Human Blood

by sunnypack

8 - The Department of Universal Affairs

Secretly, David had always wanted to meet someone famous. Someone who could inspire regard, awe, or passion. He wondered what it took to be a person that commanded. To have an iron-will, or a captivating charm, or an inspiring record of achievements. It all seemed so different to his bumbling existence in his own little world within Terminal 691. He finally got his wish, and met someone famous, royalty, even. But it turned out to be a shapeshifting equine-insectoid that had kidnapped him.

However Exuviae had not been the first royalty he had met. Unbeknownst to him at the time, Twilight had been a princess. She had been part of the party that had saved his life. Though if David were to pick between the two, he would say that Exuviae had more of a commanding appearance. One that was used to the role she had been born into. Twilight… Twilight didn’t fit that description. It was subtle, as much as the synthetic aftertaste of sweetener was to sugar, but David knew that Twilight was new to her job. She had the same sort of enthusiastic-but-cautionary aura similar to an intern working in the first few months.

It was this, as much as the fact that she was a familiar face, that initially put David at ease. That was why he had initially decided to follow Twilight. Through a couple of twists and turns, and looking at the surroundings, he had surmised that they had entered a private study of sorts. Inside was a heavy desk, burdened with a few parchment scrolls, and backed with fibrous-like materials. A quill and ink pot sat to the side, looking as if they had been recently used, judging from the fact that the cover for the pot lay to the side.

Though there was an imposing high-backed chair, it sat off in the corner, and substituted with a more modest counterpart to which Twilight had taken as her choice of seating. She sat behind what looked like a small, but practical, desk. Feeling a little like he were called to the Boss’ office, David took the seat opposite of her, and tried not to squirm.

“Okay, we can speak privately now,” Twilight said.

It suddenly occurred to him that speaking together like this was something strange. He had gotten the impression that changeling magic communicated speech through emotion, so the sounds did not match up with their words. Carefully observing Twilight now, her words had matched her mouth. Maybe it was something special between them?

Wait. This had happened before, with the children. How did he understand them when Hyaline had not been there to translate? Why then, was he unable to comprehend what the other ponies were saying?

“David?” Twilight was looking at him with slightly furrowed brows. He realised that he had probably stayed silent a little longer than etiquette considered polite.

“Uhh, yeah, sorry, blanked out there.” He cleared his throat. “So, what did you want to talk about?”

Twilight put her hooves together in a way that reminded David of a human tenting their fingers. The corners of her mouth drew down as she appeared to order her thoughts.

“Do you know that your very being is synergistic with magic?”

David shrugged as he ran a few fingers through his hair. He didn’t know what she meant.

Twilight took a deep breath, ploughing on. “Do you remember the hospital?”

David could feel a nervous tingle in his extremities. Of course he remembered, he didn’t like them at all.

Seeing his expression, Twilight relaxed her tone. “The medical staff had extracted your blood and hair without your permission there.”

David blinked. Though most of the visit was hazy, he did remember a pony jabbing him in the neck, and instinctively a hand shot up to touch the spot. He hated needles, he never understood how people count just stand there and take a jab to the neck, the very idea sent a prickle of goosebumps along his upper arms.

“I’m sure… there was a good explanation…” He trailed off when he saw Twilight’s cheeks flush red with seething fury. He almost took a step back.

“There wasn’t!” Twilight shouted, causing him to actually take the step back. She took in his guarded stance a little guiltily. Taking a calming breath, she closed her eyes briefly, then made an effort to continue in a more moderate tone. It was not quite enough to take out all the anger and disgust in her speech.

“What they found out was disturbing. The hair and blood they ‘harvested’ would allow magic to be used more efficiently. To them, it was like they were able to finely control spells that would normally be difficult to do so.” She fixed him with a serious look. “When doing these experiments, they found that the blood and hair that interacted with the magic, and would be consumed.”

It took David a while to comprehend the implication, but when he did, he couldn’t help but shift back in his seat, as if he was suddenly in the presence of a lion.

“Don’t worry!” Twilight said, trying quickly to assuage his rising anxiety. “We’re not going to do anything to you! Not if I can help it. But it would be very dangerous if word got out that humans could do such things.” She cleared her throat. “They might be out for your hair, or worse, your blood.”

David sagged in his seat. This was getting a little too heavy. The thought of the creatures around him suddenly bloodthirsty—A chilling thought occurred to him.

“Is that why we’re talking here?” David asked suddenly. “So that Hyaline wouldn’t know?”

Twilight nodded gravely. “Even if she knows, there’s no guarantee she’ll have your best interests at heart. There’s the possibility she doesn’t. In which case… it might be safer not letting her know.”

David stared at his hands as he thought about it. From a purely rational point of view, Hyaline and Exuviae would want to know about his abilities. For them, it might even help their crisis of power, extending their reach by amplifying their magical abilities. But it was too vague, and he himself was a finite resource. A hardly quantifiable resource.

From what Twilight suggested, what they’ve found out was that his hair and blood was ‘synergistic’ with magic. What did that mean? Better control? Better power? He felt he knew as much about magic as he did with airplanes. Like a passenger on one, he knew that it ran on fuel, was piloted by a specialist, and it somehow could fly. That was the extent of his knowledge. If someone came up to him and asked him, ‘what would make an airplane fly better?’, he wouldn’t know. More fuel? A better pilot?

“I-I don’t know,” he answered honestly. It was the best he could do. “I’ll have to think about it.”

Twilight considered him for a moment, but after a moment’s silence, nodded. She looked reluctant to let it drop, but did so anyway. “The next item on the agenda: we need to get you home.”

For a moment, David couldn’t react. Home? So soon?

Twilight chuckled. “No need to look like that, I can see it written all over you from the beginning. You look like you don’t belong here.”

“Yes.” He felt the tension bleed out from his shoulders with a hapless shrug. “I want to go home.”

Twilight grinned. “In that case, we can help. Short of another country—what? What’s so funny?”

David waved a hand as a helpless laugh overcame him. “Sorry,” he spluttered in between snorts and stifled giggles. “It’s just that.” He wiped a hand across his face, regaining his composure. “I’m not really sure you can help me with that.”

Twilight cocked her head.

“Why’s that?”

David shrugged. “Because I think I’m from another world.”

——————

With that short sentence, Twilight’s thinking short-circuited. “Well…” She struggled to fit things together. On the surface it seemed unlikely, but factoring in the rarity of a human and the way they suddenly appeared all over Equestria…

“You can try,” David added quickly, “I mean, I’m really grateful you would offer. Any help would be great.”

“A different world…” Twilight was still trying to wrap her head around the concept. “Do you mean—” she pointed to the ceiling “—up there?”

David rubbed the back of his neck. “No, probably not, it’s more like this…”

He recounted the events leading until this moment.

“So you just ended up here out of nowhere?” Twilight blinked. “That’s… I don’t… why?”

“I keep telling myself that all the time,” David replied sombrely. He shook his head as if to free his thoughts from the clingy cobwebs of self-pity. “So, we’ve started on good terms with the changelings, we’re making progress. Now we just need to find a way home.”

Twilight rubbed a hoof under her chin, her brows drawing together as she pondered her next move. From what David had told her, the most interesting aspect was the crystal structures within the ruins of the temple. Judging from the small glimpses of the architecture, Twilight had surmised that the designs were too alien to be pony built. Rather, the aesthetics didn’t match anything she learned from the historical texts and museum pieces she’d encountered.

“We need to take a look at that crystal cavern,” Twilight announced with a smile. “There’s something strange about it. I want to investigate.”

“Great,” David said, “you can meet Exuvaie again.”

Twilight could feel her smile die down a couple of notches.

———————

Back in the ‘meeting room’, Twilight and David were greeted by a strange sight.

“Raise.”

“Aww!” Rainbow shoved a few bits into the centre of the table. Hyaline revealed the cards she had been holding, eliciting groans from the whole table.

“You’re cheating,” Rainbow groused.

“Am not!” Hyaline shot back, grasping the bits. “You’re just too easy to read.”

Rainbow crossed her arms and glared at the changeling. “You aren’t using any magic, are you?”

Hyaline shrugged. “It wasn’t banned in the first round, but like I said—” she smiled condescendingly “—you’re just too easy to read.”

Rainbow threw up her hooves and turned to Pinkie. “How come she couldn’t get you in the first round?”

Hyaline’s mouth twitched, annoyance flittering over her proud features. “She’s always happy.” Her eyebrows furrowed at the grinning pony. “Even when she wins or loses.” Hyaline threw up her hooves in frustration. “I can’t read any change in her emotions.”

“What’s all this?” Twilight finally asked, causing the occupants to look up in surprise. It seemed like they were so engaged in the game, they failed to realise that the pair had returned.

“We were playing a little poker. It was fun! How’d you go?” Pinkie threw up her earnings haphazardly, but for some reason they fell back into a perfect pile. Twilight could feel David’s disbelief, but didn’t want to feel too smug, because of the fact that she didn’t do too well the first time she tried to make sense of the pink party pony phenomenon.

“Uhm, well, good. I’ve spoken to David about a few matters and I want to help him get home.”

Hyaline, who up until now was smiling, shot to her feet with a scowl. “Hang on, that’s our agreement with David!”

Twilight cocked her head. “Is that now?”

Cheeks blooming with the regret of leaking that information, Hyaline fumed in silence.

Twilight dismissed her concerns. “This is has nothing to do with our agreement.” She gave Hyaline a reassuring smile. “We’re just helping him get home.”

“And what do you get out of it?” Hyaline asked.

Twilight looked taken aback by the question. “I just thought… I would help.”

Suspicion flickered among the myriad of emotions that danced among Hyaline’s face.

“Why?”

It was a simple question, to which Twilight only had a simple answer to.

“Erm… isn’t it the right thing to do?”

“But…” Hyaline gestured helplessly. “What benefit do you get for helping?”

Twilight tried not to let the shock show on her face. “It’s just the right thing to do. It wouldn’t feel right to just let it go…” Twilight tried to think of a better way to explain it, but came up short. When she saw Hyaline become increasingly wary, she felt indescribable pity for the changeling.

“Feelings?” Hyaline snorted. “How can you act based on that?”

Maybe it was the fact that changelings took advantage of pony emotions that Hyaline had such disdain for the concept of emotional motivation. For a moment, Twilight felt a pang of sympathy for the creature that so readily dismissed altruism as foolery.

“Well, it’s not that.” Twilight tried to frame it in a logical sense. Then a thought occurred to her, making her ears perk up in excitement. “How about the concept of reciprocity?”

“Reciprocity?”

“When somepony does something good to you, the natural inclination would be to do something good back, right?”

“Or you could take advantage of their relaxed guard.”

Twilight shrugged. “Then the next time that pony sees you, they won’t be inclined to help you. What if you needed help only that pony could give?”

“Unlikely.”

“But possible.”

“Then I would just disguise myself as a different pony.”

As she locked gazes with Hyaline, Twilight could see she was unmoved. Seeing that, the conversation was only going to get more difficult, and she decided to switch the topic before it could get heated. Twilight hadn’t planned on being inflammatory around the changeling, but their ideals were too divergent to easily reconcile.

“Putting that aside, our new agreement is to help foster relations with each other, right?”

Hyaline nodded reluctantly.

“So in this exchange, we’d like to take a look around your home, while you can take a look around ours.”

“Not that you haven’t been helping yourself already,” Rainbow added under her breath, just loud enough for most to hear.

Hyaline frowned at Rainbow’s comment, but didn’t say anything in reply, just shrugged like it was an obvious fact. Instead, she addressed Twilight’s proposal with a shake of her head. “I’m not sure about that. My mother might not appreciate it.” Hyaline swung around and prodded David towards the exit. “We’ll have to discuss it with her.”

“Hang on, before she gets her approval, why don’t we have David stay over for a while?”

Hyaline gave Twilight a somewhat frosty smile. “No thank you, it’d probably be best if David left with us.”

Rainbow darted forward. “The human should stay with us!”

Pinkie glanced at Rainbow, then came forward with a bounce. “He’s new.” She gasped. “We should throw him a party!”

“I’m afraid we can’t let you do that.” Hyaline glanced at the rest of her contingent. The guards were instantly by her side. Hostility welled up in the tense silence that followed.

“Food!”

Everyone looked at David.

“Food,” he repeated. “I’d like to eat something. I’m starved.” He turned to Hyaline. “Got any food back there?”

Hyaline hesitated. “Uhhh… what do you humans eat?”

David blinked. “A lot of things. Try me.”

Hyaline smiled uncertainly. “Nutrient-enriched slime—”

“Woah, stop there, that doesn’t sound edible to me.”

He turned to Twilight. “How about you?”

“Hay burgers?” she asked hopefully.

“Hay? As in, like, grass?”

Twilight nodded.

“Eww, I can’t eat that.”

Hyaline darted forward. “We can give you some emotions? Do you feed on that?”

David shook his head, then turned to Twilight, looking like he was unused to anypony asking him what diet he ate. Perhaps on his world, whatever he ate was common enough so that it wouldn’t have to be explained. “You got any fruit? Or vegetables?” Twilight nodded at each of those items with a relieved expression. She didn’t know what she would have done if neither of them could feed David. She shivered slightly as she considered what could have happened if David had instead starved… She shook her head, not out of the woods yet. If what he said before about being on a different world was true… would he be able to eat anything? Would what he asked for even translate properly? Twilight caught herself analysing the situation so deeply that she missed him saying something.

“I’m sorry, what?”

He cocked his head as if an idea occurred to him. “I said, I don’t have anything to pay you with…”

“Oh, you don’t have to trouble yourself, you’re a guest!” Twilight exclaimed. “That reminds me. Most of your belongings are back at the hospital!”

“I wouldn’t feel comfortable without paying…” Though David nodded reluctantly. “I’ll fetch my stuff from the hospital and see what I can pay you back with—” He slapped his head. “Hospital fees, emergency rescue…”

“There’s no need,” Twilight said hastily. “Spitfire and Soarin told me it wasn’t your fault, you didn’t try to hurt them or anything.”

“Okay,” David said, the reluctance still around. “I guess it’s settled for now—”

“Wait!” Hyaline looked desperate. “While we don’t have much food on hoof, we can get some in no time—”

David frowned. “What’s the matter? I’m sure I can do something to scrounge up some food. I might not be able to pay for it, but I can work…”

Twilight shook her head. “While I appreciate the gesture, we should, at the very least, help you out with some food and return you your belongings. You know, after what happened in the hospital. We were responsible.”

David looked uncomfortable with the idea. “Well, you have saved my life, and it wasn’t your fault at all.” A sudden thought occurred to him. “What if I gave you a bit of my hair?”

Twilight’s eyes widened. With that hair, they could conduct some research—she shook her head hastily. The first priority was to discern why humans had appeared, and to return them to their… world. Research could come later. She felt an ironic smile grace her lips. Who would have thought she would ever think that?

“Thank you, David. You don’t have to do that. We wouldn’t want to force you to give up your hair.” She sighed. “It would really help us if you could stick around until we find out what’s going on. You seem to be connected to a series of events with other humans—”

“Other humans?!” David spluttered. “There are others around here?”

Twilight nodded warily. “There are—” she glanced at Hyaline “—but we should probably discuss it later. For now, Hyaline can relay what we’ve worked out with her mother, and we can go to the hospital to retrieve your belongings.”

“But…” Hyaline looked torn.

David laid a hand on her head. “Don’t worry, I’m not about to abandon you. I doubt the ponies are going to try anything while you’re gone.”

Hyaline sighed. “All the same…” She glanced sideways at Twilight. “You won’t object to having a couple of changelings stay behind with David?”

Twilight was surprised, and more than a little annoyed. “Alright,” she said reluctantly, “but while they’re around, they should be respectful and follow reasonable requests.”

Hyaline nodded, turning to speak with her changelings.

David glanced between Twilight and Hyaline and noisily let go of a breath he’d apparently been holding. “We’re going?”

Twilight acquiesced with a nod.

“Good,” he said. “I’m sick of wearing a hospital gown.”

—————————

David stayed outside the hospital while Twilight and Rainbow retrieved his stuff. Outside, he stood awkwardly, uncomfortable under the curious gazes of the ponies around him. Pinkie said something, but all he could do was smile and nod nervously. He no longer had the ability to communicate to her.

Even without the ability to understand her, he knew the pony was making an enormous effort to make him feel comfortable. She was babbling in her language about this and that, and kept tugging him on the arm, or gown to look at a cart, or meet a bemused pony crossing their path.

For the most part, ponies remained curious, yet removed. It seemed that knowledge about humans was indeed esoteric enough to warrant a lack of suspicion. In sum, he was a newcomer amongst the town’s populace. A foreigner that looked strange and out of place, but didn’t seem to be a threat. Some, apart from the curious stares, apparently recognised him from the first time he’d come and they would approach Pinkie and address her in a way that sounded mostly like a question. Pinkie would answer excitedly and the querying pony would leave, looking satisfied with the explanation.

From this, David deduced that the town’s ponies trusted Pinkie, and judging by their smiles and the way she handled them, liked the pony. He could understand, her demeanour although excessive, was also a constant bright light of bubbly happiness.

“Hey! Isn’t that the human?”

David knew the voices. They sounded young, even to his ears. A feeling of dread worked down his spine. Turning around, he spotted three curious faces.

“Uhm, hi?”

“Hello!”

Pinkie looked excited, she pointed to him, then said something.

“Yeah,” said one of the foals. “We can understand him.”

Pinkie frowned momentarily, then asked the foal something.

“Uhm, Pinkie asks if you have any food allergies?”

Confused, but seeing no reason not to answer, he told her he didn’t.

Pinkie asked him something else.

“She asked why you could speak with us, and not with her?”

That’s her second question?!

He shrugged. It was just as confusing to him as it was to her.

“I don’t know.”

————————

Inside the hospital, Twilight was not feeling in the mood to talk to Nurse Redheart or Doctor Stable. She really hoped there was some other staff at the reception, but unfortunately, being a small hospital, Nurse Redheart was predictably at the desk. She briefly considered going back outside and asking Pinkie to do it, but since she was here already with Rainbow Dash, it would have been a little awkward, considering.

Rainbow spotted Nurse Redheart and furrowed her brows. Twilight sympathised with her, but in a discreet voice, warned her to be prudent.

“We don’t want to antagonise her, this isn’t the time.” Twilight murmured.

As they approached the reception, Nurse Redheart finally noticed the pair and stood more to attention. From the way she was acting, it was clear she didn’t expect them to come back to the hospital.

“H-Hello, Princess Twilight, Rainbow Dash, how can I help you?” There was an almost painful tone of politeness underscoring her greeting.

“We’re here to pick up the human’s belongings,” Rainbow Dash said, her eyes speaking a challenge, if Nurse Redheart failed to pick up on the irate undercurrent in her speech.

Nurse Redheart seemed surprised, as if it were the last thing she was expecting them to ask. “If you would please wait here.” She paused, as if considering something. “Look, I know we’ve gotten off on the wrong hoof last time but I want to say I’m so—”

“I don’t care,” Rainbow shot back. “Just—”

“Hold on,” Twilight held out a hoof to stop the pegasus from advancing. “While I won’t say, ‘It’s fine.’, we can put aside our differences for now.”

Nurse Redheart paused, looking a little nervous. “How about I take you to our storage, and I can tell you my side of things?”

Twilight saw the hopeful expression on her face and sighed. “Alright,” she said, gesturing for the nurse to lead the way. “Although honestly, I don’t understand how you would not think it was wrong. Especially after the fact.”

Nurse Redheart didn’t immediately answer her charge. “Is your horn still okay? You didn’t come in for a follow-up so I assumed everything was fine.”

“Yes.” A pause. “Thank you.”

Nurse Redheart frowned. “No dizzy spells, headaches or anything?”

Twilight thought back. “Actually…” She debated whether she should tell her. Finally, seeing no reason to lie, Twilight shrugged. “I’ve been a bit nauseous, actually.”

Nurse Redheart grew concerned. “It might be…” She stopped at her office. “Could you please wait here?” She went inside, fetched a small cup and some pills in a tray. She set them aside and filled the cup with a nearby water cooler. “You should take these. They’re some anti-emetics.”

Rainbow looked confused. “Anti-what now?”

“They stop vomiting,” Twilight explained.

“Oh. Okay.”

Twilight took the pills with a nod and downed them.

“Thank you,” Twilight said gratefully.

An indecipherable expression briefly flickered across her features, before Nurse Redheart replied. “You’re welcome,” she said with a smile so bright, Twilight thought she had imagined it. Maybe she was getting too suspicious of Nurse Redheart? She had taken the initiative in trying to apologise and explain herself…

The nurse continued down the hall, beckoning for the pair to follow. “At first I thought, ‘What’s the harm? It’s only a little blood, some hair.’.” Nurse Redheart glanced at her hooves. “I just wanted to help. All the possibilities with a substance synergistic with magic? It’s exciting, you know? Almost like being the Star Swirl of our time!”

It wasn’t like Twilight couldn’t understand the passion, the urge, to discover something new. She could really see herself getting excited because it concerned magic. If she found a substance synergistic with magic, she would drop everything to experiment. The discovery would be revolutionary. But when it was that weighed against somepony else, was it really worth it? She thought about David, clearly nervous in the room, but still trusting them to help. He didn’t even have a choice.

“I know,” Nurse Redheart continued, “I lost it back there. It seemed like nopony was taking our discovery seriously. Then it was taken away, and our once in a lifetime opportunity vanished.” She gritted her teeth. “Every year, somepony dies because their medical care was just not enough. Research that could have saved somepony slowed down by a lack of funding, or a hiccup in research, or simply being unable to do anything with the level of magical technology available. When I saw what the human’s blood could do, I saw a change in our profession. What could one do with more potent magic? If only we could isolate the principal component of that magic synergism…”

Nurse Redheart bowed her head. “But you’re right. I’ve made a choice, and it took me time to see that it wasn’t the right one.” They passed Doctor Stable’s office, Nurse Redheart skipping a step as she saw the sign. The light was off. “I know Doctor Stable was having second thoughts about it. He went straight home after our… meeting, and didn’t show up for work today. He looked like he’d been run over by a train.” Nurse Redheart let out a dry, mirthless chuckle. “He’s a good pony, Doctor Stat showed up instead, but it wasn’t his shift. Doctor Stable must have convinced him to come over and check on his patients.”

Throughout her explanation, Twilight stayed silent. Though she could still feel Rainbow’s displeasure, it had come down a couple of notches, less seething and more simmering. For her part, Twilight could begin to understand, though nowhere near approving.

“I made a mistake,” Nurse Redheart said sincerely. “I know the human wouldn’t want to come back and hear it from myself, please pass it on for me.”

Twilight let go of a breath she had pent up. “Alright, I’ll pass it on.”

Nurse Redheart nodded gratefully. “Thank you, Twilight.”

After that, the conversation died between them, and the last minute or so of traversing to patient storage was held in painful silence.

Nurse Redheart opened the door and gestured for Twilight and Rainbow to step inside.

“His belongings are on the left shelf,” she said as they walked into the rather cramped storage room. True enough, there they were on the shelf. As Twilight reached out to grab them—

The door slammed shut.

Twilight and Rainbow spun around as they heard the lock click.

“What—?”

A muffled voice filtered back through the door. “I didn’t want to do this, Twilight, but I have to do as they say.”

“What?! What who says?” Twilight pounded on the door. “Why are you doing this?!”

Nurse Redheart was silent for a moment. “I thought you’d understand, you being a more intellectually inclined princess and all.”

“What?”

“Congratulations, you’ve been the test subject of a very advanced form of clinical trial. We’ve injected portions of the human’s blood into your body intravenously and orally. Preliminary results show a startling suppression and change in your magic.” Nurse Redheart paused. “Though nausea and other ill side-effects come into play.”

“W-What?! How could you—”

“It’s not that hard, a little here, a little there! But you’ve taken the majority of the sample and secured the human. I can only report back what I’ve found out.”

“What—”

“You sound like a broken record, but effects should kick in right about… now.”

“You can’t—!” Twilight’s vision swam slightly. She stumbled.

“Hey!” Rainbow yelled. “What have you done?”

“Can’t have you escaping, now can I? Also, I’ve arranged for something extra.”

Twilight was staring at the door, but Rainbow noticed something else.

“Uhhh, Twi’?”

A sinister wispy white smoke was filtering from a vent near the ceiling. Both of them backed away quickly.

“Hang on,” Twilight reassured Rainbow calmly. “I’ll just teleport us out of here.”

She concentrated briefly, then felt violently sick. “Ugh!” She sank down. “What…?”

Nurse Redheart’s voice came back through the door. “You’ve probably tried teleporting by now, haven’t you? Well, if you can hear me, then the drug worked. Even though it’s near the limit…” She didn’t sound too happy about that. “If only you hadn’t come today.” The last part sounded softer, like she were directing it more at herself than them.

In a louder voice, she added, “Don’t worry, it’s just a sleeping gas, you won’t feel a thing. Don’t bother looking for me, I’ll be long gone.”

“Wait!” Rainbow braced herself and kicked violently at the door. It wouldn’t budge. “You get back here!”

Twilight groaned, and Rainbow was instantly at her side. “Come on, Twi’, keep it together. What has she got you on?”

“I don’t know.” Twilight held her head in her hooves. She felt like her brain was trying to force itself out of her head, making it impossible to concentrate on a spell. “I’ve never… ugh… heard of a drug like this.” She shivered at the implications that the drug may have been laced with human blood. Who knew what the effects were? Did it start from the very first moment she made contact with David? Or was it after? Was that why…?

Rainbow glanced back at the door, thinking of giving it another try. Apart from the fluorescent lights above, there weren’t any light sources, no windows they could go through. Twilight struggled to her hooves, seeing the ominous vapour drift closer.

“Prop me up,” she told Rainbow. Rainbow came to her, wrapping her hooves around her midsection and supporting her friend. “The gas seems to hug to the ground, so we have some time before it reaches the right concentration and diffuses to our lungs.”

Rainbow was rooted to the spot, thankfully having the foresight not to fly or move around excessively and disturb the gas. Her eyes were darting around the room, trying to find a solution in an increasingly dire problem.

“What do we do, Twilight?”

Twilight’s headache was receding, but she didn’t know if she could attempt to teleport again. “If we stay long enough, we’ll eventually succumb to the gas. I don’t know what it is, but it’s probably something that can knock us out for a time. By the time we’re discovered, Nurse Redheart will have gone and whatever she wanted to keep from us, with her.”

She bit her lip as she considered the facts. The gas that was flooding the room seemed to have stopped, so they were probably counting on it being an enclosed space to eventually knock them out. If they were in a storage room, they must have been moved to a part of the hospital with no adjacent rooms. Otherwise shouting would have helped. Twilight doubted any would be forthcoming even if they tried.

The shelves around them were filled with cloth and hospital supplies. Twilight brightened considerably. That was their mistake.

“It’s not ideal, but I have an idea to buy us some time. The gas is hugging the ground, so I’m glad you’ve noticed that it’s not a good idea to move around. Though aerosolised, it’s probably got some particulates weighing it down. We need to breathe filtered air to buy some more time. Get some of the hospital gowns and rip them quickly. We’ll soak them in some detergent, hopefully the gas is composed of particulates and most will be blocked by the materials, if not maybe the surfactants will absorb some of the gasses from the air.” She didn’t know if it would, but it was worth at least trying.

Rainbow blinked at Twilight. “Huh?”

“Soak some material in detergent and wrap it around your head, then we can breath. I’m hoping it’ll buy us some time.”

Rainbow didn’t argue, trusting what she said. She soaked some hospital gowns in the detergent being careful not to move too quickly through the smokey gas.

She gave Twilight the makeshift face mask as they both tied it around their heads.

Twilight’s eyes darted around the room. It was small, cramped, and they didn’t have much time—

No, stop! Think. There are shelves, some items, can’t block the ventilation, too late. Break the door? Pick the lock. Nothing to do that with… How about magic? I can’t do it, but Rainbow has wings. The room is too small— Wait. The room is too small…

“Okay,” Twilight said, her voice muffled through the mask. “The door seems quite strong, but maybe the walls aren’t.” Twilight tapped her hoof on the wall adjacent to her. It sounded solid. She brushed aside her hesitation. “I’m thinking that one of the walls is covered with plaster and board and the other is brick. This storeroom might have originally been one room, but partitioned. If we can escape into the room, there might be enough air to dilute the gas.”

“Why did the gas stop, why didn’t she just keep it going?”

“I don’t think they wanted to give us more than necessary. We might die from an overdose.” She shivered, hoping that was the case. If she wanted them dead, she might’ve flooded the room. Or used lethal gas…

Rainbow shivered with barely contained rage. “Next time I see her, I’ll—”

“I know, Rainbow. For now, let’s concentrate on getting out.”

The wall on the opposite side sounded similar, although the echo might have been slightly more hollow. Twilight growled through her mask. She couldn’t tell. It might just be bricks on the other side. Twilight eyed the pooling gas. They would have to try soon, a sickly sweet aroma was starting to make its way through her mask, through the detergent. She was starting to feel slightly light-headed. Or maybe it was her mind? Either way, they had to try quickly.

“We should try and buck it down together,” Twilight said hastily, tapping the right wall. “Hopefully this wall.”

“I wish AJ was here,” Rainbow grumbled as she came alongside Twilight.

Twilight silently agreed. She’d probably kick through brick, let alone plaster.

“We have to try, Rainbow. Alright, on three.”

Rainbow nodded.

“One, two, three!”

Both their hind hooves struck the wall. A slight cracking could be heard, but the wall stayed put.

“Again!”

More crackling.

“Again!”

Nothing sounded.

“Twilight are you sure—”

Twilight shook her head doggedly. It had to work, they didn’t have time for another shot.

“One more time, again!”

They kicked again and felt something collapse against their hooves.

Yes! Twilight cheered in her mind. The next room could be seen but the hole was nowhere big enough. Quickly, Rainbow kicked and hacked through the rest of the plaster, only avoiding some of the support and crossbeams in the way.

“Alright!” Rainbow slipped through the hole and helped Twilight clamber through herself. On the other side, they almost collapsed in relief.

“We should search for Nurse Redheart, she shouldn’t be far,” Twilight mumbled. “Can you go look for her? I’ll go warn the others.”

“Right.” Rainbow gritted her teeth and headed for the exit. Luckily, the door was open.

Twilight glanced back at the storage room.

Why did Nurse Redheart risk so much? What the heck was the Organisation?

————————

Twilight spotted David and Pinkie standing around a few foals. Inwardly, she sighed in relief. The thought crossed her mind that Nurse Redheart or whoever else the Organisation was around would’ve tried something in the short period of time she had left.

“Pinkie, you’re okay!”

“Heya Twilight! Of course I’m okaaaaa—woah, what happened, you look terrible. Why is there a bandana around your face?”

Twilight realised she was still wearing her makeshift face mask and hurriedly removed it. She must have looked strange, going into the hospital and coming back looking like she’d been through a battle. Well, in a way, she had. She drew Pinkie away from David and the foals. Afterwards, she quickly summarised the situation to her friend in a low voice.

“Whhhaaaaaaat?” Pinkie’s eyes grew wide. “I never knew that Nurse Redheart could be such a meanie!”

Twilight nodded gravely. “We better tell David.” She turned around and focused her attention on the human.

David and the foals were speaking, but Twilight couldn’t understand a word the foals were saying. She only heard the one-sided conversation from David.

“What’re they saying?”

“I have no idea!” Pinkie exclaimed. “Although the Crusaders do.”

“Hey girls,” Twilight said, approaching.

“Oh hi ya Twilight!” Apple Bloom replied. She was speaking in a recognisable language again.

“Girls, how do you know what the human is saying?” Twilight asked. “Do you know you’re speaking a different language?”

“Uhhhh.” Scootaloo frowned. “No? Were we?” Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle both shook their heads.

“Really?” Twilight’s face contorted as she tried to find a rational explanation. Coming up with none, she pursed her lips.

Luckily, the answer fell out of the sky.

Literally.

——————

Written was staring at the food.

“What do you do with it?”

Cadance shared a look with Shining again. She felt like she was running out of reactions to the strange Auditor.

“You eat it.”

While Cadance thought that it was self-evident, apparently, Written didn’t think so.

“How?”

Cadance could only meet her questioning gaze with her own.

Written deigned to clarify it further. “In some realities I’ve seen food absorbed in a variety of ways. So as to not offend possible sensibilities, I sought advice.”

Shining asked the morbid question that hung around the table like an unsavoury smell. “So how do other places eat?”

“In different ways, using various orifices, sometimes in the reverse directi—”

“Okay!” Shining exclaimed, his face scrunched up with the regret of positing the question. Cadance shared his sentiment with carefully controlled coughing to cover up the slight gagging reflex accompanying her unfortunate mental image.

“Like this.” Cadance mimed a normal eating routine, with exaggerated motions.

Written nodded her thanks and ate a small peach that lay on the table.

“The furry texture of the skin produces a strange sensation on my tongue.” Written’s comment was both strange and unnecessary, Cadance thought. But at least she looked relatively harmless, although slightly gormless in other respects.

Written finished a couple more fruits and sighed with appreciation. She spotted something on the table.

“What’s this?” she asked, grabbing the handle.

Before Cadance could reply, or object, Written downed the contents in a few, short gulps.

“That was entirely strange,” she commented, looking cross-eyed at the now-empty pitcher.

Cadance thought it was too late to warn the strange creature that the pitcher had contained a strong alcoholic wine. In a way, downing the whole contents in a few swallows was a feat in itself. The pitcher was large and heavy, though the Auditor had wielded it like it were a fine glass cup.

“The satisfaction that mortals feel when ingesting foods is parallel to none!” Her declaration was both sudden and surprising. Rising from the table, she spread her arms. “This speaks to my very core! No wonder some choose to be mortal, food is to die for!”

The Auditor broke into a giggling fit at her own poor joke.

Cadance rose smoothly from her seat. “Maybe you’d like to sleep it off?”

“No!” Written gripped her staff and gestured at the table. “I shall repay kindness with—” she hiccupped a few times and stumbled into her chair “—with kindness!” Slurring a few words together, the Auditor muttered something under her breath. The table was suddenly overflowing with wine as the pitcher bubbled with dubiously-sourced alcohol.

“No need for that,” Cadance said quickly.

“Actually…” Shining caught a look from his wife. “No, you’re right… turn it back to normal, Written.”

The Auditor mumbled something and waved her staff. The wine disappeared.

“Where’d it go?”

“In my stomach!” Written said happily.

“Oh no.”

————————

“We really must be getting you somewhere to rest… ponies usually die with that much alcohol in their system.”

“I’m immortal!” Written declared. She gestured to herself. “This container is just… just… does some things that are like…” she trailed off, trying to find the words.

“Alright, let’s just find your—”

“Human! Dweller!” Written stiffened, she pointed her staff at the floor. “I think I know where this… this leads!” Her eyelids dropped slightly, ruining the impact of her declaration, slightly.

“Okay, okay,” Cadance said in a soothing voice. “Let’s get you back to your—what are you doing?”

“We’re going!” Written announced. A glowing point of light left her staff and grew in intensity as it traced out complicated lines on the floor. “It’s all connected!”

“Where are we—”

With a flash, Written, Cadance and Shining Armor were suddenly in mid-air.

“What the—why are we above Canterlot?!”

“Ssssssslight miscalculation,” Written replied drowsily. She tapped her staff to her head. “Hmmmm.”

Cadance dove towards her husband, but only made it partway before the scene abruptly changed.

Splash.

Water was everywhere.

“P’wah,” Cadance spat out a mouthful of water.

Written was lying face down in the pool of water next to her.

“Oh!” Cadance quickly used her magic to drag the half-drowned Auditor from the fountain. Wait a second, she recognised the fountain.

“Cadance?” Twilight’s shocked face greeted her. Another creature standing next to Twilight looked on curiously, but visibly surprised when it saw Written.

“Oh, we’re in Ponyville.” She held Written upside down slightly as she coughed the rest of the water out. Some wine followed the water. “And I think we’ve found your human.”

——————

It took a while for David to register the strange shape as being human. Heavy robes swathed the flailing thing, looking like they should have impeded her movement, but were not much more effective at stopping her than air. David watched in morbid curiosity as she regained the breath of life in the spectacular way that alcohol and water did when being mixed, especially when administered through the nose.

Cough. Hack. Splat.

The being looked like an elderly woman, but the vitality of her constitution suggested otherwise.

“Human?! Where?!” Surprised by the sudden movement, Cadance let go of Written, and she flopped to the ground with a sound much like a fish flopping on the poop deck of a ship.

It was surprising, Twilight thought, that anything still surprised her.

Written struggled to her feet, swaying a little as she blearily took in her surroundings. She spotted David.

“Ah,” she muttered, holding a hand to her mouth. “The aberration.”

“I’m sorry?” He thought he might have misheard her. “The what?”

“You’re the mistake,” she continued, not appearing to have heard him, “in Reality.” She swayed slightly. “I should send you back.”

“Hang on, wait—”

Written didn’t wait, she muttered a few things then waved her staff. Squeezing his eyes, David expected the worst to happen.

He waited longer.

He waited a little longer.

Cracking open an eye, he found the strange human gazing in befuddlement at her staff. “That’s strange…” she trailed off, then collapsed like a puppet with its strings cut.

Cadance, with hooves dangling over the fountain, glanced at the downed human, then back to Twilight. Looking around, she noticed the gathering interest of spectators. For their part, they were curious, but must have begun to acclimatise to the almost-regular occurrence of the strange and unusual in Ponyville. One could say that Ponyville was the epicentre of the paranormal, which to some residents, was a frustrating fact of living there. Still, the price of apples couldn’t be beat.

“Well, I think I should get out of the fountain now.” Cadance clambered out of the fountain, trying not to leave her dignity behind.

It was then Cadance noticed somepony was missing.

“Shining Armor?” She glanced around, but he was nowhere to be found. “Where is—” Cadance registered the slumped form of the Auditor, it was useless. Written was unconscious, her chest moving in regular slow breaths as she slept off the rest of her intoxication.

Twilight seemed to get a hold of herself. “He isn’t with you?” she asked cautiously. Cadance glanced around and shook her head.

————————

Meanwhile, Shining was in an uncontrolled descent above Canterlot. Having seen his wife and Written, his only two lifelines disappear, he could only surmise that the situation was very, very bad. Despite the claws of fear gripping his heart, Shining was doing his best to remain calm. He was, after all, a former Captain of the Guard. It was natural to be thrown into unexpected situations.

He looked down and registered that he was rapidly approaching terminal velocity. He realised he’d been deposited at a height that allowed him to see the smudge of the Crystal Empire in the distance. Hitting the ground at this speed would almost certainly be fatal. There was nothing he could use to slow his descent, expect perhaps magic. He could construct a sort of sail, but he’d never studied how to stop air, more like spells, energy and projectiles. Besides, without a proper harness to attach to, the sudden deceleration could snap off any part of the body he cared to attach to the magical parachute. He would need to construct a—

Shining stopped himself there. Already he had wasted too much time thinking of an alternative way to settle down. He could try teleporting, but momentum was retained when doing so. Teleporting to the ground would result in a pony pancake, and teleporting above water might as well be brick. If only he had wings. He knew his sister had figured out a spell that would do that, but unfortunately, he had never learned it.

Perhaps a testament to his ability to think on his hooves, Shining concluded all of this in a few seconds.

Perhaps luckily for Shining, a few pegasi were patrolling the skies.

“Heeeeey!” he shouted. Predictably, his voice was snatched from his mouth by the rushing wind, he doubted they would have heard.

Maybe they could see me?

Shining quickly conjured a spell that would signal to the patrolling pegasi.

He hoped it would work.

“Hey look, a fireworks display.”

“Ooooh, pretty.”

It was the wrong kind of attention.

The only action Shining could take was to try to land somewhere soft. He didn’t have much time, the castle was rapidly approaching and he was headed straight for one of the windows. He hoped the room was filled with feathers, but he didn’t think it was likely.

————————

Though Celestia had been around longer than Luna, Celestia didn’t quite have the reflexes that her sister possessed. When a unicorn burst through the window of the throne room, Luna ducked, but Celestia was slow on the uptake. Shining Armor crashed into Celestia as Luna grabbed the object and tried to yank it back. Impressive, since the only warning she had were a couple of seconds between the glass breaking and the unicorn hitting her sister in the face. Though a lot less fatal, it still sent Celestia tumbling in an undignified heap to the other side of the chamber. When Luna finally realised just who had tackled her sister, she sighed in relief. It was Shining Armor. Still, the former Captain of the Guard flying through the window was strange to say the least.

It was a miracle, Luna thought, that he wasn’t skewered by her sister’s horn.

“Sister, are you alright?!”

Luna hurriedly approached the crash zone. A pained groan emanated from the pile of tangled white hides, horns and hooves.

Secant was the first to break the silence.

“Is that supposed to happen?”

Even though Secant had looked innocuous throughout the whole proceedings, somehow, Luna believed humans were behind this latest upset in the order of things. Discord would get along splendidly.

“Uhh, no.” Mortimus sprang forward. “Is Her Highness okay?”

Luna was tempted to answer, but it seemed like anything she wanted to say would be thoughtless, given the circumstances.

“Yes, I’m fine,” Celestia said, trying to maintain her regal aplomb with a calm reply. The slight quiver in her voice and shaky steps dispelled the illusion of unruffled serenity. She reached down and helped a battered unicorn to get to his hooves. “Are you alright, Shining Armor?”

“My apologies, Princess, it looks like I dropped in at an inopportune time.” His words were delivered in a daze that stood in stark contrast to the impeccable etiquette that was no doubt second-nature to the former guard.

“What happened?” Luna, like the majority of the room, wondered what would prompt such an… entrance.

“A human—” Shining got no further and sank down. “Ooooh—”

Secant shook her head wildly from side to side and held out her hands as they all turned as one to look at her.

“Nope!” Secant exclaimed. “I had nothing to do with that!”

Celestia touched Shining on the shoulder. “Looks like he might have a concussion.” She signalled to the seneschal. “Please arrange for Prince Armor to visit the infirmary.”

“Yes, Princess.”

As Shining was led away, Celestia made her way back to the dais, this time standing clear of the windows. Luna joined her, leaning in.

“Are you alright, sister?”

Celestia nodded. “A little shocked, but there’s nothing wrong. I think Shining took a greater blow than I.”

“Indeed,” Luna replied, “at least an alicorn’s body is sturdier than it looks.”

Celestia and Luna turned back to the assembled guests, acting like nothing had occurred.

“So… you were saying?”

Mortimus frowned. “…We’re going to ignore the fact that Shining Armor, former Captain of the Royal Guard just burst through the windows and hit Princess Celestia in the face… with might I mention his behi—”

Celestia cleared her throat. “We’ve yet to ascertain the exact cause of the incident, but let’s refrain from mentioning it until Prince Armor has regained his senses.” Her gaze narrowed as she took in Secant. “Unless you had something—”

“Wasn’t me!”

“Then we’ll put the matter aside. I’m told Raven has a tale worth telling?”

Raven bobbed her head in a half-bow. “It’s like this…”

—————————

A griffon stood in his office, surveying the surrounding vista with a piercing glare. The glass panelled window that separated him from the sheer landscape below would be what most would describe as breathtaking. But the griffon could not be happy. In fact, he had not been happy for the past several years. This griffon was usually referred to as Gale the Pale. Pale, as his feathers were stark white, as though bleached of life.

Many had come into his presence, and always his feathers had given them pause. He found his appearance useful, though he had never been fond of name or title. He preferred anonymity. It was one of the reasons he had come to be the head of the Organisation. When one was that far up, no one asked questions, his attention was only directed to matters of interest. Interests that consumed the waking time of the leader of the world’s largest underground network.

Like the human, perhaps.

Gale was personally invested in the procurement of a human. It was interesting, it seemed, that such a being could potentially augment magic. Gale was a collector, an enthusiast, whose hobbies extended not only for rare creatures, but rare objects. Ancient volumes filled his shelves, covering a broad range of topics, some which are shared by Canterlot’s famous ‘restricted’ section.

There were many books, covering fairly mundane topics such as rare mining prospects lost to time, or the sibylline grimoires of dearly departed mages. They came from all manner of places, from private hoards of fellow collectors such as he, to the fabled feline Library of Alecazandria. One thing all these books had in common was their rarity. Gale was in love with the rare, the singular, the exceptional. He found it fascinating that objects, or indeed living beings, could increase in worth by simply being different, hard to obtain, or being the last of its kind.

But Gale didn’t collect living specimens. Nor did he collect items which boasted value due to craftsmanship, precious metals, or the like. Gale valued knowledge. Knowledge was power. His information network was extensive. In fact, Gale had started humbly in the bottom ranks of the street gangs within the griffon kingdom. He quickly realised that instead of a well placed punch, a well placed rumour or slip of the tongue got him further than any brawn to start with. He traded in information, and found that within information was power. That was what allowed him to come into his most powerful position. He had traded up in secrets until he stood over the rest with the information to destroy lives, if not nations. He stood at the pinnacle of his network, now known as the Organisation, and should have been content.

But gradually, he had become aware of a startling discovery.

Tracing back the roots of history, taken from as many of the heteromorphic species he could find, he had stumbled on the one piece of knowledge that could shatter the world. He chuckled to himself. What was once a hypothetical had now become reality all due to his careful investigation. The proof was in his grasp, all he had to do was obtain one.

The griffon ran a claw across his desk. A small amount of dust gathered on the tips of his talons. He would have to clean soon. None were allowed to be alone in his study; he didn’t even trust the maids to clean the room. He supposed the paranoia stemmed from his early brokering days, when he was always looking over his back. Now, it was below that he gazed, and he took little chance in letting anyone get close.

The loneliness sparked a brief bout of memories, which he quickly suppressed.

He had a friend, before. She was a pony of all creatures, and loyal beyond a shadow of a doubt. Only in her presence could he relax and talk candidly. No lies, no secrets, no information, no leverage. It was… pleasant and once in a while he could feel like he were back in the orphanage where they grew up, at least the happier memories. Now she was gone. It had been his fault. A chasm of debt to be repaid that he could never honour. Not because he hadn’t the means, but because of who he was.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

He realised his talon had moved on its own. It usually did so when he was agitated. He slowly let go of his emotions, a spring unwinding ponderously, but still taut with energy.

It would soon be fixed. He would see to that.

He glanced at his ledger.

A choice, then.

——————————

“Unacceptable!”

Luna couldn’t keep the words to herself. It was a breach of etiquette, but she wouldn’t settle down, not for this. She could see her sister stiffen in surprise, but from the way she neither reproached her, or said anything, spoke volumes of how she felt.

“I cannot stand to see you accosted by these underhooved knaves!” Luna looked ready to fly straight out of there, regardless of the fact that there were doors or walls in the way. At this point, Luna welcomed resistance, it would feel great to smash down a wall.

Celestia cleared her throat. “We will of course, lend a hoof in this situation, but my sister—”

“Will tear down their sorry abode even if it is brick by brick!”

“—will maintain a neutral stance until we can sort this out from both sides.”

Luna whipped around. “Surely you do not mean to parlay with these fiends?! They have done unspeakable atrocities to the innocent and the young!”

Celestia response was carefully measured.

“Luna, we can’t rush into this, not with humans involved.”

Luna opened her mouth to retort instantly, but as her sister’s words sank in, she belayed her instinctual riposte.

“Alright, sister.” Luna sighed, gathering her thoughts. “But one issue is likely separated from the other. We must approach them as parts that sum to the whole.”

Celestia raised an eyebrow. “Is that you telling me that you’ll rush over there anyway?”

“A filly, sister!”

Celestia’s stern look broke into a hapless smile. “Well, I suppose you’re right. Maybe sitting on this throne for so long has made me too much of a diplomat.” Her eyes hardened, the flinty look even sending shivers down Luna’s spine. “I don’t care for much of a group that resorts to such measures in Equestria.”

“That’s settled, then,” Luna declared, giving Raven a beaming grin.

—————————

Raven got to her hooves slowly. She didn’t know what the proper response was and stood awkwardly at the centre of focused attention. Mortimus caught her hesitating, as if trying to decide whether to bow or nod or simply stand there. Finally, she elected to do a jerky combination of all three.

Mortimus shared a glance with the rest of the ensemble.

“So you’ll help?” he ventured.

“Of course!” Luna hissed, as if shocked he would even dare to phrase it like a question.

“Yes, Princess,” Mortimus replied hastily, and bowed again for good measure.

Celestia drew her sister back by her tail, a move that was so removed from expected royal etiquette that Mortimus could only gape.

“Luna. Are you not forgetting something?”

Luna’s eyes flickered to Secant, then widened slightly as she realised. “The human.”

Secant cleared her throat. “I’m not a human.”

Celestia blinked at Secant, then shared a look with Luna, as if confirming if she heard the statement right. Luna shrugged.

“You look like a human,” Celestia finally said.

Secant flicked a hand. “I am human right now, but I’m not human. I’m a Dweller.”

Celestia hesitated. “A Dweller?”

Secant nodded emphatically, acting like it was a fact that needed no explanation. Mortimus nudged her, not only because it was rude not to reply, but also because he wanted a more thorough explanation too. The one Secant gave when they both met was sparse to say the least and small portion he got anyway was confusing as all else.

Secant pursed her lips as she tried to think of a way of phrasing her response.

“I manage—” she stopped briefly with a slight frown “—I mean I used to manage the Records.”

Seeing no comprehension on their expressions, Secant pulled a dimly glowing piece of parchment from… her chest.

Wile’s eyes bulged as he gaped at Secant. “Where did you keep that?”

“In my personal space.” Secant drew a cotton candy out of thin air, then placed it back. Mortimus could feel his mouth pop open.

So that’s where it went.

“This is part of a Record,” she explained, waving the luminescent document excitedly. “It has the most amazing thing written on it!”

“What?” Mortimus was intensely curious. What was it that was so important to the Dweller that she had come all this way to find the human?

“I have to show this to the human. His name is David.”

Celestia was intrigued. “Can we read what it says?”

Secant clutched the parchment to her chest. “It’s very important I give it to him.”

Celestia nodded reassuringly. “I promise we will give it back quickly, would you mind letting us take a look?”

Secant hesitated, darting Mortimus a tepid glance.

Mortimus didn’t see the harm in giving it to the Princesses. He nodded his assent. “Maybe they can help you find ‘David’?”

Secant smiled. “You always think of everything, Mortimus.” She held out the parchment to the Princess.

Celestia’s horn glowed, then immediately cut out.

“What?” she said in shock. “I can’t take the sheet.”

Luna frowned. “Let me try, sister.”

Her horn glowed, and cut out as well.

“What?” Her expression mirrored her sister’s a moment ago. She glared at Secant. “What manner of trickery is this?”

Secant immediately turned to Mortimus. “What’s wrong?”

He sighed inwardly, it was as if Secant believed he had all the answers, all the time.

“I’m not sure. Why don’t you hold up the parchment so that the Princesses can see?” He paired the suggestion with a nudge of his head to her behind. Secant stumbled forward a couple of steps, then made her way to the dais somewhat nervously, and presented the partial Record.

Celestia scanned it. Then scanned it again. Finally, she sighed, and beckoned her sister to take a look.

Luna pursed her lips. “I cannot read this.”

“Neither can I.” Celestia’s brow wrinkled. “It’s in some language I’ve not come across and there are many we are fluent in. This should not be a problem.”

“But it is, sister.” Luna grew thoughtful. “Perhaps the language had been inscribed by humans? A language we would not be familiar with?”

“Perhaps it was written—”

“Written!” Secant bit her lip nervously. “Where?!”

“What?”

“No, where?”

“Nowhere? Not here?”

“Here?!” Secant whipped around.

“No, I think she means ‘who’,” Mortimus interjected.

“Who?”

“Written.”

“Where?!”

Mortimus slapped a hoof to his face. “Written, whoever that is, isn’t here!”

Secant glanced around again. “Oh.”

“Who’s Written?” Celestia was beginning to lose track of where the Dweller was jumping around.

Secant looked like her own shadow was going to eat her with the way she nervously scanned her surroundings.

“Uhh, she’s an Auditor. Looks like me, except super-old.”

“An Auditor?” Celestia frowned, though Luna’s expression suddenly cleared.

“Sister, if I may?” Luna leaned inwards and whispered into her ear. After a minute or so, Celestia straightened.

“I see. Is that why you were present here?”

“Yes, sister. I was going to explain further, but events caught up to us.”

“Indeed.” Celestia paused. “Well, one problem at a time. We will help you, Raven, so we’ll prepare for a visit to your sister. Hopefully she will still be there when we get there, if not, we’ll do everything we can, okay?”

Raven glanced at Mortimus, who nodded.

“Okay,” she answered. Her eyes glittered with hope, but for some reason, Celestia felt uneasy.

————————

Cadance had caught up with Twilight.

“How are you feeling? Are you okay?”

“I’m…”

Terrible.

“…fine.”

Cadance looked like she wanted to pursue the matter, but reluctantly let it drop.

“Twilight, what are your thoughts about… all of this?”

Twilight wiped her face with a tired hoof. “Honestly, I don’t know, it’s been one rollercoaster after the other.”

Cadance nodded. “Somehow I don’t think taking a dive in Ponyville’s fountain is going to be the weirdest thing I’ll be doing.”

Twilight managed a weak laugh. “It just makes me feel strange, thinking of Nurse Redheart. I’ve never had a pony do that before, so willing to do that much to deceive and destroy.” She shivered. “I can’t believe I trusted her.”

“If it makes you feel any better,” Cadance said, “at least you weren’t thrown through the window of Canterlot castle.”

Twilight giggled at that. News of her brother had been waiting for them, relayed by a slightly ornery Spike, who had felt a little left out from their recent adventures. Still, the dragon wasn’t too fussed, a recent comic had been released and he was nose-deep within the covers, working his way through the whole set before starting on the new release. There was one, Twilight thought, that always had a firm gasp on his priorities.

“Now, he can stop teasing me about causing the Princess trouble. If anything happens, I’m going to bring up the fact that he hit Princess Celestia straight in the face.”

Cadance grinned. “You’d think we’d be safe in the Crystal Empire, but noooo.”

Seeing Cadance make light of the situation made Twilight breathe a little easier. “Things have a way of catching up to us, don’t they?”

“Princesses don’t catch a break, Twilight, they just get a few months before the next disaster that’ll consume the world in a thousand years of darkness comes around.” Cadance smiled, but gradually grew pensive. “It doesn’t make it easier, though.”

Twilight nodded, feeling the weight of so many lives settle on her shoulders. “At least we know it doesn’t only concern us, I’m sure we can work something out between, well, all of us.”

Cadance clicked her tongue. “We’d better decide what to do from here on out.”

Twilight made to reply, but a crash from upstairs interrupted her.

“Where did that come from?” Cadance asked, it was in a tone that belied the fact she already suspected.

Twilight sighed. “From where the humans were.”

————————

Written was still out of it and David was watching her warily. From what he gathered from the hurried exchange between Twilight and the mysterious newcomer ‘Princess Cadance’, Written wasn’t exactly human. Or at least she claimed she wasn’t. She was an ‘Auditor’, apparently a being that exists in a place called ‘the Root of All Causes’. She was one of many Auditors that were in charge of keeping Reality in check, in the cases it went awry, like he was.

It seemed like everything he wanted was coming true in such an unexpected way. As soon as the Auditor woke up, he might be able to go home. It seemed like a great prospect. The whole concept sounded crazy, but he didn’t care. It was the most concrete thing he’d be given so far in this messed up reality.

David had been left alone with Rainbow and Pinkie, who were seated awkwardly on the other side of the room. They kept an eye on him from time to time, but with no real means to communicate, they didn’t say much. David was acutely aware of the laser-like stares Rainbow was giving him. He sensed the intensity behind it, and was uncomfortable, but the anger he saw practically radiating of her body didn’t look like it was directed at him.

Rainbow didn’t look happy at all when she came back from the hospital. She shook her head, kicked a cloud out of existence and then remembered something and flew back into the hospital. When she came out, David was surprised to see his clothes and phone still intact. They were dried and recently washed as well. He left his phone off, as it wasn’t useful and it would only waste power. He had a feeling there wouldn’t be a charging station anywhere around anyway.

When David asked Twilight where he could change his clothes, she had blinked dumbly back at him for a few moments. When he explained that it was a bit embarrassing for him to be changing out in the open, what with certain parts dangling about, Twilight was caught up in his self-consciousness and was amusingly mortified. They decided to move back to the castle in order to figure out what to do next. He got changed in their bathroom, at least he thought it was a bathroom, some of the facilities had looked unfamiliar, then was assigned watch over the sleeping Auditor.

Rainbow and Pinkie joined him shortly thereafter, but most of this took part in silence.

“Bleurgh.”

David never thought he’d be grateful to hear such a sound.

“Hello?” he tried. How do you greet a sobering lady? He’d never really had the opportunity.

“Argh, my mortal container is screaming so loud, how do you make it stop?” Written squeezed her eyes shut and moaned. “Oooh talking makes it worse, I should st—” True to her words, she stopped mid-word.

“Do you know where you are?” David asked mildly.

“In the Crystal Empire,” Written replied. She blinked blearily for a few seconds, then something seemed to sink in. Her eyes flew open.

“Sir!” she exclaimed, shooting bolt up-right in the bed and saluting David.

“Uhhh…” David trailed off.

Written shook her head. Then glanced back at David and then slapped her cheeks a few times. In her state, she apparently confused him with someone else.

“You’re the human, aren’t you?”

“Ye-es.” David didn’t know why he dragged out the affirmation, it wasn’t as if denying it would get him anywhere.

Written sighed in relief. Then she glared at him suspiciously.

“You’re speaking in the Salient Script, how are you doing that?”

“What? The Salient Script? What’s that?”

“It’s the Author’s language—” Written wiped her face “—never mind, it isn’t relevant to you. I need to get you back where you belong.”

She looked around. “Where’s my staff?” she demanded belligerently.

David gestured to her. Written looked at her hand. Her staff was in it.

“Oh,” she said. “Thank you.”

David nodded, he was too nervous to comment.

“Alright.” Written mumbled something again and pointed the staff at David.

Rainbow leapt in front of David and said something.

Written blinked at Rainbow. “What? No. I’m sending him back to his world.”

Rainbow wrinkled in confusion and said something back.

“Yes, well, I think he would like to return as soon as possible.”

Rainbow turned to David, her eyes locking with his.

“Uhh…” He didn’t know why he was hesitating. This was what he wanted, right? To go home?

“I don’t belong here,” he said. “I…”

Where did he belong, exactly? Was it in the boring repetition of his predictable job? Was it in the safe environment filled with people he knew, and the constant flow of humanity? Was it in his cheap, cramped apartment close to the airport where he merely thought it a convenience for work? When did he start believing that was the place he wanted to return to?

Written brought him out of his reverie with a light tap of her staff. Her voice, if anything, was gentle.

“You shouldn’t be here, there is little joy in being different. Learn to accept your fate.”

Rainbow shouted something angrily at Written. Pinkie joined in and added in her piece, with the same fierce expression. Though he couldn’t understand them, he knew that for some reason, they were defending him.

Against what?

His thoughts dissolved in emotional turmoil.

“Enough.” Written’s words cut sharply through the noise of their protests. With a chilling glare, she appraised both ponies, then she returned her attention to David. “Do you have any defence that you would like to put forward so that you may stay?”

David clenched his fists, wracking his brains for a reason to reject Written. Hyaline needed a human, Twilight had mentioned her academic interest, and he had yet to thank and repay the kind ponies that had originally saved his life. But with one word he could be away from all this craziness, this magical world that was filled to the brim of death defying danger and the deep unknown. He could be back to his old life. Where everything, apart from his clumsy old self, moved like clockwork.

“I want to stay,” he finally said. “Some of them need me. I don’t know why, but they do. Until I finish what I started, I can’t go back home.”

Written was silent for a moment.

“Denied.”

Her staff struck the floor.

Nothing happened for the second time.

Written couldn’t believe it.

David heaved a sigh of relief.

A flash of annoyance was visibly suppressed. Written stared down David as if to admonish a troublesome child, though David glared back. It wasn’t his fault her stupid—whatever it is she was doing—didn’t work.

“That’s impossible,” she muttered with a choked growl and gritted teeth. “It’s supposed to take you back.”

“Well it didn’t,” David shot back irritably. “Maybe I shouldn’t be taken back. Or maybe you should tell me why you’re so desperate to have me back in my world.”

Written glared at David. “You’re so adamant in your position, because you see things only in your limited world. This is an issue that expands beyond your narrow cone of reality. Your actions have an impact, no matter how small.” She sank back in her chair, looking tired beyond belief. “I have been doing this job for millennia. Longer than you or any creature of this world would know.”

David crossed his arms, refusing to budge.

“Fine, you want an explanation? Will that drill into your immature little mortal mind the importance of what I do? What it means to be an Auditor?” Written waved her staff. A brilliant point of light inscribed itself into the ceiling. From it, the glowing point branched out in a web-like pattern, growing along the plane of the ceiling and fading slightly towards the edges. Written tapped the staff on the ground again, sending a small sparkling cloud to surround the central point.

“Long ago, there was the centre of Reality. In it was the Root of all Causes, a vast structure that held the Author of all Things, a being of immense power that resided in her office on the highest point in the tower—”

“—The Author?” David interrupted. “What, like—”

Written shrugged. “That’s not a question I care to answer, nor is it relevant. All you need to know is that she exists and lives in that tower.” She glared at David. “Can I continue?” David sighed and nodded.

“Good,” Written replied wryly. She gestured to the point, and it grew, morphing into an immense structure that seemed to be composed of many strands braided together, like the thick trunk of an ancient tree. They formed two strands that twisted together, held in place with intervening platforms stretching up into the ceiling. It reminded David of DNA, the way the helical strands stretched high above.

“Here is the Root. At first, nothing of much note occurred, the Author was content on being alone, and reflective. But eventually she tired of the static nature around her, and decided to create stories. From a small spark spawned a Reality. Realities of finite time teeming with finite life that would amuse and entertain with their maddening rush to compete against adversity… at least until their end. From this, the Author learned of both mortality and morality. She delighted in the antics of her creation, a self-replicating endless source of amusement.

“The Author took it upon herself to interfere with her creations, as her creations would often tempt her to dabble in their Realities. However, the Author did not anticipate the effect of a powerful being such as herself appearing in the fragile Realities, being able to create and destroy at whim. She found that in doing so, it would damage the fabric of Reality, causing rifts to appear. If these Realities weren’t corrected and the displaced restored back to their Reality, stories would bleed into each other causing chaos, upheaval, and the violation of the Laws of Nature within these Realities. This would often result in the extinction of both Realities.”

Written paused here, locking eyes with David. “I believe you’ve fallen into one of these rifts.”

“The damage the Author had done was like cancer, it spread throughout the network of Realities, destroying everything the Author had created. Desperate to fix the problem, the Author decided two things were required. One, that she no longer interfered with Reality itself, instead recording Reality into the Registry of Mortals and secluding herself in the Root for all time until Realities were extinguished. Two, Auditors to help manage and maintain Reality. Their task was to correct Reality and prevent a catastrophe that will end in the extinction of all Realities and thus life itself.”

As Written finished her story, she glared at the ponies and David in turn.

“So, knowing all this, would you still refuse?”

————————

“This is my home,” Raven announced, looking a little sheepish to be in the centre of attention.

It was a quiet affair, tucked in between two townhouses that overlooked a quiet street. Raven bit her lip and strode forward, knocking on the door. When there was no reply, she cast a nervous look to Mortimus, who shared her rising unease.

Raven tried the knob… and found it unlocked. Rushing inside, she called out.

“Silkie? Silkie?!”

There was no reply.

“Here!” Mortimus called out, pointing to a piece of parchment fixed to the table with a knife. He prised off the knife and handed the parchment to Raven.

“To Raven and her associates,” Raven began, reading out loud the contents. “You are cordially invited to my residence, at the Grand Residential Manor on the edge of Hoofer’s road. You may bring whomever you wish. Signed, Gale.”

“Gale?!” Wile spluttered. “You mean the boss who runs the whole thing?!”

“Oh we’re in trouble,” Swiper muttered. He glanced guiltily in Raven’s direction. “Sorry.”

Raven sighed. “I guess I’ll have to go.”

Mortimus smiled. “Don’t worry, we’ll come with you, you won’t be alone.”

Luna swept Raven up in a winged hug. “Don’t worry child, we shall see to it that your sister is returned.”

Raven nodded, too choked up to say anything. She just wanted it to end.

————————

Mortimus didn’t know what he had been expecting. Perhaps a run-down little shack, or some cramped accomodation that was unfit for pony-living, or maybe a grim-looking prison-house. He admittedly had let his imagination run wild.

The grandiose mansion looked startlingly impressive. Behind the small brick walls was a well-tended garden, with trimmed hedges of various animals from leopards to rhinos, and a beautiful babbling creek that ran between the hedge figures in a winding pattern, skirting around a central path leading up to impressive double-doors.

Secant was wide eyed and busy tailed, gasping and pointing out things here and there. Her reactions faded into the background, with Mortimus merely shrugging and nodding where appropriate. Raven’s gang walked in silence, looking increasingly uncomfortable with each passing moment, more so than when they were visiting the Princess. With the way they were walking, mostly hunched, they looked like the sky was about to fall on them. Raven took the lead, stepping forward with confident steps, tinged with a shade of anxiety that Mortimus could see she was desperate to hide.

In contrast, the Princesses, trailing behind, took in the surroundings with opposing expressions. Celestia kept a fairly neutral indifference, whilst Luna looked surprised that the faceless being she cursed would live in something so beautiful. Or at least, that’s what Mortimus gathered from the way Luna grudgingly acknowledged the signs and kept to the path, though on occasion she would kick a loose stone into the pond, looking equally satisfied and guilty.

As they approached the doors of the mansion, it opened, and a wiry-looking pony stood there with a placid expression, as if they had been invited. Raven’s gang took a step back in surprise, but the pony ignored them, instead turning to the Princesses. He bowed slightly, his fine suit crinkling slightly as he did so.

“Good afternoon, my name is Hardline. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” Hardline straightened his tie and ran a hoof through his slicked back mane. His expression was haughty, despite the polite-sounding ‘welcome’.

“Certainly,” Celestia continued smoothly before anyone could react. “We would certainly like to meet your superior.”

Hardline’s eyes flashed in anger for a moment, but it was so fleeting that Mortimus swore it was never there in the first place.

“He will be with you in a moment. I will fetch him. Meanwhile, would you like anything to eat or drink?”

Celestia politely declined, and Hardline ignored the rest of the group, heading up the stairs. They all took a seat around an expansive table, surrounded by finery and art.

“My sister is in one of the rooms here,” Raven said, glancing around. “I can feel it.”

“She might not be, let’s keep our eyes open,” Mortimus warned.

Raven nodded.

They were interrupted by a side-chamber door opening. A towering griffon stood in the entrance, feathers white with the tips tinged in slight golden hues when the light struck in the right places. He glided more than walked, taking a place at the head of the table and nodding to the princesses, but now bowing.

“I am Gale, the leader of the Organisation,” he declared, “I’m sure you have questions.”

Luna shot up. “I don’t have a question. I have a demand. Let her sister go!”

Despite Luna’s inflammatory remark, Gale remained unmoved.

“Hardline?”

The pony was immediately at his side. “Yes, sir.”

“The papers.”

Shortly thereafter papers appeared in the grasp of his talons. Gale waved the papers, then placed them in front of the Princesses.

“These are guardianship papers,” he said. “I am their legal guardian. It was signed by their dead parents.” He raised a feathery brow. “Curious, isn’t it?”

Luna tossed her head, she didn’t even glance down. “Forged. They couldn’t be real.”

Gale sighed. “Why are you so adamant in taking Raven’s sister away? I can understand if Raven wanted to move away, but why her sister? She’s happy here.”

“Then why can’t we see her?” Luna pressed. When Gale said nothing, she grinned in triumph. “See? Now—”

“These are genuine,” Celestia said. Luna twitched in surprise and leaned in to whisper something to her sister. Celestia nodded and Luna looked shocked.

Gale was unruffled. “Of course they are.”

“Don’t talk about it like I’m not here.”

The voice came from a filly standing by the door. Her wavy two-toned mane swept back as she stared them down.

“Raven, why do you have to make things so difficult?”

Raven’s mouth popped open. She looked like she’d been slapped across the face.

“Silkie, this isn’t our home.”

“It is. And just because you don’t care to abide by our new father’s rules, doesn’t mean—”

“He’s not our father!” Raven pounded the table. “And this isn’t where we belong! How could you say that? After all we’ve done! I don’t want to do all that we’ve been doing.”

Silkie tossed her head. “You’re such a drama queen about it. What’s wrong with an improvement here and there? So what if we have to do a couple of things? It’s worth it.”

Gale waved a claw. “That was my fault. I let Hardline get carried away. Though loyal, he is only loyal to me, he sees anyone else as expendable, even though it is not true. Isn’t that right, Hardline?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I wouldn’t force you two to do anything you weren’t comfortable with. At first I thought to leave you two to your own devices, but I learned that you’ve been doing more than that.” His face affected a pained expression, but it looked out of place, as if he wasn’t used to that emotion at all.

“I should have known,” he continued mildly, “but now that I do, I’ll make sure it never happens again.” Gale gave her a stilted smile. “In any case, bringing the Princesses here as well as the human, well done, Raven.”

Raven frowned. “I didn’t do it for you.”

Gale shrugged. “You’re just like your mother, such a rigid moral compass.” When Raven gaped at him, he shrugged. “I suppose she didn’t mention it, but your mother and I go very far back. She used to work for me. I’ve told your sister all about it, so she knows the truth.” Silkie nodded behind Gale.

“W-What?” Raven shrank back. “What was she doing for you?”

Gale didn’t look inclined to answer with the way he glanced at the present company. He turned to the Princesses. “I’m sorry you’ve made the trip all the way out here all for nothing, but I think it would be best for you to leave. This is a private matter.”

Celestia stared at the griffon. “How incredibly rude, dismissing two princesses like that.”

Gale bobbed his head. “Perhaps, but this concerns Raven, Silkie and I, I would like to keep it within the family, as it were.”

Celestia sighed. “Let’s skip through the dance with diplomacy, I’ve had enough of that in the Courts. You strike me as a characterful griffon, tell me, what do you know about humans?”

Gale’s eyes glinted as he leaned forward. “I’m an information broker, Princess, any information you want from me must be paid in full.” He leaned back. “Though I’m not averse to doing whatever is necessary to obtain it, and so are my subordinates.” He glanced sidelong at Raven. “…If they are so willing.”

“So you don’t believe you’ve done anything wrong?” Celestia queried mildly. She raised an eyebrow.

Gale tapped the table with a talon. “Right or wrong? Good and evil? Black and white? Order and chaos? It’s always these two extremes. Have I done something that could be considered ‘wrong’? Certainly. Do I regret it? That’s another question entirely. I haven’t done anything wrong so far in the eyes of the law. I’ve merely been gathering information. Now if my subordinates caused you trouble… well… that would be a different matter. I did take the opportunity to invite you here to see for yourself.”

Celestia raised an eyebrow. “The note was stabbed through with a knife.”

Gale laughed. “Theatrics, Hardline likes to get ahead of himself, don’t you?”

Hardline stood impassively. “Yes, sir.”

“See?” Gale waved away the issue with his claw. “But you’ve asked about the human. How much do you want to know?”

“What are they? Why are they here?”

Gale tapped a claw on the table. “First off, I want to get this out of the way.” He turned to Raven. “You don’t want to be here, despite your sister, despite the wealth, the lifestyle, all because of what you think of me and the Organisation I run?”

Raven hesitated, then nodded reluctantly. “I don’t want my sister to be here, but if she doesn’t want to go—”

“—I don’t want to go,” Silkie interjected firmly.

“—Then I guess that’s her decision.”

“And what’s yours?” Gale asked. “What’s your alternative?”

“I…” Raven trailed off, fuming that she couldn’t think of anything.

“Just come here,” Silkie insisted, her immutable confidence tilting slightly. “We don’t have to answer to anypony but ourselves, and father. We can be free.”

Raven glanced around. Sure there were riches, sure there was power, but freedom? Silkie was only deluding herself, she was sure of it.

“You can’t stay here,” Raven pressed. “It’s poison. Mother said—”

“I don’t care what Mom said!” Silkie snapped. “She’s not here anymore. Gale is. And he knows stuff! You’re just too bull-headed to see that.”

“Silkie, you know that—”

“You always have my best interests, is that it?” She snorted. “You’re being selfish this time. You just can’t see the bigger picture. If you talked to Gale—father—you’d know.”

“Silkie—”

“Make a choice, Raven.”

“What other choice do you have, Raven?” Gale said, his claw tapped the table in a regular rhythm, the habit reminding her of the slow beat of the heart. Her own was pumping furiously. “I’ve got guardianship of you. Where will you go?”

“I’ll just go…”

“So, that’s it? You don’t wish to be here so you’ll run away? Perhaps you’ll try Equestria’s Social Services?” He leaned in. “And we all know how that went.” Gale leaned back. “Here, you have the opportunity to live as you wish. You needn’t concern yourself with the seedier side of life, you can just be here, carefree. Tempting, no? And if you want to avail yourself to the Organisation, we offer what we offer anyone. Money for service, what anyone would desire.”

“You are on the grey edges of the Law, as I recall,” Celestia remarked. “You’re borderline illegal.”

“Grey being ambiguously defined, and what of it? If some can’t pay on time, we give them a little ‘encouragement’. If we seek information that could tip the scales in our favour, why not? And what of information that could revolutionise the world? What would you do with information like that?”

Celestia’s answer was immediate. “Put it to the benefit of everypony, of course.”

Gale chuckled. “Are you a slave to your ponies, then? Do you do everything to their beck and call and hope they will make something of themselves if only they tried?” Gale’s face wrinkled in disgust. “That’s not living, that’s being parasitic.”

“And exploiting others isn’t?” Luna shot back. “Taking advantage of the many to please the few seems hardly the better alternative.”

“If you do not like being the many, consider becoming the few,” Gale replied. He gestured to Silkie. “She’s made her choice. What about you?” His question was directed at Raven.

“I… don’t want to be a part of this,” she said. “I’ll take my chances out there.”

Gale sighed. “I’m so disappointed in you, Raven. I guess this is for the best.” Gale shifted his attention to Secant. “What about you, Dweller? What are you in the flow of life? Drifter or seeker?”

Secant looked at Gale as if he were an interesting morsel of food. “Nothing that concerns you, fake-Auditor.”

For the first time since meeting them, Gale looked surprised. “Oh? And what makes you say that?”

Secant frowned. “Something about you tells me you’re one of them, but I can’t put my finger on it.”

The griffon nodded, getting up from the table. “Order, when there is Chaos. That’s what an Auditor does. I have spent years tracing back the roots of history to reveal the very nature of our reality.” He fixed Luna and Celestia a look. “But you two would know all about that, wouldn’t you?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Celestia said evenly.

“No, I suppose not. You, like the others, have been fooled into thinking that you are inhabitants of this world. When you live so long in a mortal container that you eventually forget that you are something so much more.” His wings stretched out as he ran a claw through them, stroking them. “There are so many races here in Equestria. All a mix and match of beings jumbled all in one place, but do you know? They all came from one source?” He gestured at Secant. “You should know, you came from it.”

Gale licked his beak. “Ah when Reality collapses, there can only be one force to prevent it! The Auditors, who have all but disappeared, leaving behind an inheritance to their descendants. Only those who know can truly appreciate—and utilise—their legacy.” Gale tapped his chest. “And we know.” He turned to Raven. “Still think you picked the right side?”

Raven said nothing as Gale smiled wider. “Well, I think this will be all confusing to you, you who are ignorant of the true nature of the world. I pity you, you who will not know of the impact of the right mistake, at the wrong time.” He flicked a claw. “Unfortunately, the human you have brought was not a real human. She is not the one we’re looking for. You may go, all of you.”

“You can’t think that we’ll just leave after you have told us so much,” Luna spluttered incredulously. “If what you say is true—”

“Then what? You’ll arrest me? What wrongs have I committed right now?” Gale held up his claws. “If I have done a single crime that you could arrest me for then do so, otherwise I would kindly ask you all to leave. Silkie and I have much to discuss with Hardline. And it will concern the future of everyone. But for you, you will be the footnotes of a discarded history.”

Hardline gestured for them to leave.

Luna stood her ground, but Celestia touched her on the shoulder, lightly shaking her head.

“We can do nothing here,” she said, glancing at Gale, “but we will return.”

“I look forward to it, Princess.” He chuckled wryly as they left. “I’ve always found it poetic that alicorns would show up near the end of the world.”