A stallion stepped into the doorframe. Twilight peered at him—middle-aged, sweaty and stubbled, looking somewhat disheveled in a tan shirt and a bandana that poked up around the collar. “Mr. C, I presume,” she said. “I’m Twilight Sparkle, personal student to the princess and—”
“Yes, yes,” he said, and stepped forward a bit—the tired pegasus shrank back—and gave Twilight an unpleasantly lengthy once-over. Twilight pursed her lips. “I myself am actually Doctor C, for Caballeron. I must say I’m surprised we haven’t met before. So good of you to drop in. You will introduce me to your lovely, ah... partner?”
Dash nodded curtly at him. Twilight didn’t react. “So,” she said, “you owe the princess a favor. She’s calling it in.”
Caballeron blinked. “I owe the princess a favor.”
“Yes.”
“Ah,” he said, and didn’t speak for a moment. “You are not looking for me.”
Twilight stared at him, her hoof tracing some shape on the carpet. “Who am I looking for, Doctor Caballeron? Don’t think too long.”
“I do not think that my, ah, employer would—”
Twilight’s gun slid an inch out of her holster. She tilted the edges of her mouth upward—to call it a smile would be pushing it.
Caballeron raised his eyebrows. “Considering the circumstances, I doubt she would mind. Miss Sparkle, I act as a liaison to a... a very old friend of your princess. Dee, do you mind?”
The pegasus inclined her head slightly, and with a glimmer of green light, was replaced by a—well, what was it? Twilight looked more closely. It was a jet black creature of roughly the same build as the pegasus, with thin translucent wings and a mouth filled with sharp teeth.
“Is this your employer?” Dash asked.
“Only a minor example of her kind,” Caballeron said. “Dee keeps me... entertained in exchange for various services I render to our mutual employer, and now she will put us in touch with her. So to speak. Dee?”
The creature closed its empty teal eyes, and began to shudder terribly. Dash looked up towards the ceiling. Twilight watched it intently. The shuddering ceased, and the creature’s eyes opened. “Ah. So this is the personal student,” it said.
“I assume I’m talking to C now,” Twilight said.
The creature stalked around the hallway, circling around Twilight. “I think we can dispense with this cloak-and-dagger nonsense and call me by my real name.”
“Which would be helpful if I knew it.”
“Hmph. Chrysalis, queen of the changelings.” She paused. “Or what are left of the changelings, anyways.”
“There are others like you?” Twilight asked. “I thought most non-pony species had been extirpated in the First War of—”
Chrysalis pulled a face, or at least attempted it. “Hmm. Not this one, my dear.”
Twilight’s mind lit up with questions for a moment, and then she shut them down. “The princess is... calling in her favors. All of them. You’re to present yourself and your...”
“Followers,” Dash supplied.
“Followers to her at once.”
Chrysalis hissed. “Favors! For allowing a tiny remnant of my subjects to survive in this benighted wasteland... every moment, we grow weaker. And now she expects me to save her? Tell your princess she’s too late. She will get nothing from me.”
“Fair enough,” Twilight said. She closed her eyes, took a deliberate breath, and then shot Caballeron in the head.
“Ah ah ah,” Chrysalis chided. “The doctor was a useful intermediary, but with a considerable emphasis on the was. You’ll have to do better than that, and it’s simply—”
Twilight shot her too. She sighed, and turned around. “Let’s go.”
Dash glanced at her. “Ma’am?”
Twilight grinned. “We’ve got a busy night ahead of us, Dash!”
Celestia still attracted more than her share of stares, even after weeks spent inside the winding corridors of the solar headquarters. Most of it seemed to be underground, with low ceilings made even lower by messes of pipes. There were only a few windows to the outside, and most of them looked out onto some filthy alleyway. She was almost glad of the dark.
But of course it was no longer dark outside, but rather the sort of dim expectant grayness of an early morning, or of a day obscured by storm. If the former, day must have broken on the eastern coast many hours ago. It was not her doing; Shining Armor insisted that it was not his either. She had doubted him, but kept her counsel.
So now she wandered, with some hope of finding Cadence. The other alicorn, she had been given to understand, had been co-opted by Luna as soon as she was discovered. It was obvious why she had been chosen to speak for Luna. Even before Luna had been tempted by the Nightmare, the sort of easy good humor that came naturally to Cadence had rarely visited her.
A sudden yelp brought Celestia out of her reverie, and she looked down at its source. “Are you alright?” she asked.
A lanky stallion pulled himself off the floor, and tried to compose himself. “Oh, hello, Princess. I wasn’t... sorry, I’m fine.”
“No apology is needed, Mister...”
“Blue, uh... Blue Bonnet, ma’am. Very pleased to meet you,” he said, extending a hoof.
“And I you,” Celestia responded.
“I heard I have you to thank for me being here,” Blue said. “This is all pretty hard to believe. I always thought you were a silly legend. Not that you’re silly! No, I mean, I just...”
“Your lack of faith is surprising,” Celestia said. “And, I hasten to add, somewhat welcome.”
“Ah, well. Guess I was wrong. Not that Moonie and her gang care. I got pulled off the street in Canterlot just a few months ago and sent off to one of the Everfree camps. Just the wrong place at the wrong time. Just my luck, I thought.” He looked a bit meditative. “Turns out that wasn’t such bad luck after all. I guess I got out of there just in time.”
Celestia raised her eyebrows.
“Oh, well, I mean, it’s gone now, the old place is, basically, from what I hear. Moonie tore it apart.” He gave a low whistle. “Hate to think how many ponies must have... well, you know.”
“To what end has she done this?” Celestia breathed.
Blue stared at her. “I thought you knew. They were looking for you.”
There was smoke in the air, staining the sky a deeper shade of grey. It was rumored that Canterlot was still smoldering, although thunderclouds blocked the city from view. The storm drains exhaled a rancid, cloying stench—the result of the mysterious shower of chocolate milk that still made every inch of the pavement stick to Twilight’s hooves as she walked back to the carriage. The stallions pulling it—vetted ex-cons from the camps, only murderers and thieves, not political dissidents or worse, sols—glanced at her nervously. Twilight didn’t pay it any mind.
She was in a good mood, really—rested for the first time in what felt like forever. The encounter with Chrysalis had maybe gone sideways, a bit, but the changeling would probably be feeling more cooperative the next time Twilight ran into her.
Twilight smirked. There’s going to be a lot of that if I have anything to say about it.
Dash was hanging back towards the building. Probably keeping an eye out for threats, Twilight thought absently, and glanced back at Dash as she slid into the seat with a groan.
"Shut the door.”
Twilight complied, almost without thinking. It seemed like a reasonable enough request. She looked over at its source, and her eyes widened. “Da—”
The carriage lurched into motion as the stallions began to gallop.
“Oh, hello. Be quiet, don’t use any magic, and stay where you are,” Fluttershy said, and smiled wanly. “I’ve been looking forward to talking to you.”
Twilight glared at her.
“Oh, I’m sorry. You can reply to that, of course. Dashie has already figured out what’s going on.”
Dashie?
“I knew I should have killed you the first time I saw you,” Twilight hissed.
Fluttershy considered that for a moment. “Okay. Spike sends his regards.”
“Don’t tell me you’re working for the whore.”
Fluttershy shrugged, and turned towards Twilight. “She wants the same thing as I do. Well, I care a little bit more about the details. It’s your fault, you know. What you are. Everything you’ve done. All of it. Not your parents. It’s your fault. You made yourself into a monster. It wasn’t the camps, it wasn’t the academy. It wasn’t even the princess you’re trying so hard to become.”
Twilight’s face worked, but she didn’t say anything.
“Everyone knows what you are. They’re afraid to say it. You’re afraid to think it, Twilight. I’m not.” She leaned in, and dabbed at Twilight’s face. She held up a hoof to show a few thin streaks of red. “Killing more ponies, Twilight Sparkle? Or did you make Dash do that for you too?”
“Ponies tell me to go with my strengths.”
Fluttershy sat back down. “I wonder if you see them. Every last innocent pony you’ve killed. Your parents. Your rivals in Canterlot. All the ponies in this city. You know they were innocent. Deep down I think you do. Blood calls out for blood. And when you yourself walk into the shadowlands they’ll be waiting for you.”
“Spooky,” Twilight deadpanned.
Fluttershy reached out and tilted Twilight’s head towards her. “You’re a monster by choice, Twilight. You deserve to die.”
“I... You’re not...”
Something slammed into the side of the carriage.
“Sparkle!” Dash’s face appeared, pressed up against the window. “Sparkle!”
Fluttershy went for her gun. “Stay out of this, Dash!”
Dash disappeared.
Twilight shivered violently, and inched away from the pegasus still looking intently out the window. Fluttershy turned back towards her. “I said don’t move.”
Twilight went dead still. “She’ll...”
Fluttershy looked bored. “Dash isn’t going to do anything. That wouldn’t have worked if she actually cared about you, you know. Of course she doesn’t. No one does.”
Twilight blinked back tears.
“Oh no,” Fluttershy said. “So you do have a soul.” She scooted herself closer. “Listen, Sparkle, it’s only this one little thing you have to do, and then everything will be just fine.”
She held out the gun.