Guilt of a Phantom

by Powerdrainer

Chasing Truths

Edited by Slayerseba, Halusm, and Clawder.

Chasing Truths

<<>><<>><<>>

It was early in the morning, and the steady beeping of the heart monitor beside Rolling Stone gave no indication of the distress his immortal soul was currently in.

Standing face to face with the skeletal pony, Rolling Stone had to fight every fiber of his being not to attack the ghost before him.

Every attempt so far had failed, and the few times he managed to knock the ghost apart it just as easily pulled itself back together.

And as he rapidly discovered, this fight had never been one of strength, but of mind as the ghost kept spouting lies to twist his thoughts; the blatantly obvious illusion of his own battered body lying on a hospital bed near him not fooling anypony, least of all him.

"Your lies won't work on me," he growled, scraping a hoof but remaining where he stood.

With a weary sigh, Mort shook his head. "As I have said, I'm not lying. I am the Pale Pony, and you are currently lying in a hospital bed, near death. Which is the only reason you are able to see me right now."

Rolling Stone merely snorted in anger while trying to come up with a fighting strategy.

While he couldn't remember how he got there, the last of his recallable thoughts being a hazy fight against timberwolves. Even then, this ghost obviously did something to him, pulling his mind into this illusion and feeding him those lies.

As it was though, he couldn't do a thing. The ghost had proven as much. No, he needed his gear if he wanted any chance to take this abomination down. But with nothing more than a busted blaster to fight the timberwolves, he was already under-equipped to start with. But even the malfunctioning weapon was no longer with him, which only left him with one option: retreat, regroup, resupply, and take this ghost down for good.

With the rough outlines of a workable strategy beginning to form, Rolling Stone charged the ghost a final time, tackling the thing with enough force to break its skeletal body apart once more, then made a mad rush for the door.

Fully intending to bash through the woodwork, he was only half surprised when he phased through what should have been a solid surface; only further solidifying the obvious illusion he was put in.

Hopefully, the distance between him and the ghost would break this trickery of the mind and reveal the truth to him.

Rushing through the mostly empty halls of what looked like a hospital, he ran headfirst into a pair of nurses walking around a corner, talking with each other in medical jargon as one of them read something from a clipboard.

Neither of the pair noticed anything amiss though, as Rolling Stone, despite his attempts to slow down in time, barreled through them as if they weren't even there.

But one of the nurses did falter in their step, showing a full-body shudder.

"Everything alright, Redheart?" The other asked.

"Yes, I just felt really cold all of a sudden."

Both shrugged this off after a moment and carried on with their conversation, unaware of the troubled stallion as he fled away, trying to forget the unexpected and unwanted internal body anatomy lesson he just stumbled into, literally.

Whatever kind of curse that ghost had placed on him, it wasn't as shoddy as he first believed it to be.

All but flying down some stairs, he continued to run into doctors and nurses, yet all of them were unable to see or hear him as he sped past.

Thankfully he found what appeared to be the exit of this cursed place, and he dearly hoped it was also the exit out of this nightmarish illusion as he slammed into, and promptly phased through the doors and stumbled out into the empty streets of Ponyville.

Scanning his surroundings, looking for anything that could be of use to him, his eyes quickly settled on the guest house he and his team stayed at.

It was more than a long shot, with his mind trapped as it was. But if there was any chance for him to break free, then it would be there where all his equipment was kept.

Illusory weapons they may be, but they might just give him a fighting chance; to hold out long enough for the others to pull him free from this ghost's diabolical hold.

With no other options clear to him, he rushed through the empty streets towards the guest house, failing to notice the skeletal ghost standing on the hospital's roof, watching him run away while a tired sigh escaped him.

"Oh, Thanasia," said Mort. "These are always the most difficult."

<<>><<>><<>>

An uncomfortable silence had settled down over the few inhabitants of the library.

After the princesses had left to deal with Lyra, the others also left one after the other.

Applejack was the first to leave, in a hurry too, as she rushed back home to make sure her sister was still doing fine, and to take her to school under her watchful eye.

Much for the same reason, Rarity left, taking her 'sister' with her as she led her to school; keeping her pace slow to allow Sweetie Belle to keep up with her injured leg.

Next was Pinkie Pie, whose mane was noticeably limp, worrying all despite her claims that everything was Okie Dokie Lokie.

And finally, Fluttershy and Rainbow Dash left together; the latter accompanied her friend back home so she wouldn't be too frightened.

Now mostly alone together, the sole exception being Spike who had sulked back upstairs to return his board game, Danny and Twilight sat next to each other on the couch.

Danny, slumped down, head lying on the backrest, stared at the ceiling as he released a tense sigh but remained otherwise quiet.

Twilight, far tenser than Danny, nervously flicked her tail as she mulled over everything that had happened in such a short time, while also putting in perspective all her interaction with Princess Celestia over the years.

She, too, released a tense sigh.

"So," Danny started. "About that calm and boring day, we agreed upon this morning? Can't say we're off to a good start."

Twilight seemed to deflate upon his words, sinking into cushions.

"No. No, we're not," she agreed. "The ghosts were bad enough, but now Discord. And after everything you pointed out with Princess Celestia… I just don't know what to make of it anymore."

"Yeah…" Danny snorted. "About that. Who even is Discord? I get he's a reality-bending jerk, and I had some one on one time with the guy, but seriously… Who is he? What even is he? What is the story behind him?"

"Honestly, I don't know. There is little known about where he came from, and even less about why he does what he does. What we do know is what is told by the princesses. They both fought him over a thousand years ago, only able to defeat him with the power of the Elements… Which, as it turns out, no longer have much of an effect on him…. Nor are they any longer complete, meaning any help they could have been, is lost to us now as well."

"So millennia plus old overpowered guy with shady past and origin, and the only credible source of info being the two mares who fought him back then; one of whom has proven to be a less than reliable source of wisdom. Does that sum it up?"

Twilight opened and closed her mouth several times, face contorting with several expressions before she sighed deeply, head hanging.

"Pretty much, yes."

"Wonderful," Danny muttered with as much sarcasm as he could.

"... I really hope things are not as bad as we fear them to be, but the way things are now it's really hard not to think this is a prelude for something much worse still to come."

"I know the feeling all too well."

An uncomfortable silence settled over the two, with only the muffled sounds of Spike above putting back the game he tried so hard to find to provide some distraction.

"Alright… Gotta ask," Danny said suddenly. "What about the bed?"

"Eh… bed?" Twilight faltered, confused.

Danny gave a nod towards her bedroom.

"Can't say I'm an expert, but I'm pretty sure it wasn't made to fit a grown human like me before Discord did what he did." A blush quickly began to turn Twilight's face a deep crimson. "Nor did he turn it back, as far as I know. So, more out of curiosity than anything else, what about the bed?"

"Ah, yes. Ahum," she quickly turned away to hide her flushed cheeks. "I don't know, really. Though with Discord having done… that, I won't step back in there without worrying it is some kind of trap or another," she sighed tiredly. "Which means I also need to buy a new bed," she added in sudden realization.

"... I could move to the couch if you need the guest bed," Danny was quick to offer.

"Absolutely not!" Twilight protested. "I'll just go and buy a new bed today, and have the one Discord altered destroyed."

"Fair enough."

Some ruckus came from above, and both Twilight and Danny turned to the stairs as Spike slowly descended; muttering to himself while clapping some dust off of his hands.

"Is everything alright, Spike?" Asked Twilight.

Spike slowed down as he looked at her. "Top shelf. No ladder. No help."

Twilight flinched back, looking sheepishly apologetic.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Spike. With everything going on right now-"

"I know. I know," he sighed, shoulders sagging. "Still, it would be nice if everypony would think about the little guys around here every now and then."

"You know you could have asked for help from the tall guy around here, right?" Danny remarked matter of factly.

"I, eh…"

"Never thought about that, didn't ya?"

"But- but you were abducted by ghosts and Discord, all on the same day. There was a guard watching you and everything."

"True," Danny nodded.

"So, ehh… I could not just go and ask you to help after all of that."

"Fair enough," Danny shrugged. "Still, just saying."

"Why don't we change the subject?" Twilight suggested. "Spike, seeing how I need to go to town and buy a new bed, why don't you and Danny come along. I'll even buy you your favorite ice cream as a thank you for all your hard work."

"Now that's more like it," Spike lit up with excitement. "But… What about your old bed?"

Twilight snorted. "After Discord messed with it, I'm not touching it with a fifty-foot pole. It has to be destroyed."

"Makes sense," he replied, walking the last few steps down the stairs.

"Question," Danny said. "Why am I going along as well?"

"What do you mean?" Twilight turned to him, confused. "After what happened, you can't just stay here, alone. What if something were to happen to you again?"

"I can take care of myself, you know," Danny crossed his arms.

"Obviously," Spike agreed with him.

"I'm not denying that," said Twilight, "but what kind of friend would I be if I didn't try to watch out for you?"

Danny opened his mouth, paused, blinked, then slowly closed his mouth again.

"Got me there," he admitted.

"So why don't we try to salvage what we can of the day and not have any other crazy thing happen to us?"

Danny couldn't help but flinch, and his and Spike's eyes locked for a moment; both clearly thinking the same.

"Why do I feel like saying that out loud is just asking for trouble to come our way?" Danny responded.

"Danny's right, Twilight. That's like saying: What's the worst that could happen?"

Now Twilight flinched, and she gave a sheepish grin at the two of them.

"Right, sorry. No need to tempt fate any more than it already has been, right?"

"Right," Danny nodded. "Just some shopping, nothing more."

"Right," Twilight agreed.

"And ice cream," Danny added.

"Can't forget about that, yes."

"No need for this to become weird in any way."

"No."

"Just you, me, and Spike, out shopping."

"Yes."

"Sounds like a plan."

"A perfectly normal plan."

"Yes."

"... You guys are acting weird," Spike said, looking at the two weirdly.

"Yes, perfectly normal in every way possible," Danny gave a nod.

"Just the tw- three of us, shopping. Nothing weird about that," Twilight said with a slight stammer, blushing faintly.

"Are all adults this weird?" Spike asked.

"Yes," Twilight answered. "Perfectly normal."

With a groan, Spike facepalmed.

<<>><<>><<>>

Some time had passed since Danny discovered Bon Bon's secret, and found the life books of Spring Breeze and Apple Pie. And now, flying past the outskirts of town under the cover of invisibility, he made his way to Sweet Apple Acres with both lifebooks held under an arm.

After some consideration, he decided it would be best to give Apple Bloom her book first, and the best way to do this would be to hide it somewhere where she could easily acquire it without too much suspicion.

The thought occurred that he could give the book to Devora, who could give it to Apple Bloom, but Rarity wouldn't let her out of her sight for more than a moment. Besides, it would be difficult for her to hide the book on the way to school.

On the subject of school, Danny spent a good moment trying to figure out why any of them would even consider sending the fillies back so shortly after being 'abducted' and 'saved' from ghosts.

He did ask. Or, his double still in the library asked. The answer he got from Twilight left a bitter taste in his mouth: "If we don't, the ghosts have won."

While glad to see she, and in extent, the others took his advice to heart, it still left him wondering. Not showing fear is one thing, but this seemed just unnecessarily reckless. And that was not even taking the new development with Discord into account.

Then again, back in Amity Park people also seem to shrug off most of anything, ghost-related, unless it was affecting them immediately.

Either way, it did provide him with the possibility to get Apple Pie's lifebook to Apple Bloom, so he just shrugged and moved on. Though not without wondering how this could become a potential disaster waiting to bite him in the ass.

As for his plan, it was as simple as he could make it. Hide the book in the filly's treehouse where it couldn't be easily found by others, have his double inform Devora where to find it and what it is, then hope this actually goes down without anything going wrong.

At least the book itself added a layer of security to this plan by being completely blank should anyone else but Apple Bloom try to read it. Except of course any other Apples, Pinkie Pie, or potentially Maud. He really hoped it wouldn't come to that. Not until it was safe for him for them to read it and discover a terrible truth.

Maybe he should stay and watch just to be on the safe side?

Focusing his thoughts, he passed the school at the same time he heard a couple of young voices, and a few older voices shushing the younger.

Slowing down, he looked at the dirt path leading to town, seeing a small group of ponies approach; four foals and three adults. One of the adults was a purple mare with a two-toned pink mane he recognized as Cheerilee, the school's teacher.

"Guess school's about to start, huh," he remarked, watching as they drew closer.

Not feeling like sticking around and trying his luck, he quickly resumed his flight and reached the orchard several minutes later.

Again he saw a couple of ponies move to the school. This time he knew all of them, with Apple Bloom walking between Big Mac and Applejack; the latter showing obvious signs of having rushed back home from Twilight's place so she could be present to escort her younger sibling.

Watching the trio leave, he made his way over to the treehouse and the still scorched trees.

Phasing through the roof of the fillies' clubhouse, he looked around for a suitable spot to hide the book.

Now with the fillies' previous attempts at earning their Cutie Marks, using all kinds of tools and items in their quest, finding a suitable hiding spot was not too difficult. Most of said items were all haphazardly pushed inside a large storage chest, and anything too large to fit was shoved in a corner of the room.

But just putting Apple Pie's lifebook amidst a pile of rubble didn't feel right to Danny, even though he knew Apple Pie would have laughed about it had she known.

But all haphazardly stored junk aside, there was one corner of the clubhouse that was relatively free of such chaos. The fillies' planning area; a desk with two drawers underneath, placed against a wall, covered with crayon drawn plans for their Cutie Mark crusades.

Only for a second did Danny stop to wonder why one of those plans involved a hydra, several rolls of sticky tape, a ruler, a fishing pole, and corn on the cob.

Then he remembered what they did for their ghost hunting Cutie Mark, and the mess they got themselves into because of it.

"Those fillies have too much free time," he murmured.

Drifting over to the desk, he pulled open the left drawer. Finding several scissors, rolls of tape, paper, crayons, markers, a rainbow-colored wig, a cob of corn, and a few miscellaneous items, he carefully pushed the stuff aside to make room for the book, then shifted some of the stuff back over it.

"Not perfect, but it will have to do," he said, closing the drawer after taking the corn with him.

A quick flight back to town, stopping for a moment to throw the cob in some bushes, he then made his way to Bon Bon's candy store.

Phasing through the structure, he soon found himself in Bon Bon's secret basement room.

Dropping to the floor, he walked to the table and the various files detailing him, his life, and anything ghost-related were still lying on it.

Frowning, he shifted through the contents a bit just to get a better understanding of what it was she, and to an extent Celestia, already knew.

"Mostly loose ends and unreliable accounts of hysterical witnesses. Some stuff of those Ghost-Keteers. Nothing conclusive… yet. Though if this is what they already have, and considering Maud as well…"

Returning the files as best as he could to their proper place, he placed Spring Breeze's lifebook on top of them.

Looking around, he found a pencil on a nearby shelf, and an empty scroll as well.

Ripping the parchment in half, he quickly wrote a note on both. Then, folding them double, he put one between the last page and back cover, and the other on top of the book.

"Just hope this will be enough," he murmured as he flew back up, leaving the room hidden underneath the candy shop behind.

<<>><<>><<>>

A murmur of voices with various levels of excitement flowed out of the school's only classroom while, outside, Cheerilee spoke with the parents and legal guardians of the foals under her care.

Of course, recent events were hard to ignore, and everypony needed some kind of reassurance their foals would be safe, and Cheerilee did the best she could to provide these reassurances, with various levels of success, depending on whose parent she had to talk to directly.

As for the foals themselves, they all reacted to the recent developments in various ways befitting of their personalities mixed with a childlike naivety. With Snips and Snails barely acknowledging anything even happened, and animatedly discussing the intricate details of their pet rocks' lives, while Pipsqueak and his friends were shooting back and forth one crazy conspiracy after the other, gradually becoming more and more ludicrous as they continued.

In the front of the class was Silver Spoon, sitting still and quiet, looking at the board while she, quite surprising to most had they actually paid attention to this instead of the recent ghostly activity currently demanding attention, sat just a bit further away from her friend than normal.

Speaking of her friend, sitting somewhat hunched forward, Diamond Tiara showed the image of disinterest in anything around her while glaring daggers at Silver Spoon, Sweetie Belle, Apple Bloom, and Scootaloo whenever nopony was looking.

As for the three fillies her ire was aimed at the most, they quietly talked with one another while Devora looked around the room with confusion and suspicion; her gaze drifting over to Diamond Tiara regularly whenever she felt the telltale jab of anger every time she glared at her.

This was one to keep an eye on.

Right now though, there were other matters to deal with.

"Ya mean Danny left a book fer me back in tha clubhouse?" Asked Apple Bloom, her voice mixing with the drone of the others talking.

"That's what I said, yes," Devora replied flatly.

"What's it about?" Scootaloo butted in.

"How would I know?"

"You talked to him," Scootaloo argued.

"He only told me where he put the thing. Didn't have much chance or time to say anything more. Too many eyes on us."

"Ah guess Ah'll find out after school," said Apple Bloom.

"Yes. About that. What are they teaching here?" asked Devora.

"Eh, a little bit of this. A little bit of that," Scootaloo shrugged. "Never paid much attention to it."

Devora was about to reply when a hoof pounding on the floor drew every pony's attention.

"Okay class," said Cheerilee, standing before the chalkboard. "I know that a lot of frightening things have happened. To some more than others," she briefly glanced at Apple Bloom, Scootaloo, and Sweetie Belle, "and it is understandable you're all feeling the need to talk about this. But please, don't all shout over one another."

Several hooves were raised by the foals.

"And of course you all have a lot of questions. So why don't we start today by talking about what has happened and putting your worries to rest."

"What kind of ghost did Bulk Biceps see?" Snips half-shouted without waiting.

"I heard it was a massive ghost with six heads that tried to eat him!" Button Mash called out.

"No, it wasn't!" Featherweight countered. "It was a bird-like specter that tried to capture Bulk Biceps and take him back to its nest."

"Really?" Gasped Peach Fuzz.

"Now, class. Please don't say things that aren't true," Cheerilee called out, but her words fell on deaf ears as more and more wild fantasies were brought forth.

"And welcome to Ponyville's school," Scootaloo groaned quietly, hoof pressed against her face while Devora could only look and listen in bewilderment as, once again, the ponies around her began to talk, then shout over one another.

"Is this normal?" She asked, the shouting masking her question quite well.

"Pretty much, yeah," Apple Bloom confirmed.

"... You ponies are weird."

"Never said we weren't," Scootaloo replied. "So better get used to it, ‘cause there is still more to come."

"That's what worries me," Devora sighed, then felt another jab of emotion coming from the pink filly upfront. "A lot."

<<>><<>><<>>

Sitting completely motionless, eyes closed, Bon Bon fought every urge to groan, facehoof, strangle Lyra, or an unholy combination of the three as both Princess Celestia and Princess Luna brought judgment down on the mint green unicorn at the center of attention.

It didn't help in the slightest that this center was also covered with all of Lyra's notes. Or, as they were called now, incriminating evidence.

Evidence which was now skimmed through by both princesses, before being collected by the two guards with them.

"It would seem this is not a minor obsession as I previously believed it to be," Princess Celestia spoke as she deposited a note on the growing pile, instantly grabbing another. "Intruding into the privacy of mister Manson in such a way; making notes of all he does."

"It does almost warrant a compliment with how extensive these notes are," Princess Luna commented. "Almost."

"Yet the extent of it all borders on the fanatic," putting all the notes she held in her magic down, Princess Celestia looked down on Lyra. "Lyra Heartstrings, the worrying amount of notes you've made during the short time mister Manson has been in Ponyville is nothing short of disturbing. And to go through them all in detail will take more time than my sister and I can spare as of now. And with no proper place to incarcerate you until such time found within Ponyville, I have no other choice than to have you taken to Canterlot for the duration of the investigation into this matter."

"Wha- But- I mean- You- I-"

"Lyra, please, just shut up," Bon Bon groaned.

"Lyra Heartstrings," Princess Celestia spoke with full authority. "You are hereby under arrest for the unlawful intrusion into the personal life of Danny Manson. You have the right to an attorney, which I suggest you take. And know that everything you say can, and will be used in this investigation."

Lyra's pupils had by now shrunken to pinpricks while she started to hyper-ventilate.

"Princess Luna," Princess Celestia turned to her sister. "Could you please take Miss Heartstrings to Canterlot while I take care of matters here?"

"Very well," Princess Luna replied with cold detachment.

A moment later she and Lyra vanished in a burst of magic.

"Guards, secure all evidence and have it prepared for transport to Canterlot."

"Yes your majesty," both guards confirmed.

"As for you, miss Bon Bon. Is there a place where we may talk, privately?"

"Y- yes, the kitchen."

"Please, lead the way."

Leaving the guards behind as they collected the notes still scattered around, Princess Celestia and Bon Bon entered the kitchen.

No sooner had the door closed, Celestia cast a spell to soundproof the room.

"We can speak freely here," she said. "And I would like to know how this was allowed to continue for as long as it has, agent Sweetie Drops."

"I honestly have no idea, Princess," Sweetie Drops sighed, shaking her head. "Lyra did have a fascination with humans ever since the first tear opened. And in all that time since then, she has kept tabs on just about everything related to humans… But only humans. Which was fine, if a bit annoying every now and then. We all need a hobby after all. But when Danny came to Ponyville, and when it became known he would live here things quickly spiraled out of control, despite my best efforts to keep her out of trouble. And, well… You have seen the result."

"So I have," Princess Celestia said humorlessly. "And while this is a gross invasion of privacy, under the circumstances it may be a lucky break as well."

"I know what you are thinking, Princess. And all hypocrisy aside, very little of what Lyra has written down is useful to us. I can tell. I had to sit through an entire lecture of her findings, and most are warped by biased opinions. Though at the least it does provide a somewhat accurate timeline of Danny Manson's whereabouts in Ponyville, with only a few discrepancies that drew some minor attention. Though their context is mostly missing, or misunderstood by Lyra and thus can't really be linked with anything relating to the ghost sightings."

"I see," Princess Celestia said. "Even so, I will have others go through these notes. Perhaps some new insight can be found when more information becomes available. And speaking of which, has your own investigation revealed anything yet?"

"No, Princess. My own investigation started this morning, shortly before you and your sister arrived. I searched Danny Manson's house while he was away, but found nothing other than what one would expect of a recently occupied residence. Very little in terms of personal effects. Though there was a clear sign of some kind of struggle, consistent with the reported encounter of a ghost and the Ghost-Keteers."

"So much remains shrouded in mystery," Celestia hummed. "And about his personal effects? Little as they may be, was there anything you could deduce from them?"

"I'm afraid not. In fact, the only items I could find were his clothes, and all were brand new. Made by Rarity, in fact."

"You mean he brought nothing with him? No photos of friends or family? No mementos of his former home? Anything?"

"Nothing I could find on short notice, no. Which, admittedly, is strange. Though I have yet to start an in-depth investigation. And mister Manson did have a rather… busy schedule ever since he arrived here. It may be possible that any belongings he took with him are still waiting to be unpacked."

"Maybe, but still…"

"Princess," Sweetie Drops began, hesitating a moment. "I understand the investigation takes priority, but Lyra… I can't just ignore this either."

"I understand this is a difficult situation for you. However, you knew the risks involved by engaging in a romantic relationship despite your situation, and the life you live because of it. The fact that Miss Heartstrings is taken into custody does not change the situation, and you have one advantage over any other agent that makes you ideal for this operation; you are from around here, and as such can move around without drawing the kind of attention a stranger would."

"I… I understand, Princess," Sweetie Drops said, pushing her own feelings about the matter behind a facade of professionalism.

"As for Miss Heartstrings. Due to the overwhelming evidence, and being caught in the act of stalking mister Manson, she will be incarcerated pending the investigation. And she will be limited in the ponies she is allowed to see during this time."

"I… of course, Princess."

"I do believe that would be all, unless you have anything more to add."

"No Princess."

"Very well," with a flash of her horn, the spell Celestia had cast dispersed.

Opening the door, Celestia returned to her guards who, having finished their task, stood at the ready beside a sizable stack of papers.

"Miss Bon Bon," she looked at the mare behind her. "I do want you to know I regret the recent course of events. But I cannot in good conscience ignore what has happened here. I hope you understand this."

"I do, Princess," Bon Bon said, eyes downcast.

"Very well," Princess Celestia turned to the guards. "Ready yourselves for a long-distance teleportation."

"Princess," both guards stood straight.

A moment later, they, the notes, and Princess Celestia vanished in a flash of golden light, leaving behind Bon Bon in a now far too empty, far too quiet house.

For several minutes Bon Bon stood motionless, not making a sound. But then, with a heavy, heartfelt sigh, she turned to look at a framed picture on the wall depicting herself and Lyra; leaning into each other while smiling at the camera during their vacation several years ago.

The couple's joyful smiles as they stood on a white beach, both wearing wide-brimmed straw hats, enjoying life without a care in the world, a distant dream as the troubled reflection of Bon Bon gleamed in the glass.

Of course, the princess was right. She always was. She chose to allow Lyra into her heart, despite the life she lived. And now, in ways she couldn't have foreseen but should have expected nonetheless, somehow Lyra was facing charges for a crime they both committed.

The only difference was that she, Bon Bon, was ordered to do so.

The hypocrisy made her feel sick.

Her ear twitched as she became aware of the voices outside.

Already a small number of ponies had gathered and were discussing what they saw, what they thought they saw, and why they saw what they thought they saw.

Already, the rumor mill was working at full power.

With another sigh, she tore herself away from the framed picture. There was still work to be done, and as much as she loathed to do so, she would still do it.

She had to.

And as the ponies outside continued to twist and turn the stories they had just heard a moment ago, nopony noticed the shamefaced mare as she left through the backdoor.

<<>><<>><<>>

Seated behind a table covered with numerous devices, a laptop, a half-full mug of coffee, and an almost empty can of the dark brew, Tucker stared intently at the numbers and values scrolling down the screen as his laptop ran a diagnostic on one of the scanners connected with it.

With a ding his system displayed an alert, and for a moment Tucker looked at the screen, then slumped back in his seat with a deep sigh.

"The same thing again?" Asked the light gray unicorn mare next to him.

"I'm afraid so, Technal," Tucker groaned as he pulled off his barrette and combed a hand through his short hair.

"System check complete. All systems pass," Technal read the prompt displayed on the screen.

"As far as I and my system can tell, there is nothing wrong with these devices. Not even those modified by the Ghost-Keteers out in the field. Yet everything I was told and read in the report indicates this is not the case. So obviously I'm missing something."

Absent-mindedly he grabbed his mug and drained its contents, then grimaced at the cold coffee.

Putting the mug back with a grunt, he leaned back into his chair.

"So far I have ruled out internal malfunctions, both hardware, and software. Which means there could be a more severe problem hidden within the code that would cause this to happen. However, considering that the equipment back home runs on the same software, and it does not have these problems we can almost certainly rule out a programming error."

"However, these devices have been modified to some extent so we ponies can use them. Maybe the problem lies there?" Technal suggested.

"I doubt it," Tucker said, scratching at his jaw. "There were modifications to the casing and some of the buttons to make it easier to hold and manipulate the devices with hooves, but nothing that would warrant a complete redesign. A functional cosmetic alteration that did not change anything about the inner workings," he paused mid scratch. "Except one."

"Which is?"

"Magic," he replied as he looked for, found, then grabbed his backpack. "We had to modify the sensors in all equipment to recognize the magic of you, ponies. This is so it wouldn't cause a false positive as the system got confused, and instead ignore the energy signatures you all emit. But this was as new to us as this technology was to you," he pulled a small triangular device out of his bag, two folded antennas on its top. "I bet the fault can be found there," he said, placing the device on the table, raising both antennas, then connected the device with his laptop and opened the appropriate program.

Several minutes passed as his fingers danced over the keyboard, then the device beeped to life; three LEDs flashing intermittently, two red, one green.

Eventually, only the green led gave light.

"Okay, the magical background field this world has is reading as expected. No strange deviations there."

"Incredible," Technal said, awed, looking at the device with large eyes. "Studying the background field would take several highly skilled mages working together, yet you do it with this little device and a few button presses."

"It really is not all that impressive, honestly," Tucker said somewhat dismissively, still looking at the screen. "Magic, as incredible as it is, is at its basis a form of energy. Spectral energy is, as the name implies, also energy. So is electricity, or nuclear decay. And all have their own structure and signature. The trick is picking up on these variations and differentiating between them… Which is where things may have gone wrong."

"It is more impressive than you say it is," Technal shook her head. "To do those things, to understand them, not everypony, not every human can do that. And it certainly does not come as easy to others as it does to you."

Tucker paused, blinked, then looked away from his screen.

"That… Yeah, can't really argue with that," he had to admit. "These things have always been easy for me, huh."

"That's what impresses me so. You do these things as if it is nothing, while everypony else can only stare and wonder how you do it."

Tucker chuckled at that. "Yeah, sounds familiar," he grinned at the memories this brought back.

Shaking his head, he refocused on the problem at hand.

"But getting back on topic. As I said, the background field is consistent with the previous reading, meaning the issue may be found in the personal field each and every pony emits," he typed on his keyboard. "Okay, I'm going to need your help here for a bit. Could you cast some magic on this detector? Anything will do."

"Of course," Technal happily complied, and a moment later a magical aura encased the detector.

"Okay, let's see what we're working with here," Tucker hummed, watching the program run its analysis. "This will take a few minutes to get a proper reading. That won't be a problem, right?"

"Please, this is nothing," Technal waved him off.

"Okay… While we wait, may I ask how things are going over at the tear facility? The last time I was there, without just passing through in a hurry, it was a bit of a mess."

"Don't remind me," Technal replied bitterly. "That ghost did a lot of damage, as you saw yourself. Luckily nothing like it has happened there since, but… Well, you know. We are here right now for a reason."

"Ain't that the truth."

"But besides all of that, the repairs have almost all been completed. Mostly cosmetic stuff that still needs to be finished. Everything else is already up and running, as you must have noticed when going through the scanner."

"I have to admit, repairs have happened remarkably fast. Though considering the tear leads to your capital, that was to be expected. Especially in light of recent events."

Ding

"Ah, let's see what we've got here," Tucker said after the program notified its completion of the scan. "You can stop with the magic, by the way."

Intrigued, Technal moved closer to his side to better see the results herself as well while her horn stopped glowing.

"What does it say?"

"Hmmm," Tucker didn't answer immediately, scrolling through the list of readouts instead. "Ah, look here," he tapped a finger against the screen. "This is a graph showing the values of the ambient background field. And this is one of your magical signatures. Overlaying the two, there are some minute differences."

"Well, yes. That should be as expected," Technal commented as she looked at the graphs. "The ambient field is mostly uniform, with very little fluctuations unlike that of magic-using creatures, where the amount of magic used causes variations. Though there are some known areas where the field isn't always uniform."

"Wait, what do you mean with that?"

"With what?"

"With the field not always being uniform."

"Well, I don't know much about it. I'm not a mage in that sense of the word, but everypony either learns or hears about it from others that sometimes, in certain areas the field is either stronger, or weaker. No pony knows why this is, though."

"... It would have been really useful if I had known this earlier," Tucker remarked, voice flat as he eyed the various devices he had already worked on.

"Huh, why?"

"Technal, all these devices have been calibrated to ignore the magic field using a set baseline of a uniform field. And now you say the field is not always uniform. You do see the problem here, right?"

Silence.

"Thought so," Tucker shook his head. "Which also means any and all readings you have found could be wrongly interpreted by the scanners, depending on the field. Meaning false positives or ignored signatures mixed in with accurate scans."

Technal's pupils had shrunk to pinpricks as the full ramifications came through.

"I'm going to need a detailed account of all known fluctuations in the background field. Now!" He shot at her.

Technal shot into motion, leaving the room in a full out gallop, leaving Tucker to sigh and shake his head as he looked at the screen.

"Who knows what may have slipped through because of this?" He wondered. 'And is it the reason you are doing what you're doing as well, Danny?'

<<>><<>><<>>

Hanging unseen on the ceiling of the tear facility, Vlad's command and relay drone received new data from the drones under its control.

Minutes passed as all information was received, compressed, and stored; waiting for the next window of transmission while it observed the creatures down below; studying their behavior, their patterns, and everything else of interest within its set parameters.

Eventually, the tear opened again, and it quietly dropped from the ceiling, unfolded its mechanical wings, and, with a whisper-quiet buzz, flew through.

Immediately it began to transmit its stored data while the humans and creatures of the other world down below slowly moved through to one side or the other.

A ping came, informing the drone the transmitted data was received.

Flying back through the tear, the small machine returned to its spot on the ceiling, deleted the data from its limited memory, and resumed its task of watching, waiting and collecting information.

<<>><<>><<>>

"Vlad dear," the cheerful voice of Madeline Fenton called out as her holographic representation materialized into being. "New data from the Equestria-located drones has been received."

"Hmm," Vlad Masters hummed, standing before a window in the small but lavishly decorated apartment, watching the proceedings of repairs of his mansion with his hands on his back. "Anything of interest?"

"Several drones have found numerous traces of subject Danny. A good number of these drones have also found several strong signatures of the native equine showing spectral energy readings, placing both together."

"So he has found this creature," Vlad said with frustration.

"Additionally. Numerous drones have reported subject Danny to be present on numerous locations at the same time, though with a reduced signature."

"He WHAT!?" Vlad shouted, turning to face holo-Maddie. "Did he manage to master his duplication?"

"Unknown, but highly probable."

Vlad stepped away from the window and towards his computer, typing in his password and accessing the collection of files.

"Show me," he instructed.

"Yes, dear," holo-Maddie lifted a hand, and several of the on-screen files opened simultaneously. "As you can see here, here, here and here, subject Danny was detected by the listed drones, with either minute differences between timestamps, or none at all. Overlaying these recorded positions on the recorded topography, the distance between all detections is clearly too great for him to have been present at all locations simultaneously. At present, ruling out any drone malfunction, it is most likely that subject Danny has either partially, or fully mastered his duplication. And going with the data available to us at the time, subject Danny appears to be able to duplicate himself at least four to five times."

"Blasted," Vlad slammed a fist on the desk. "For years he managed to slip away, hiding like the pathetic fool he is for his guilt over Samantha's death. To think he would use this time to master his abilities. Who knows what else he has learned in these years? This could become a problem should he decide to stop hiding," he leaned heavily on his desk.

"There is more, oh future ruler of the world," holo-Maddie informed him cheerfully as she opened another file. "Here is the report from a collection of drones that detected subject Danny's presence in an untamed forest, accompanied by a massive signature of spectral origin. It is unclear if this signature is from one spectral entity or multiple as the drones scanners were overwhelmed to the point subject Danny could barely be detected."

"This reading," Vlad muttered, grabbing the mouse and slowly scrolling through the listed data. "It's immense. There is no possible way this is just one ghost… Unless…" he quickly opened an old file, and the well studied but never understood recording of Danny as he… changed seconds after Sam's death was displayed.

"It is unlikely this new reading is related to subject Danny's demonstrated energy burst recorded seven years ago," holo-Maddie told him. "The archived event shows subject Danny's energy signature, and only his, contradictory with what was recorded now."

"True," Vlad relaxed slightly, sitting down in his desk chair. "So, not another occurrence of… that," he looked at the still image of Danny, unable to suppress a shudder traveling down his spine. "Meaning this reading must indicate a group of ghosts with similar ectoplasmic signatures for them to blend together."

"Which would contradict the notion that there are no ghosts of any noteworthy numbers on the ponies' world."

"True. But what do those mutant horses even know about these things?" Vlad sneered, leaning back. "So, Danny. What is it you are doing, I wonder? Mastering your powers. Large numbers of ghosts. Interacting with a ghost pony. Questions, questions, and so few answers," he steepled his fingers together as he thought.

"Perhaps this last recording may provide some more information," holo-Maddie opened a video player, and the image of Tucker and Dani, the latter lying in a hospital bed and her head bandaged, was revealed.

With another hand gesture, the video began to play, and Vlad watched with large eyes and a wicked grin.

<<>><<>><<>>

"Just kill me now and end this suffering," Jazz struggled as she lay splayed out on the ground, puffing and panting while drenched in sweat.

"Oh stop being a drama queen and just finish your sit-ups," Valerie grunted with annoyance.

"I already did a hundred!"

"Thirty-eight," Valerie countered, voice flat, but with a subtle undertone of displeasure, "of one hundred. You're not even halfway there. So you better start moving again. NOW!"

With a strangled cry, tears in her eyes, and a building pressure to throw up, Jazz forced her tortured body back into motion while Valerie loomed over her, slowly counting up; or not at all if she deemed Jazz' struggling attempts to be insufficient to be worth noting.

For many gruesome long minutes, where every minute seemed to last forever, Jazz forced herself to move; every motion becoming more and more difficult, with no end in sight.

Had she had a moment of clear thought, her analytical mind would have worked overtime to unravel the mess of events that had led her here. As it was, all it could do was scream at her for the absolute torture she was inflicting upon herself.

But with Valerie still glaring down upon her, she ignored the screams of her body, until it would no longer be ignored.

With a retch, Jazz quickly rolled over as her stomach emptied itself.

Gasping, panting, and spitting the foul bile from her mouth, Jazz could feel her body give out and, with what little strength she had left, she pushed herself away from the sick on the ground; flopping down on a clean spot directly next to it as she sucked in as much air as she could in great heaves, eyes clenched shut.

"Not bad," Valerie commented, sitting down beside Jazz. "You managed to get much farther than I thought you would before you would pop."

Jazz didn't answer, too busy focusing on not dying.

"Heh, do I recognize that look," Valerie chuckled half-heartedly. "Here," she offered a bottle of water. "Use it to rinse your mouth. If you need to drink, take small sips or your stomach will cramp up."

Weakly, Jazz accepted the offered bottle. Struggling to push herself in a half seated position, she quickly washed her mouth; spitting the water next to the sick, then she flopped down again, chest heaving.

"Just know, this was the most difficult day," said Valerie. "Not to say tomorrow is going to be easy. Your muscles will be sore as hell, and it will be a real challenge for you to move. But taking the first step is always the hardest. Now you just need to keep moving, and I won't let you stop. And you will notice, after the first week, things will begin to come easier to you. Just a tiny bit."

"I- gha- I hate you," Jazz managed to wheeze.

"Good, use that anger. It'll help with what's to come because you still need to do nineteen more sit-ups."

With no energy left to scream, Jazz settled for a disheartened groan while her stomach churned in protest.

"Try to look at it from the bright side," Valerie said.

"What bright side?" Jazz grunted, latching on any opportunity to postpone her torture.

"You've got a friend helping you out. I had to do this all by myself."

"It shows."

"Alright then, miss sunshine," Valerie stood back up, crossing her arms, smirking ever so slightly. "Start moving!"

"Noooooo," Jazz weakly cried to the heavens as she forced her battered body to move once more.

<<>><<>><<>>

Soarin stood at attention amidst his peers; most of the survivors of Baltimare, some of them combat-hardened soldiers from other fights.

None of the recruits were present, an indication of just how serious this was, and a tense silence hung over the gathered Wonderbolts as, standing on a podium before them, scanning the stallions and mares at attention was their commanding officer Fluffy Cloud.

Calling her by that name though is a right reserved only for her family and close friends. Anypony else who tried would soon find out there was nothing fluffy about her ire, and all would refer to her as Commander Cloud

"Soldiers," she called out with a booming voice. "As you all know, I am not one known for jokes and long explanations, so I will keep this as simple as possible. Effective immediately, we are in a state of emergency and are expected to deploy the moment the word comes through. All planned time off, routine exercises, and shows are hereby canceled until further notice. The reason for this is a sudden increase of ghost-related sightings and attacks, two of which have occurred in Canterlot; one of which within the castle of the royal sisters themselves."

Despite their rigid posture, a ripple moved through the gathered ponies.

"I need not tell you just how massive a breach of security this is," Commander Cloud let that hang for a moment. "Now, past encounters with ghosts have taught us much when it comes to direct confrontation with these entities, and as such, the order has been given to avoid direct confrontation unless absolutely necessary. Our first priority will be in the evacuation of civilians and, to lure any and all spectral entities away from any gathering of civilians to aid in the evacuation. Any and all attempts to subdue and, or otherwise incapacitate any spectral threat is forbidden unless this would jeopardize the lives of civilians. Otherwise, we are to aid specialized teams of trained ghost hunters, known as the Ghost-Keteers, to neutralize this threat, and will refer to their tactical command. Is this understood?!"

"Sir, yes sir," all confirmed without hesitation.

"Now, I know most of you here have first hoof experience when it comes to ghosts; none of it good, and you either have the scars, or know those who have them to prove it. So I will make myself as clear on this as I possibly can. We are here to serve and protect, NOT to seek out a chance for any form of vengeance. DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR!?"

"Sir, yes sir." A chorus of confirmations was the response.

"Sir," Spitfire called out in the split second of silence, drawing the steel glare of her commanding officer to her. A glare she returned with one of her own. "Permission to ask what kind of ghosts have been sighted, sir?"

"That information is, as of yet, classified," commander Cloud replied after a short, tense silence. "Investigations are still being carried out, and any and all known details are on a need-to-know basis."

Spitfire gave a stoic nod in understanding, but Soarin could see she was very displeased with this.

"However," commander Cloud continued, "there is one thing that was discovered after the recent intrusion in the royal sisters' their castle that requires immediate action. The full circumstances surrounding this are still unknown to us, but the ghosts seem to have some interest in the changelings. The few prisoners captured after their invasion of Canterlot were taken from their cells. Whether this means the ghosts are working together with them, or have some other use for them is not known. But we must assume the worst. Which means that, besides all previously announced changes, all of us will be subjected to a daily inspection to confirm that we are who we claim to be. Additionally, nopony is to be alone at any time. Anypony found alone without explicit orders to do so will be suspected of either spectral or changeling possession."

"Sir, yes sir"

Commander Cloud gave a single nod of approval.

"Return to the barracks and prepare for training. We will be ready for when the call comes; we will show these ghosts who exactly it is they chose to mess with and most important above all. We will NOT let another Baltimare happen again. IS THIS UNDERSTOOD?!"

"SIR, YES SIR!"

<<>><<>><<>>

With some reluctance, Bon Bon had made her way back to her candy store and the vile secret hidden underneath. Forcing herself not to drag her hooves, she entered through the front door, made sure the sign read closed, then locked the door behind her as she stood alone in the storefront; tantalizingly sweet smells coming from the numerous bright-colored candies on display, eagerly waiting to carve a hole in the sweet tooth of foal and adult alike.

To Bon Bon however, the smells just made her feel sick.

With a sigh and downcast look, she slowly made her way to the storage room. Leaving behind the mare she pretended to be as she descended down into the basement.

Standing before the illusory wall, she unlocked the mechanism that prevented anyone access and stepped inside; the wall returning moments later.

Shaking her head, Sweetie Drops moved to the table where she had left the reports and observational notes she had made; coming to a dead stop at the sight of an unknown book, and a folded piece of parchment lying on top.

Numerous alarm bells went off, and she quickly scanned the area for any sign of intruders, then jumped into the adjacent room, ready for anything and everyone jumping at her.

When nothing happened, she carefully scanned the room for any kind of disturbance; quickly spotting the drawer in which she kept the enchanted emerald to hide her curse standing slightly open.

Slowly she moved to the desk and carefully opened the drawer, expecting some kind of trap waiting there for her.

Again, nothing happened. And she found the emerald lying there without any incident.

Confused, she slowly closed the drawer and looked for any other signs of disturbance.

Finding none, she slowly made her way back to the main room; she grabbed a weapon from the collection of tools hanging on the wall for added defense, and a small device with a fist-sized diamond embedded into it, then carefully moved towards the table where she saw the book.

Worryingly, the book's cover seemed to shift color depending on the angle she looked at it.

Scanning the intruding objects from all possible angles with the device, the embedded jewel gave a faint but warm yellow glow.

Satisfied no spells of any kind were placed upon the items, Sweetie Drops gave a cautious push against the folded parchment, dropping it on the table.

When nothing happened for over a minute, she shifted her attention to the book.

"Spring Breeze," she read aloud. "What?"

Returning her attention to the obvious note, placed by whoever managed to infiltrate her base for her to read first, she put both the weapon and magical scanner on the table. Then, with her hooves freed up, she unfolded the note.

It is time for you to learn the truth.

"What?" Sweetie Drops uttered in confusion, taking a moment to scan the note and trying to determine whose hoof, horn, or mouth writing this was, but unable to do so.

Putting the note aside for later study, she pulled the book closer to her.

One more sweep with her magic scanner once again confirmed no hidden traps were waiting to activate, and she finally opened the book.

The moment she lifted the cover, the book slammed open and a bright yellow glow came from within the pages as they rapidly flipped to the centerfold.

Sweetie Drops barely had time to shout her surprise when her mind was pulled within the written story of Spring Breeze, and the terrible truth of both their lives that she would soon come to realize.

Author's Note:

I hope you enjoyed this new chapter, and don't forget to leave a comment.

Comments

[prism heart]

I need to look back to remember who Spring Breeze was.

[Powerdrainer]

11017541 You'll be able to find her here.
https://www.fimfiction.net/story/448873/murgrnas-testimony

[TheCommunistDog]

another great chapter

[Time Waster]

I can already see Twilight awkwardly explaining to the shopkeeper that the new bed is just for her, not both her and Danny.

[Clopian26]

So much set up in this , I can’t wait

[theillustriousq]

Excellent Chapter

[Redbow Rose]

Excited to see an update and I can't wait for more!

[ProjectRabbid]

almost