Prince Blueblood was wearing some sort of blue and red military jacket, something with little golden ropes but was devoid of the medals that Nut was certain should be there. He stood in the middle of the room, tall, proud, commanding, and there were two other ponies present with him, both foals, both unicorns. One was a filly—a rather sickly filly—who’s pelt seemed to be falling out and she had jaundice yellow eyes. The other, a colt, had a cup of what was sure to be military grade

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The illusion of rain spattered against the nonexistent window. A visual decoration of masterful illusion, the window was designed to display whatever was currently visible outside; sunshine, moonshine, or whatever the weather might be. This could be changed, of course, and the nonexistent window could be made to always show the sun, the moon, or even just a pleasant gallery of popular art. 

Canterlot was largely artificial. 

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Is now finished.

As stated, I don't know how I feel about it yet.

It was a perfect, sunny day, and somehow, that felt wrong. Funerals were supposed to be rainy, dreary days, sad days, grey days with melancholy skies. This day was nothing of the sort. The newspaper headlines were ablaze with promises and pledges of unity, of togetherness, all to present a united front to the enemy. From tragedy had come inspiration, a sense of purpose, a will to do better.

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Sitting near Justice Good Reason, an old green earth pony stallion lit a cigar.

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Really big reveal.

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After enduring the warnings, the lecture, the explanation that he had to be careful, Flicker was allowed to see Hennessy. The critical care unit was different than the wing where he and Piper were staying, this place had an eerie quiet that left him feeling unsettled. The lights were kept dim and the wing was dark. He and Piper had to wear padded paper booties on their hooves to keep the sound of their walking muffled.

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The hospital room was dim, but not dark. Flicker lay in the bed, groggy, with Spud curled up in a ball beside him. Some kind soul had stitched his cat back together and had allowed him to stay. At the foot of the bed was a table, and upon the table, two weapons rested. One was Heartfinder, the other was Doctor Sterling’s silver rapier. Both had somehow survived the explosion, but it wasn’t all that surprising, as they were magical weapons.

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Cᴜʀɪᴏᴜs. Tᴇʟʟ ᴍᴇ, ᴄᴏʟᴛ… ᴡʜʏ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ᴏɴᴇ sᴜᴄʜ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜ ʙᴇᴀʀ ᴀ ᴍᴀʀᴋ sᴜᴄʜ ᴀs ᴛʜɪs?

Trembling from the change in Chronos’ voice, Flicker tried to look at the dark alicorn and found that he couldn’t. Majesty radiated from Chronos in waves, a tangible, kinetic force. Flicker felt like he was all of five years old again and part of him wanted to grovel on the ground. The sounds of clocks ticking filled Flicker’s ears, along with chiming bells, perhaps an indicator that his hour had come?

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The lane was very narrow, no wider than a wagon. This was an old place in Canterlot, with exquisite, graceful towers packed together like trees in a forest. The cobblestones were dark grey, with glittering speckles, made from some stone that Flicker did not know or recognise. Turning his head, he focused on the tower at the end of the lane, where the tunnel was. It was tall, square in shape, and quite old looking. It was surrounded by a wall on three sides, a tall wall with spikes

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Is a worrisome sign indeed, is it not?

Doctor Sterling’s silver floating orb of light led the way and Flicker followed, splashing through the mucky water of the sewer. Behind him, Hennessy and Piper trailed after him, laying traps every few yards as Doctor Sterling instructed. Piper was good at setting traps, better than Flicker was, even with his practice, but that was no surprise, seeing as how she had better telekinetic manipulation than he did.

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So, I took a nap earlier after posting the chapter, and when I wake up, I have private messages asking me what the hell is going on.

I'll quote Dlaf rferg:

I just realized something and now I feel stupid.

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Doctor Sterling looked scared. Flicker wasn’t used to seeing the good doctor like this. Standing in the hallway, he waited for the doctor to say something, but he seemed out of sorts. Shuffling on his hooves, Flicker knew that he had to be practicing with Mister Balister right now, and he hoped for mercy for his tardiness.

“Doctor Sterling?” Flicker could see the corner of the doctor’s eye quivering and his mustache was crooked.

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So, it is time for things to pick up in The Mask Makes the Pony, and there is some trouble. I want the pace to pick up a bit, because we approach the end and there are a lot of things that need to happen.

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The two would-be warriors gave each other wary glances while they held their swords at the ready. Moonlit’s face was a stone mask with no emotions visible, but his twitching ear gave him away. Flicker took this as a sign of fear, but the paranoid voice in the depths of his mind warned him that the twitching ear might be a ruse. Anything might be a ruse.

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I'm working on a new chapter of The Mask Makes the Pony, but it is going to be a while. It's an action chapter. Thank you for your patience. Please enjoy the quote in relation to the story. That is all.