternoon, and I could certainly use your help packing!” “You know, I’d love to, buuuut…” I leaned my chin lazily on the railing, my forehooves dangling over the edge. “I was actually thinking about just kinda, well, relaxing. And not doing anything.” “Oh, but that simply cannot do!” she chided with a good-natured hoof-wave. “If you’re going to be spending the rest of the week at home, you might as well keep yourself busy!” “Sounds more like you’ll be the one keeping me busy,” I grumbled. “Ah, now you’re getting it,” she replied with a roguish grin. “Ta for now!” With that, she zipped back into her room, the door shutting behind her. Somehow I got the feeling this day would last longer than I wanted it to.     S I L V E R   S P O O N   It was a most curious thing, walking to school alone that morning. Taking the path with Diamond Tiara had become an integral part of my daily routine. Often we would chat about everything under the sun—schoolwork, our respective family businesses, schemes for ruining the Crusaders’ day, or snide comments about the various passersby milling about on their morning commute. Such as the gray mailmare who had swooped overhead just moments ago. “Hey look, there goes that dope-eyed pegasus again,” Diamond would have likely said. “Two lunars she’ll fly into that tree,” I whispered under my breath to nopony. BAM. “I’m okaaaaay!” I stifled a giggle. “Looks like you owe me, Diamond…” But she didn’t. After all, I was alone. Bereft of her endless prattle, the journey had been haunted with a heavy stillness that quickly grew discomforting. I began humming a tune to drown out the quietness—anything to distract from how exposed I felt without her by my side. In time, my mind was lost to the low rumble of a subdued contrabass and the rising swell of hopeful strings.     They glared at me from across the lunch tables. Even as I faced away from them and attempted to focus on finishing my meal, I could still feel their heated gazes boring into the back of my head. Well, I suppose that was a bit reaching. One couldn’t actually feel the heat of somepony’s stare. Such a silly thing to say, really. Who in Sun’s name could have come up with the ridiculous notion that another pony’s gaze could produce the sensation of warmth? …Perhaps the same pony who realized their heart wouldn’t settle when they knew they had earned somepony’s ire. Curious which of the three were currently watching, I casually turned my head. Ah. The orange one. She didn’t even bother to redirect her gaze after we made eye contact—instead, she narrowed her eyes, her stare piercing right through my eye sockets. …That was a rather morbid analogy as well. Prose is strange. I broke my gaze with the Crusader and turned back to my lunch, dining in silence. I couldn’t help but notice that my thoughts were certainly traveling to some particularly curious places today, at least without the constant companionship of Diamond. I supposed it was some kind of self-defense mechanism triggered by my subconsciousness to contest the dreary nature of loneliness. That conclusion offered precious little comfort. Like myself, the Crusaders were evidently displeased with yesterday’s turn of events. After all, our best of friends had been dismissed from school grounds over a fight that could have easily been avoided. I suppose I should have taken heart in having dodged that bullet. Despite my participation, Sweetie Belle didn’t seem intent on holding me accountable for any of my actions over the last week or so, and nor did the school administration. Considering the allegations that had been cast about during the hearing, letting Diamond take the lead during the schoolyard confrontation yesterday had been a wise move indeed. Much of the responsibility had been misdirected onto her, and I was, once again, spared. That being said, it had been a relatively close call—I had come under the eye of scrutiny several times, far too often for comfort. Diamond had been extraordinarily reckless this last week, so perhaps some distance was warranted, after all. A shame that said distance would leave me with nopony to spend time with during school breaks, or even to pass notes with during class. How droll. My lunch finished, I rose from my seat and trotted over to the trashcan to dispose of it. With a sigh, I stared out to the courtyard, where dozens of other school kids were already frolicking about with their artless little amusements. The day had become so utterly tedious, I was almost begging for something even remotely exciting to— “Scoots, no, don’t even waste yer time.“ “Hey, gimme some space, okay? I gotta do this.” Drat. Curse my own wayward inclinations. “Hey you,” growled a boyish voice, almost directly behind me. As if the day couldn’t get more irksome, I now had a pest buzzing in my ear. Perhaps if I ignored it, it would bug off— “I’m talking to you, filly,” came her voice again. No such providence. Feh. With a groan, I turned around and found myself face to face with Scootaloo, the other two Crusaders trailing just a few meters behind her. While Button Mash and Apple Bloom seemed hesitant to step forward, Scootaloo clearly held no such reservations, her forelegs dug slightly into the dirt in what appeared to be a guarded stance. I had always pictured Scootaloo to be the leader of their little cadre—headstrong, outspoken, proud (though for what reasons I could not fathom). She certainly seemed the pony to take charge. I, on the other hoof, was most certainly not that type of pony by any stretch of the imagination. Yet, with Diamond’s absence, I was faced with the prospect of having to deal with Scootaloo on my own. I’d have been lying if I said I wasn’t even slightly intimidated. Fortunately, I was very good at lying. “I don’t engage with ill-mannered proles incapable of addressing another pony with even a modicum of respect,” I said, carefully morphing my outward tone into a mixture of haughtiness and apathy. “Pfft!” she scoffed, not relaxing in the slightest. “Does it look like I give a flying feather about respecting you?” I rolled my eyes dramatically. “Of course not. I can’t imagine you were ever taught deference to your betters by whatever uneducated simpletons had raised you.” Already, she had begun fuming. “Hey, you take that back—!“ “I shall do no such thing, you simple-minded buffoon,” I replied, turning my nose to her. “You incited this confrontation, so you best expect—“ “Right,” she spat, “just like how you and Diamond provoked yesterday’s fight, yeah?” ...Feh. “Perhaps if your friend hadn’t struck Diamond earlier that morning, she wouldn’t have—“ “Sure as a sickle on Sunday you and Diamond had started that one too,” said Apple Bloom, finally breaking her silence. “And what proof do you have?” I shot back to the filly. “Your baseless allegations amount to nothing.” “They mean a lot when yer the ones who always pick the fights with us in the first place.” “That’s rich, coming from the one whose friend beat mine into submission,” I retorted coldly, and she cringed. “Did you see the bruises on Diamond’s face? Do you see this?” I waved a hoof at my side, where my gray coat was still slightly reddened and bruised from when Sweetie Belle had slammed into me yesterday. Apple Bloom jawed as she struggled to retort. “Y-yeah, well y’all wouldn’t stop—“ “She could have easily just walked away, and everything would have been fine—” “That’s a load of manure and you know it!” snapped Scootaloo. “You two are always railing on us, and you just expect us to walk away?!” “Me? Expect you? Perish the thought. I’m surprised you weren’t the one to strike first, you vicious little hellion—“ In an instant, Scootaloo flared her wings and dashed forward with a furious glare in her eyes, and I recoiled, throwing up my hooves in defense—until she was suddenly yanked back as both her friends latched onto her rear legs. “Scootaloo, no!” yelped Button. “Calm yer knickers—!” implored Apple Bloom. She scowled, her front hooves pawing at the ground. “Grrr— get off me so I can teach this shit stain a lesson—!” In defiance of my own trembling hooves, I willed myself to stand tall, even lean forward. “Yes, please, do so!” I taunted over the roar of my own pounding heartbeat. “Strike me, I dare you! Strike me and prove me right!” I locked eyes with her and stood my ground with as much willpower as I could muster. Scootaloo snarled menacingly at me, teeth bared, her pupils narrowed into tiny pinpricks. But I was right. She couldn’t touch me. If she struck first, she would be the one in trouble—the school would see to that. And it was clear, in the gritting of her teeth and the slight quiver of her lips, that she knew this as well as I. Within moments, she had loosened her stance and returned to full height—but her fiery gaze never left mine. Like it mattered. I had won this encounter. My heart slowed to a steady rhythm as the adrenaline bled from my system. “Very wise, little Crusader.” I threw back my braid with a huff. “Now, as… entertaining as this little performance of yours has been today, I imagine it has long outlived whatever meager purpose you intended, were there any to speak of at all.” “Why you—“ “Enough, Scootaloo,” I interrupted sternly, holding a hoof up. “I had absolutely no interest in a confrontation today, and I have much less in prolonging this one.” I began to trot past them, ignoring their eyes as they tracked my advance. But as I passed within a pony’s length of Button Mash… “S-so then why the other days?” he finally spoke, an uncharacteristically somber drone clashing with his typically volatile demeanor. Curious. The boy had said barely a thing throughout the entire dispute. I pivoted to face him, and he took a frightened step back, flinching noticeably. An image came unbidden to my mind; an armored Gunslinger, tall and proud, cloak billowing in the wind. It was hard to reconcile that image with the frightened little colt standing before me. Within moments, Apple Bloom had moved in front of Button Mash protectively. Her stance remained neutral, but she glared at me fiercely nonetheless. Adjusting my glasses with a hoof, I ignored her and directed my gaze to Button Mash once more. “I’m simply not in the mood today,” I replied simply. “That isn’t fair,” asserted Button, recovering quickly from his retreat and stepping past Apple Bloom. I raised an eyebrow, surprised at his sudden bravery. “How is it not fair? You desire peace, so I am giving it to you. You should be grateful.” You unappreciative little whelp. “You want us to leave you alone when you’re not in the mood,” he countered, “but what about when we’re not in the mood?” “Yeah, Button’s right!” quipped Apple Bloom. “Y’all expect us to lay off, but you ain’t never done the same for us! Why should we even listen to ya?” Scootaloo snarled at me. “You obviously think we’re stupid—“ “I do.” “—but you’re wrong, and we sure as hell know that you just don’t have the teats to go hoof-to-hoof with us alone.” “Hah! Don’t be ridiculous,” I said dismissively. “It’s simply no fun unless all of us are present to—” “It ain’t fun at all!” snapped Apple Bloom bitterly. “Yeah, that excuse is pretty trash,” spat Scootaloo. “Face it, Silver. You’re just a coward without your snobby little friend to hide behind, and she only ever tries anything when she knows she has the advantage—” “And you think you’re so much better, do you!” I snapped angrily, whirling on Scootaloo and pressing my face right up to hers. “Oh yes, so very brave and honorable, waiting until I’m alone before converging on me all at once like opportunistic thugs!” Scootaloo’s eyes widened and she stepped back. Pathetic. “Don’t make me laugh,” I said coldly. “At the end of the day, you three are no better than her.” “Her?! Yer not much better than her either!” shouted Apple Bloom. Did she just—?! She compared me to Diamond! How dare she— NO. I bit my tongue before it could betray me. In the momentary delay that followed, I realized that the entire patio had fallen silent. Looking past the Crusaders, I realized that we had been surrounded by a small crowd, just like yesterday. And in the distance, a magenta blur stampeded onto the patio. “What in Sun’s name is going on now?!” yelled Miss Cheerilee in a furious rage. “Wasn’t yesterday enough?!” And opportunity strikes. “It was!” I shouted back at her, and she froze, clearly not having expected me to agree. “Yesterday was beyond enough! I’m not even going to try figuring out why these three saw fit to start another quarrel with me, while I’m alone, but I will have none of it! I refuse to be ganged up on! Now kindly shove off so I might at least suffer what’s left of this miserable day in peace!” And with that, I stormed past the Crusaders, past the crowd, past a stunned Miss Cheerilee, and back into the classroom, slamming the door shut behind me.     S W E E T I E   B E L L E   “...and the dress rehearsal should be taking place on Friday evening, while the interview itself should be sometime during Saturday afternoon,” explained Rarity as she carefully disassembled one of her ensembles from a ponnequin. “So I likely won’t be home until the end of Sunday, at best.” “Sweet, so I’ll have the Boutique all to myself?” I asked with a wicked grin, rolling up a few bolts of fabric and stowing them away in an open suitcase. She raised an eyebrow at me. “Sweetie, if I so much as find a hair out of place—” “Oh it’s fine,” I waved dismissively. “I mean, what’s the worst that could happen? I invite a few friends over, throw a party, knock back a couple drinks, maybe even set off some fireworks—” “Sweetie Belle,” Rarity intoned warningly. “—and take bets on how quickly the place burns down!” I finished cheerfully. She gave me a flat look, and I responded with a casual shrug. “What? The insurance check might be pretty killer.” Rarity cracked a small, crooked smile at that. “Need I remind you that I took that plan when I found the stove alight at three past midnight.” “Aw, c’mon, that was one time,” I groaned. “And let’s not forget the softball that went flying through my bedroom window two months ago.” “Scootaloo’s fault!” “The overflowing bathtub?” “Uhhh…” “The unlocked back door?” “Ehehehe…” “The open skylight on a rainy day?” “Hey, in my defense, I had no idea we had a scheduled downpour!” “That’s because somepony neglected to check the forecast bulletin that morning,” she rebuked. …Welp. “…It seems you have me at a disadvantage, Lady Rarity,” I admitted, raising my hooves up in resignation. “But of course,” she replied smoothly, trotting over to her desk to begin sorting through a small stack of papers. “After all, I am your elder sister, dearest Sweetie Belle. I know you far more than you’re willing to admit.” “Know this, Heartless Dictator!” I challenged, rising to my hooves and holding an accusatory hoof out. “I can only grow in strength, and in time your tyranny shall come to an end!” “We’ll see about that,” she sing-songed in reply. “No, but seriously, I’ll be extra careful, I promise,” I said, shutting the case and moving to the next empty one, carefully piling in various accessories. “Oh, fret not,” assured Rarity with a gentle smile. “I have complete faith in you.” A pause. “…Mostly.” Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence, sis. I glanced into the suitcase I was packing—there was a pair of designer glasses frames, which I levitated to my face. “Rarity. Look at me.” “Hmm?” As she turned, I lowered the spectacles with a hoof to peer over the frame with the most colossally unamused look I could muster. My melodrama was rewarded with an remarkably unladylike snort, and I briefly entertained keeping score of the uncharacteristic responses I drew from my sister. “Seriously though, you have nothing to worry about,” I assured her, replacing the glasses in their case. “I’ll probably just invite Button over and we’ll probably hole up in my room and play video games all day.” An abrupt ruffling of parchment caused me to look up from my case towards Rarity, who had paled visibly, a stack of scrolls fluttering to the floor around her desk. “…Something up?” “That…” She blinked, then shook her head with a strained look. “Forgive me. For a moment, I thought that sentence was going somewhere completely different…” “…Huh?” “Ahem! Nothing!” She laughed nervously, then gave me a somewhat anxious smile. “I would hope the… other Crusaders are invited as well?” “…Maybe?” I shrugged. “I mean, the other two aren’t too big on games, so…” “Still, their presence would be…” Rarity coughed. “Hmm?” “You know... have a few extra girls around, just in case…” …Oh, that’s what she was getting at. Oh hey look, a mental image of Button standing on my doorstep, hair slicked back immaculately, the stem of a vivid red rose caught between his teeth and a ‘come-hither’ look expressed through half-lidded eyes. I totally needed that visual. No, really, I did. The image was so utterly ridiculous that I burst into laughter on the spot. “Bahahahahaha!” “Umm… Sweetie?” came Rarity’s shocked reply. “Oh Stars,” I giggled, wiping a tear from my eye. “Sis, Button’s harmless. He wouldn’t try to make a move, especially on me.” Rarity didn’t seem to share my mirth. It took a few moments before she hesitantly responded. “He seems rather… sweet on you, pardoning the pun.” “Nah, he doesn’t seem sweet on anypony. I mean, Apple Bloom’s been chasing his tail for the last several months, and it’s almost like he hasn’t even noticed.” Rarity gave a meaningful hum, and stared up towards the ceiling, apparently lost in thought. Rolling my eyes, I snapped the accessory case shut and rolled it over to the door. “All set with this side of the room.” Finally. This seemed to pull her from her thoughts. She turned to me and smiled beatifically. “Thank you ever so much, love.” “Sure thing, sis. What else do you have left to do?” “Oh, just logistics, mostly.” Her smile thinned slightly as she stared down at her papers. “And… an interview to prepare for. And a rehearsal, and a contract drafting, and…” A heavy sigh followed. “Nervous?” I trotted up to her. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t,” she said with a helpless shrug. “Well, what’s there to be nervous about? You got the job, right?” “I’m on the billing, yes, but you could say I’m in a sort of… trial phase? Nothing’s been set in stone yet, and they’re asking for more samples of my work before moving forward.” Her gaze drifted towards the free-standing ponnequins, their prior burdens now packed away into the various cases that were scattered about the floor. “This is such a high-profile contract, and I don’t think I’ve really ever done anything of this caliber before. What if they don’t like my preliminary designs?” Nonsense. I saw those ensembles. You have more talent than you could possibly imagine. You can create. The most I’m destined to do is enjoy the creations of others. “Don’t be crazy, Rarity,” I said, leaning my head into her neck. “I’m sure you’ll knock it out of the park. You were meant to do this. They’ll see that.” “Let’s hope so…” She wrapped an ivory hoof around my head, holding me close. A moment passed, with me simply relaxing in her embrace. Though I wish she’d hurry up with her moment just a little bit. “Oh, but don’t you worry about me too much,” she finally said, letting go. “Why don’t you find something productive to do with the rest of your day?” “Oh c’mon, sis, you know I’ll just be upstairs playing Eternity.” It was a little past noon now, after all—Freya was probably online by now, and Shadow and Button would likely follow shortly. “Somehow I’m not surprised,” she said with a defeated sigh and a knowing smile. “You know me.” I trotted to the door. “Lemme know if you need anything else?” “I’ll be sure to do so.” I closed the door, then immediately galloped for the stairs and bounded up them two steps at a time. It was time to see my friends.     S I L V E R   S P O O N   As I stepped out of the classroom into the mid-afternoon sun, I released a rather hearty yawn. Little harm in the world permitting me a small, unladylike self-indulgence after having suffered a final period whose mood was so uneasy it might as well have been a funeral. Not that I was complaining. Despite causing an atmosphere of extreme unease, my outburst at lunch had achieved its intended effect—all scrutiny for the confrontation had been cleanly misdirected onto the Crusaders, who had apparently come up with not a single rational explanation for their actions. And I was once again let off scot-free. Lowering the hoof from my mouth, I noticed several figures standing just in front of the gate to the school grounds. Typically, this was where most parents would await their children, eyes skimming the crowd of approaching school kids—but this day, the adults seemed to be dispersed rather abnormally. Their backs were turned to the front of the school, and they appeared to be congregating around something in their midst, arguing in heated voices. “…and I honestly feel much safer—“ “—but she has been nothing but a delight—“ “—a ticking time bomb, waiting to go off—“ “—related to an Element bearer, for Sun’s sake—“ “—now, now, please, calm down!” rose a voice, quelling the small crowd. “I can only take statements from a few ponies at a time! If you’d like to offer your thoughts, queue up in an orderly fashion!” As the crowd began diffusing into a semblance of order, the cobalt blue of Noteworthy’s coat came into view. He stood slightly to the side of the gate, wearing his trademark fedora and holding a notepad in his hoof, a pencil bobbing from just out the corner of his mouth. “This can’t be good,” came a voice to my left, and before I could face the speaker, I was shoved lightly aside as several of my schoolmates rushed towards the scene. “Ruffians,” I muttered under my breath. But my curiosity had been piqued, and I trotted up in their wake. “…and your name was?” queried the reporter to the first in the newly-formed queue as I approached within hearing distance. “Heavyweight,” grunted the massive white stallion who had—to nopony’s surprise—found himself at the front of the line, likely not even of his own intention. His scrawny son, Featherweight, stood by his side, eyes flicking every which way that wasn’t towards his father or the reporter. For a moment, our gazes met—his eyes widened in shock and he quickly looked away. “And Mister Heavyweight, how would you sum up your thoughts on the situation?” “Concerned,” he replied straightforwardly. “I’ve known the filly for long enough to know she’s a good girl at heart, but I can’t help but worry as of late. She seems to have developed a strange fascination with warfare, and by the sound of it, her temper’s gotten shorter.” “Daaad,” bemoaned Featherweight. He was ignored. “Warfare, eh? Interesting,” Mister Noteworthy affirmed with a nod. “Do you have any suspicions regarding the root cause of this interest, or any other aggressive tendencies she may have exhibited?” “I can’t say for certain,” replied Mister Heavyweight. “I mean, for one, this ol’ tiff with the gryphons has everypony on edge. But I can’t imagine her personal taste in hobbies is helping much.” “Personal hobbies?” “Yeah. She’s very invested in video games—just got a cutie mark for it too.” “Ah, so you’re worried that video games are part of the cause.” “Well, they might be.” “What do you mean, might be?” came a pony from the crowd. “It’s obviously the cause.” Mister Heavyweight turned to face the new pony, a beige-ish stallion. “Oh?” “Of course!” affirmed the newcomer. “Why, surely you saw the article from the other day, no? The filly’s been playing some kind of shooting game! Surely any game where you get points by killing ponies is bound to mess with the impressionable psyche of a young filly like that!” There were a few calls of affirmation from the crowd. “I don’t think it’d be wise to jump to conclusions—“ started Mister Heavyweight. “There are no other conclusions to jump to!” the other stallion retorted. “For her to not only get a cutie mark, but start a fight within a day or so of it appearing? Clearly there’s some correlation!” “Yeah!” “She’s dangerous!” “It’s just a coincidence!” “Makes too much sense!” “Now that’s just silly,” grunted Mister Heavyweight in reply. “Correlation doesn’t imply—“ “Hey, look!” called a mare, a hoof extending out of the crowd in my direction. “Isn’t that one of the fillies that she got into a fight with?” Suddenly, several eyes turned to me, and I froze, unsure of how to react after having so quickly become the center of attention. “Look, you can even see a bruise on her side!” “Poor girl…” “That’s what she’s done?!” “That could have been my little filly!” For a moment, my eyes met with Mister Noteworthy’s—he seemed unsure of what to make of my presence, but they sparkled with the glimmer of an idea. Waving a hoof, he beckoned me forward. Whatever you’re planning, do leave me out of it, please. I smiled, shook my head, and stepped back. Before he could speak up again, the brown stallion shouted once more. “The danger is obvious!” he declared, regaining the attention of the crowd. “This Sweetie Belle poses a risk to the entirety of the student body!” The gathering riled up once again, and Mister Noteworthy broke his gaze with me, clearing his throat loudly and stepping forward. “Ahem! Please calm down!” He rapped the pencil on his notepad loudly. “Yes, yes, I realize everypony has something to say, so let’s move along, shall we? Thank you for your time, Mister Heavyweight, your input has been greatly appreciated! Next!” As the questioning resumed, I stepped back and made myself inconspicuous, not intent on having the spotlight shoved upon me a second time. Instead, I merely watched in silence as the reporter filtered through the procession. The thoroughness of his questioning was extraordinarily inconsistent—if the pony didn’t have anything negative to say of Sweetie Belle, or if they made no mention of video games, their interview would be very short indeed. Alas, it was getting fairly predictable, and after a few more minutes I decided there was little to gain from staying. Thankfully, the crowd did not take note of my presence as I waded through the throng and out the gate. As I emerged from the schoolyard and gazed upon the vast expanse of Ponyville, I realized that the sky showed no hints of the yellow-orange that typically marked the beginning of sundown. Despite the earlier distraction, the afternoon was still quite young, and I had no plans for it. Typically, by now, Diamond would have already come up with some diversion to commit to, and we would be well on our way towards various frivolities. But without her, I realized I was essentially free to do as I pleased, without the burden of my friend’s whimsy. I… wasn’t quite sure how I felt about that. Despite all the restraints that came with being in Diamond’s company, she at least provided direction. Without her, I… hadn’t the foggiest idea of what to do with my day. I glanced in the direction of Diamond’s home, briefly entertaining the thought of calling her out after all... ...until my gaze fell upon the circular structure of the Carousel Boutique, a purple-white anomaly that interrupted the rolling beige rooftops composing the rest of Ponyville, like a lighthouse in an endless sea of thatch and wood. “Hmm…” There was another pony I could spend time with instead…     S W E E T I E   B E L L E   Silence befell the dilapidated ruins as we frantically slid into cover. “Not long, one minute,” announced Zaid, standing tall underneath a flag in the center of the room. He dug his hooves into the sand and loaded a shell into his rocket launcher, hefting it towards the concrete hallway to the south, one of three entrances that led into the room. “That’s a long-ass time for just the four of us to be holdin’ this spot,” growled Freya, who stood on an elevated balcony to the north, her light machine gun propped up on the railing and strafing the same entrance. “Long enough,” I muttered, shifting nervously as I crouched behind a low wall that stood before the western doorway, light streaming in from the desert beyond. My eyes drifted to the flag post behind me, from which the guild banner of Sanctuary had been freshly raised, its serene sway bequeathing a false sense of tranquility upon those of us gathered around it. “We can hold out for a minute. As long as they don’t retake this point, we’ll win the match.” It had been close. Despite being outnumbered against a larger team—a meager four Crusaders against a full opposing force of six—we had barely scraped our way into the lead, after having fought for control of this sector and wresting it away from our enemy. Now, we merely waited for their retaliatory strike—and there was no doubt it would come in full force. All we needed to do was hold them off and maintain control in order to secure our victory—but that also meant that all they needed to do was wrest it from us to accomplish the same. It was frightening how close this match had been. While we had taken an early lead, the enemy had been cunning, resourceful, and strangely coordinated, finding ways to subvert our usual strategies mere minutes into the match. Like us, they were most certainly a pre-assembled team, rather than the usual random assortment of players that we were typically confronted with during our match-made games. “Perhaps it would have been prudent to wait for the rest of our friends,” muttered Stranger next to me as we waited in nervous anticipation. “Meh.” I shrugged. “Button doesn’t get out of class for another hour, and who knows when Shadow would have shown up. I was bored.” “Note: No listening to Dovetail when bored.” “Shut up, Zaid,” I grumbled. “No, seriously, shut up,” barked Freya, holding a single claw up. “I hear ’em.” My ears perked, and the sound of distant hoofsteps began to echo within the room. Clop-clop-clop. Armored horseshoes upon… concrete. “South!” I whirled towards the entrance in question… through which a sparking ball sailed into the room. “Ack!” Zaid leapt out of the way, the grenade plopping down into the sands where he had been standing moments before. A moment passed before— “AW HEL, IT’S A FLA—“ POP. My eardrums exploded with a shrill ringing noise as a wave of white static washed over my visor, blinding me to my surroundings. “Horseapples!” I cursed, but even I couldn’t hear my own voice over my ringing ears. Not good. They had taken us by surprise. I slammed my back against the low wall, crouching as low as I could in hope that my senses would return before I could be taken out.. As my hearing slowly recovered, the first sound I heard was the roar of a machine gun. “—teach ya to mess with us!” came Freya’s hawkish bellow as she rained Helfire upon the hallway. “You okay Zaid?!” I shouted, the image of the room resolving as my sight returned. Zaid stood just across the way, looking no worse for wear. “Yeah, I’m fine,” he replied with a wave, before his face paled suddenly. “BEHIND YOU!” I whirled around and found a stallion standing over me, electrified blades extended from his hooves and a mad glint in his eye. PSSCCCHEEWWW! A trio of energy bolts tore into him, and he disintegrated into a fine powder. “That’s one,” said Stranger to my left as she stood, leftover vapors sizzling from the tip of her fusion rifle. She turned back to the entrance, “but there appears to be—“ A shot rang out, and within moments, Stranger’s lifeless body slumped over the wall, a fresh hole in her forehead. I whirled towards the doorway and saw three figures charging murderously towards me. “Crap!” I ducked behind the low wall as several shots sailed over my head. “It was a distraction!” I glanced around frantically for ideas, then spotted Zaid, who was hefting his launcher. “Got you!” he shouted, and the weapon lit up, a rocket surging forth from the barrel—I ducked as it cruised over my head, a herald of destruction to the unlucky souls on the other end. BOOM. Bits of dust and debris bounced off my helmet. “Two!” he yelled. “One more outside!” I leapt over the dividing wall and dashed out the doorway—the sun flashed into view of my visor, momentarily blinding me. SMACK. “GAH!” Pain erupted from the right side of my body and I was thrown to my left from the surprise melee blow—staggering into place, I quickly looked up to find a mare charging at me, closing the distance to strike once more. I scrambled to my left and her killing blow went sailing past me, leaving her vulnerable. I quickly lunged forward and struck out with my hind hooves, impacting upon her armor with a loud SMACK and causing her energy shielding to flare out of existence from the overwhelming force. She quickly recovered from the counterattack and spun to face me with a snarl, raising her shotgun—but I had already leveled my Hawkmoon to her head. BAM. She crumpled to the floor. Two left. I quickly glanced around my surroundings, my hand cannon readied—and found myself alone. A yelp from inside the room. Uh-oh. Quickly, I dashed back into the room—just in time to witness Freya’s body toppling to the ground before me. I looked up towards the balcony and saw a stallion leap over, descending upon the room and firing madly towards Zaid, who fired off several shotgun blasts as he backed into a corner, peppered by automatic fire. I blustered forward and fired three shots at the airborne stallion—the first managed to pierce through the already weakened shields, and the second pierced his temple. The force of my hand cannon rounds was enough to throw him back against the wall, now splattered with his blood. I turned around to grin at Zaid… …and suddenly found my vision completely overwhelmed by a descending gryphon, who had flanked us from the concrete hallway we had left unguarded in the chaos. I frantically raised my Hawkmoon and fired two shots—they both glanced right off his armor—before my weapon gave a telltale click. It was empty. The gryphon’s claws lanced forward, and I raised my hooves to no avail as he dug his electrified talons into my throat. Hawkmoon clattered to the floor. My vision began to blur. I opened my mouth to cry out—but all that left my lips was a wet, pathetic gurgle. The gryphon tore his talons out, and my legs give way beneath me, robbed of their strength. As I stared up into the victorious eyes of the gryphon, a thought occurred to me… …he had no idea there was somepony else in the room, did he? As my vision slowly began to fade, a stallion burst forth from the shadows of the corner—the gryphon whirled around, his eyes widened in stark surprise, just in time for Zaid to lash forward with a foreleg. A huge smile overcame the horse’s face as a massive shockwave burst from his hoof, exploding outwards and instantly tearing the gryphon’s body into shreds. The room fell silent. My vision went black. But not before a sonorous, disembodied voice pierced the veil between life and death to make one final proclamation: “A hard-fought victory, Crusaders. Congratulations.”     All at once, my vision returned, and I found myself in the cockpit of an airship, standing at the helm as if I had always been there. Beyond the windows that lined the cockpit, I could see the ruins of the desert arena falling distantly below as we quickly gained altitude. Within seconds, it was a mere speck on the horizon, indistinct from the vast desert landscape, until that too faded from sight, obscured by a thick layer of fog as we ascended into the cloud layer. “HAH!” came a cheer behind me. “Nice save, Zaid!” I turned around to face my team, who had materialized onto the ship behind me. All of them were walking up to Zaid, who stood in the center, sheepishly scratching the back of his neck with a forehoof. “Is nothing,” he replied embarrassedly. “That was rather inspired,” intoned Stranger. “Your quick last-minute feint helped us snatch victory from an impossible situation.” “Yeah, and all you needed to do was use Dovetail as bait!” said Freya with a snicker. “Heh. Sorry, Dove.” He looked to me apologetically. “Gryphon come in. I back away. I wait for him to turn to you.” I felt a massive, stupid grin overcome my face. “That was awesome. Brilliant.” He beamed wider than I. “Hey, Zaid’s actually getting good at this game!” chuckled Freya, jubilantly throwing an arm around his neck. “It was due time that Dovetail’s tactical prowess would rub off on us,” said Stranger, turning to me in admiration. “Naaah, that stuff’s innate,” I replied with a dismissive wave. “After a while, you just start to figure out patterns in enemy behavior and learn to exploit them. It comes naturally if you’re smart enough, and all of you guys are more than smart enough.” “Only a team as talented as yours would call that ‘natural’,” crackled an unfamiliar voice into the cockpit speakers. What the— I spun to face the front viewport of the airship, just as it breached the cloud layer into the world above. The sun was setting magnificently over the far horizon, and its light glinted across the brass-plated hull of another zeppelin, hovering idly just a few leagues away. Oh horseapples. We were still in the matchmaking lobby with the other team. “Though I should have expected no less from members of Sanctuary,” continued the female voice, in a tone that sounded genuinely impressed. “You certainly live up to your reputation.” Huh. “Thank you for the compliment.” I didn’t realize we had become that well-known. “Hey, we’re famous!” chortled Freya. Clearly I wasn’t the only one. “May I come onboard for a moment?” That was… odd. The leader of the losing team wanted to meet us on our ship? “To what end?” I queried. There was a pause. “I have an… offer I would like to propose,” came the cautious reply. I turned to glance at my teammates—Zaid shrugged, while Stranger quirked a curious eyebrow. “Hey, it couldn’t hurt,” said Freya. “Might as well see what they want.” “Sure, I guess,” I replied. “We’ll meet you on deck.” I quickly tapped a few controls on the dashboard, releasing the lock on the transmat and allowing them to teleport aboard our ship. “This is… weird?” said Freya quizzically. “What does team want to give?” said Zaid, asking the question on all of our minds. “I dunno,” I replied as I trotted past my team, who fell into step behind me. “I’m not even sure who they are.” “For ponies we were match-made against, they were very coordinated,” noted Stranger as we began to climb the stairs to the top deck. “Yeah, they really gave us a run for our money,” quipped Freya. “No doubt they’re as serious about the game as we are. Maybe they wanna merge with Sanctuary?” “I guess we’ll find out.” The wind caught our manes as we emerged into the open-air deck underneath the airship’s gondola. At the far end, a pulsing static form began to appear as a pony transmatted onto our ship. By the time we had all climbed out of the stairwell, the static had resolved into the figure of a unicorn mare. From her armor, I recognized her as the one I had fought beyond the doorway. “That was a fantastic match,” came her voice as she trotted forward with a gentle smile and an extended hoof. “It was certainly a pleasure and a privilege to fight against you and yours.” “The privilege is ours,” I replied, shaking her hoof with my own. “You nearly wiped the floor with us there.” She chuckled pleasantly. “I bet if the rest of your team had been here, you would have outmatched us, no contest.” “Heh, well…” I grinned dumbly. “…That’s us! Sanctuary! Uh, I guess?” Damn it. Can somepony else please talk for me? I suck at this stuff. “Pfft!” Freya threw an arm around my neck. “Forgive our illustrious leader, she’s positively dreadful at taking compliments.” “Shut up, Freya.” I felt myself blushing furiously. You are not helping. Stranger stepped forward. “May I ask to whom we owe the pleasure?” Ugh, thank you, for Sun’s sake. “Ah, my apologies. Allow me to introduce myself.” The mare’s horn lit up, and with a blue flash, her armor disappeared. Curly locks of rich red cascaded down her head. The rest of her pale white coat was obscured by the clothing she wore underneath, a smart navy dress uniform. And perched upon her crown was… No. Way. Only one type of player could own a tricorn hat in this game. Its creators. “My name is Prosperity,” the mare spoke softly, with a graceful bow. “I work for Mythic Incorporated, and I’m a developer for Eternity.”