Obama Returns to Equestria

by a human

Sweetie's Song

Sweetie Belle woke up, and immediately noticed something was wrong.

The house was quiet.

Too quiet.

There was none of the grinding, thumping, or complaining that usually happened this time in the morning. There was just… nothing.

Rarity said she'd be back the next morning. Usually, when she said stuff like that, she was right. In fact, usually, she was past right—she was home earlier. Her… effusive personality could turn even most esteemed unicorns into a gibbering mess, and she often gave them the perfect excuse to teleport her back home. Far too many times, Sweetie Belle had been wandering around the house, thinking she was alone, when Rarity was teleported mid-sentence or in more… compromising situations.

And when she intentionally came home early… it was usually with a suitor. Which was invariably worse, even when she didn't kidnap them for a day or month or two.

So, the fact that she wasn't home now, almost a full day after she said she would be back… was incredibly strange.

What did she say she was going to do again?

That's right… she said she was going to a "Straight Pride" fair.

So, an orgy.

Sweetie Belle shook her head. Yes, it was probably offensive to just assume that. She was well aware that much of what Celestia said was propaganda, complete gibberish, or both.

But… Rarity was going there.

Sweetie Belle slid out of bed and decided to look around the house. Maybe Rarity was already home, but was drunk enough that she decided to sleep inside a locked cabinet again.

Maybe she'll actually bring home a little sister this time, Sweetie Belle thought as she absentmindedly looked through a chest of drawers. That was always the excuse she gave Sweetie Belle when she was younger. Technically, it wasn't a lie… but somehow, it never happened.

Despite having unprotected sex with almost every stallion that had the misfortune of crossing her path… Rarity never got pregnant. Or STDs. It was like she was pure concentrated birth control or something.

There was a certain irony in that.

Sweetie Belle, reluctantly, was in Rarity's bedroom now. On the floor, and on the adjacent wall, there was a discolored patch where a large object had blocked sunlight for a long time.

That… time machine.

What was it called again?

…the TARDIS.

Sweetie Belle thought back. That was the day she helped rescue that stallion Rarity, for some reason, refused to let go of. And when she met that mare.

Ditzy.

Until then, she had only known her as Derpy, the klutz. But that day… that changed. Ditzy was overflowing with intelligence. She was a little rude… but she could back it up. And in another world, she did. In another world, she was a star. Sweetie Belle believed that much of what she said. The way she acted… there was no way that wasn't true.

Sweetie Belle was sure she could only hope to capture a small glimmer of the accomplishments of that mare.

Ever since that day, she admired her. And sometimes… that turned into a little more than admiration.

Where was she now?

When was she now?

Sweetie Belle often wondered that. She was probably out in the far future, saving Equestria from millions of years old monsters or something. And she would do it with style. Even if she didn't want to. That's how she was.

She had become Sweetie Belle's ideal mare.

Someone who knew everything.

Someone who could protect you.

Someone who could tell you what you needed to hear… not what you wanted.

She was the only person that had given Sweetie Belle a straight answer about what she was.

She told Sweetie Belle she wasn't a robot. Until then, Sweetie Belle couldn't even be sure of that much.

In retrospect, it didn't make much sense. To the best Sweetie Belle could tell, she was made of flesh and blood. She bled blood, not oil. She didn't explode on contact with water. She didn't have to be charged by jamming batteries in her butt. She wasn't constantly wearing weird black metal speedos. Her nipples didn't glow in the dark.

But since she was told so often that she was a robot, she could not help but take the notion seriously. After all, if the rest of society said she was a robot, who was she to deny that? They had been around much longer than her. They had much more experience.

Surely… their judgments were more sound than hers… right?

And so, for the longest time, even though she tried to laugh it off, she took the idea seriously. She examined her own life in detail, and tried to figure it out.

Could I have thought that way… because I'm a machine?

Could I have been treated like that… because I'm not a real pony?

Not a real life?

She thought. She questioned. She even risked the ball of crankiness known as Twilight to check out some books on robotics from the Ponyville library. And even they just said that thinking robots, like her, were completely impossible—even for masters of technology, like humans and Applejack.

But even in spite of all that… Ditzy's word was the only thing that helped Sweetie Belle put that concern to rest.

That just left the other side of her.

Was she a demon?

Ditzy couldn't tell for sure. All she could say was that through her x-ray vision or whatever, Sweetie Belle's physiology seemed normal. So Sweetie Belle would have to solve on that her own.

But then she realized… that might not be possible.

After all, the definition of a "demon" is subjective.

Anything with sufficient sin is a "demon."

Anything unnatural enough is a "demon."

So how could Sweetie Belle say, with any confidence, that she wasn't?

How could anyone in her family say they weren't?

Apparently everyone in her and Rarity's family had a "curse." It varied in power, and was stronger in the earlier generations, but it was always there. Even in Rarity, apparently—although she refused to tell Sweetie Belle what it was.

When Sweetie Belle heard about this, it immediately struck a chord. The next time her parents came over, she asked about it. They said the same things Rarity said… but they had evidence. Her mother pulled out a family tree, the first one of her family Sweetie Belle had seen. It seemed to be some kind of secret. Sweetie Belle wondered why a family tree would be a secret… but then she noticed.

It cut off.

At a certain point… a pony appeared to come into existence…

…without parents.

At first, she thought it was just to save space. But her mother confirmed it. They had looked into it as well, as every member of the family had… and were unable to find any evidence that this pony had parents.

According to every source they looked at…

And every witness they asked…

This adult was brought into existence with no family at all.

They had no past… and no future… other than an inexplicable urge to start a family.

If there was a "slut" gene, this is where Rarity got it from. This pony had 14 children, despite being involved with at least twice as many people. That's all anyone remembered about them. Their insatiable appetite for sex.

As if… it was their only purpose in the world.

And that was where the curses started. Sometimes it was something oddly specific wrong with one of their bodies. Sometimes it was a mental tic they had that confused everyone else. But always… everyone's perception of them… was somehow warped. Nearly everyone in that first generation… was accused of being a demon at least once.

After hearing a story like that…

…how could Sweetie Belle be certain she wasn't a demon? Or, at least, part demon?

Most ponies had nightmares they were secretly related to Celestia or something.

But what if… Sweetie Belle had something more undignified than an immortal's blood running through her veins?

– – – –

After searching the house to her heart's content, Sweetie Belle determined that no, Rarity was not home. She was probably going to come back sometime soon, but if she had been gone this long… Sweetie Belle had at least a little time to herself.

She decided, on a whim, to use Rarity's luxury shower. She was always jealous of that thing. Apparently, it has been imported from some distant country, and had some amenities added by humans. Like a completely worthless digital clock or something. What was it with humans and digital clocks? Sundials were the only clocks worth a damn in Equestria, since Celestia and Luna never really cared about how long each day was anyway, but whatever. Nothing seemed quite human if it didn't have a digital clock on it.

After running the water on full blast for about 15 minutes to wash out any… gunk Rarity or her friends might have left behind, Sweetie Belle stepped in. There were, of course, no curtains or frosted glass doors or anything. Aside from a railing, the shower was completely exposed. As expected from someone as brash as Rarity.

…and from any species without a nudity taboo, to be honest.

Sweetie Belle stood there for a couple minutes, just reveling in the fact that the warm water actually worked in this part of the house, and that she, for once, actually had some of the water pressure for herself.

Then, she grabbed a brush, washed off whatever Rarityness might remain on it, and began scrubbing herself. The brush, which was likely made from the highest quality human hair, felt amazing against her fur.

At the moment, though, Sweetie Belle did not care about the specifics. She wasn't even washing herself right now—it just felt good to have some luxury for a bit.

If there was one bad thing about Rarity's bathroom—other than the countless dildoes, which Sweetie Belle cleared up beforehand—it was the obscene amount of mirrors. There was hardly anywhere you could look without seeing your own reflection. And even the surfaces that weren't mirrors were marble so polished they might as well been. Sweetie Belle could see her reflection everywhere… her lithe, tall reflection.

Years ago, she never could have imagined she would look like this. Sometimes, she felt she could easily fit in with the models Rarity used, but whenever she said anything even hinting that, people laughed—even after she made it completely clear she was talking about models Rarity used for fashion purposes.

And, in a sense, she couldn't blame them.

She was pushing twenty… and still didn't have a cutie mark.

Any longer than that and you were one of Celestia's playthings, but… there was still hope, right?

She shook slightly. This wasn't the time to think of such things. She scrubbed herself more vigorously, and started to sing an old nursery rhyme she had learned in school about Celestia. Something about the world burning alive or something. It was probably a metaphor or something.

After reaching the part about Celestia conquering "even herself," whatever that meant, Sweetie Belle grabbed the soap and stared at it for a couple seconds. Caught up in the moment, she thought.

She didn't want to be like Rarity, but… with these mirrors… maybe it would be fun to…

Then, it happened.

There was a flash of light, and because of the mirrors, Sweetie Belle immediately noticed.

"Wait, what!? I have—!? What!?"

She tried to turn around to get a better look, but her concentration lapsed, and she dropped the soap. Not paying attention, it landed above one of her raised feet, and…

…she slipped on it.

"AAAAAAGH!"

*CONK*

And that's how Sweetie Belle got a concussion.

– – – –

Darkness. That was all Sweetie Belle could see. Maybe her eyes still worked. Maybe they didn't.

She was beginning to not really care.

Dying while distracted in Rarity's shower wasn't the best way to go. But it probably wasn't one of the worst, either. The things Celestia did to her victims? Urgh.

She could accept a death like this.

But, Sweetie Belle quickly realized… she wasn't dead.

She was on… something soft.

A bed.

And… she could hear people talking in a hurried way. Tens of voices overlapping each other, saying incomprehensible stuff about medicine… and gossiping about who was a changeling or not.

A hospital.

She was in a hospital.

Sweetie Belle groaned, and tried to sit up. She thought she was in heaven for a second there—but then she realized she probably did not want to meet the god that allowed Celestia to do as she pleased.

As she groggily opened her eyes, a nurse noticed her. "Oh, you're awake!" he said, coming over. "We were worried about you for a bit there."

Sweetie Belle blinked. "You were?"

"Yeah." The nurse motioned at her head. Sweetie Belle realized there were quite a few bandages on it. "If you hadn't come in right away, it would've been the end for you."

Something seemed a little wrong with all of this, but Sweetie Belle couldn't quite put her horn on it. "What… happened?"

"You dropped the soap. On yourself," the nurse said with what, in any other universe, would have been a shocking lack of bedside manner. "Anyway, you nearly cracked your skull open. Actually, you did crack your skull open. But don't worry! We fixed that."

Sweetie Belle blushed. "Oh. Oops. I, uh…" Then, it clicked. "Wait. How did you know that?"

"Know what?"

"That I slipped on a bar of soap. Alone."

The nurse scratched his neck. "Er…"

"And how did I get here 'right away'?" Sweetie Belle looked around. "No one knew where I was. No one was expecting me. No one was watching me… right?"

"I'm, er, not sure I'm supposed to…"

"The B.B.S.," another voice said, and Sweetie Belle whipped her head around to see them. It was a bright pink mare that exuded confidence and sparkles. Sweetie Belle could have sworn she had… glitter in her hair.

And that it was getting everywhere.

Sweetie Belle coughed a bit, trying her best not to swallow any. "The what?"

"The B.B.S.," the mare repeated, adjusting her sunglasses so that the glare hit Sweetie Belle right in the face. "The Bathroom Broadcasting System. Celestia, in her infinite wisdom, keeps detailed watch over every bathroom, outhouse, and shower in Equestria."

Sweetie Belle almost thought of asking why.

"Yes, that's right," the nurse said, now confident he could speak freely, or, at the very least, blame the pink mare for any Celestia based carnage that happened. "Hospitals get unrestricted access to it. For… you know." He grasped for a word. "Emergencies."

The pink mare did her sunglass glare thing again. She smiled when Sweetie Belle winced. "And you know who else gets unrestricted access to everyone's bathrooms?"

Sweetie Belle got a sinking feeling. She was starting to get questions. That was a bad sign. "…who?"

The pink mare leaned into Sweetie Belle's face, breathing into her cheek. Sweetie Belle sneezed, making a small sparkly explosion. "…the music industry."

Everything started to fit together. That was a worse sign. "Oh no. You don't mean you heard me—?"

"We've heard a lot of things from you, Sweetie Belle. And I've got to say, we're quite impressed."

Sweetie Belle turned red and buried her face in her hooves.

The pink mare pulled out a piece of paper and pen from the same place Pinkie Pie stores her crap, and held it up to Sweetie Belle's face. "And you know what?" she said, smirking.

Sweetie Belle didn't smirk. Many of Pinkie Pie's parlor tricks had suddenly become less appealing. "What?"

"Vivace Records wants an exclusive contract with you."

Sweetie Belle just about lost it, for real this time. "Because I sang in the shower!? Are you crazy!?"

"Don't knock it. We get three fourths of our talent from bathroom surveillance."

Sweetie Belle facehoofed again.

"I would recommend taking it," the nurse said. "My cousin's not even a big pop star, and he's like, buried in dicks."

"What, like you?" the pink glitter mare said, sunglass glaring him now. The nurse slipped with a pen and probably doomed someone to that death council Celestia kept blaming Obama for.

"Look, I don't want to be buried in dicks," Sweetie Belle grumbled.

"You can also be buried in pussy," the pink mare said, wiggling the document as if this made it more appealing. "Just make sure to check that other box there."

Sweetie Belle glared.

"Actual cats are fine too, if that's what you're into…"

"Look," Sweetie Belle said, shaking her head. She hated to admit it, but she was actually considering accepting—but for completely different reasons than those two were thinking. "You would actually pay me money, right?"

The pink mare blinked, as if this was the first time anyone had asked this. "Yes," she said, "we can also pay you money."

Sweetie Belle continued glaring.

"…okay, fine. Only money."

Sweetie Belle breathed slightly easier.

"So," the pink mare said, getting into her face now, "what do you say?"

"I have to think about it."

"You have 30 seconds. Now or never."

Sweetie Belle started. "What!? When I have–had—am having a concussion!?"

"Welcome to Equestria."

"But what if that was the only good song I had in me!?"

"Then you can't work for anyone else, your life is ruined, and we're all happy."

Sweetie Belle gaped.

"…and you got a cutie mark in singing, so you basically can't get any other job now."

"What? Seriously?" Sweetie Belle had almost forgotten about that. She leaned over and looked at her cutie mark, which was indeed a microphone.

…probably.

It was a little abstract.

Sweetie Belle grabbed the paper. "Why didn't you just say so sooner?" she grumbled, and signed, making sure to avoid that box the pink mare mentioned earlier. "Here."

The pink mare folded the paper neatly and smiled. "Nice doing business with you," she said. She then, for the first time, took her sunglasses off… and winked.

She didn't have pupils.

A popular cosmetic alteration undergone by…

Sweetie Belle just about jumped out of her sheets. "Wha—!? Bu—!? You—!? You're blind!?"

"As a batpony," the pink mare said, then stopped. "Well, a bat. Batponies aren't actually blind, are they? Hmmm."

"But—! You were shining your sunglasses at me, and…"

"One of the benefits of working in the music industry," the pink mare said. "Haven't you ever noticed there's a rhythm to this world?"

Sweetie Belle froze.

She couldn't mean…

"Like," Sweetie Belle said, slowly, "everyone's being swept along by… a giant river?"

The pink mare smiled. "The boss was right. You should be interesting."

And she left, leaving a cloud of glitter behind her.

"What was that about?" the nurse said.

"I don't quite know myself," Sweetie Belle said. She looked at him. "So… do I have any other visitors?"

He shook his head. "I don't think so."

Sweetie Belle cocked hers. "Really? Not even Rarity?"

"Oh, your sister? She's dead."

He grabbed a newspaper from an angry patient.

The headline: Celestia Nukes So-Called 'Straight Pride Convention'

Sweetie Belle blinked. "What."

– – – –

Sweetie Belle was given about half a day to get over her sister's death.

There wasn't much to get over, honestly.

Who killed her? Celestia.

Could she have prevented it? Not a chance in hell.

Closure? Pretty much done.

On one hoof, she was a bit sad that Rarity, along with everyone else at that "straight convention," had been pulverized into a fine powder. But on the other hoof, Celestia helped organize the damn thing. What on earth were they expecting? Every event Celestia organized usually involved someone dying, just on general principle. So what did they expect to happen when bigotry was actually involved?

To be honest… she had prepared herself for Rarity's death a long time ago. Rarity pissed off so many people so much, Sweetie Belle was always surprised it hasn't happened sooner. So, she was a bit sad… but she had basically already gone through the mourning process. In the end, it didn't interfere with her training at all.

Her training was difficult for different reasons.

"I thon't sink sis is thormal thocal thraining," Sweetie Belle got out.

"It will be useful. Trust me," Crescendo, the blind pink glitter mare, said.

Sweetie Belle had some particularly strong dental floss tied to her tongue, and was currently trying to use it to pull a small anvil tied to the other end.

"What is ethen the thoint of this!?" Sweetie Belle said.

"A pop star needs to have a well-trained mouth," Crescendo said.

"I thought pop thars thust lip thynched!"

"Do you want to be a lip synch star?"

"…er, thot really…"

"See? That's why. And, you've gotta prepare for fame, you know."

"Thut?"

Crescendo leaned in closer. "What if Celestia asks you to give her a… 'private showing'?"

Sweetie Belle shuddered and suddenly began working harder.

After a couple more minutes, Crescendo had Sweetie Belle stop. "That's enough for today. You do have to eat, after all."

Sweetie Belle collapsed on the ground, her sore tongue hanging out. The last time she had worked out her tongue that much was when… no, she didn't want to think about it. There had to have been a better way for Fluttershy to clean off her animals…

Crescendo leaned into Sweetie Belle again, making her sneeze from the glitter. "Want me to use my tongue to make you feel a bit—?"

Sweetie Belle shook her head rapidly. "No, no, I really don't," she got out. She was really beginning to wonder about the motivations people had about getting into the music industry. Apparently, the fact that she wanted to be paid in actual money instead of sex was causing Vivace Records' paycheck department quite the problem.

For one, there now had to be one.

"You know, if you're straight, like your sister, you can tell me," Crescendo said, looking a bit disappointed.

"Crescendo. I'm gay. Really gay," Sweetie Belle said. "That does not necessarily mean I want to screw anything with an ovary." Although, in Equestria, that was rare enough that it practically counted as its own sexual orientation…

"Fine, have it your way," Crescendo said. She fished something out of her bag. "Here. Have some crackers."

Sweetie Belle munched on a saltine. It was a little plain, but considering that the alternative was probably someone's bodily fluids… it wasn't bad.

"So, how did you come to work at Vivace Records, anyway?" Sweetie Belle said, crunching and a bit bitter. "Did they harass you right after you got out of a mini-coma, like what you did to me?"

Crescendo was silent for a couple seconds, and then decided to speak. "I'm friends with Vivace, the owner."

"Vivace's a person?"

"Siren, but yes, basically." She paused, and looked down. She actually seemed to become serious. "What do you think it's like… being disabled in Equestria?"

Sweetie Belle swallowed. She had never really thought about it. Crescendo was the type of person that made it really easy to forget she was disabled, for one. She was like that human superhero, the Daredevil, except she seemed to have never considered using her powers for anything more than unbridled hedonism. Her disability seemed to be her advantage.

And yet…

"It's… it's really hard, right?" Sweetie Belle got out. "Aren't disabled children just abandoned on cliff faces or something?"

"That's one option," Crescendo said. If she took offense, she didn't show it. "…and that's the option my parents chose."

Sweetie Belle was silent.

"I was left on a cliff face by the ocean. Left to die," Crescendo said. "I don't remember much, but… I was confused. Scared. I had no idea what was happening… or where I was. I felt the ocean spray on me, so I knew there was water… but I knew nothing else." She paused. "…until I heard it."

"Heard what?"

"The Sirens' song."

Sweetie Belle froze. "Doesn't that mean they want to eat you?"

Crescendo smiled ruefully. "Sometimes," she said. "Sirens are like changelings. They don't necessarily eat 'food' the way we think of it. They feed on thoughts… emotions… companionship. And when they're desperate, that song alone can get them that." She looked down. "That day… she was desperate."

"Vivace?"

"Yes," Crescendo said. "Earlier that day, all of the other sirens had been captured or killed."

Sweetie Belle thought. "I thought… that they were 'sent to a high school in another dimension.'"

"Don't be naïve. That's a euphemism for being sent to the dungeon and you know it."

Suddenly years of history lessons made sense to Sweetie Belle.

"She didn't want to eat me. She just wanted… someone to be there as she died, to be honest. I don't think she expected to live beyond that day. I heard that… in her song. And even though I didn't know what was going on, even though I had never swam before… I jumped into the ocean to be there for her. That's the power of a Siren's song."

Sweetie Belle was silent.

"And you know what? The closer I got to her, the more even I began to see something. I realized… her song the first thing I had ever heard that didn't follow… 'the rhythm.'"

"'The rhythm'?"

"That's what me and Vivace have chosen to call it, at least," Crescendo said. "It's a concept that permeates this world. I believe you described it like a giant river sweeping everyone along. And that's right. If you listen closely… really closely… you'll notice that everyone, everything only moves at a certain tempo. And if anything breaks that tempo, even by fraction of a second… it causes a ripple effect that makes everyone perceive them differently. Do you begin to see what I'm getting at?"

Sweetie Belle was frozen in space.

"The Three—Celestia's henchmen—can break that rhythm occasionally, in very specific ways. That's where their power comes from. But I've only met two people that can break that rhythm all the time. Vivace… and you."

"But… why?" Sweetie Belle got out.

"I don't know," Crescendo said. "But as soon as I heard you, it became obvious. You could potentially yield power greater than the Three. And the only way you can do that… is to train as a singer."

"And if I yield that power…"

"…you could potentially find out what the force behind your life—all of our lives—is," Crescendo said. "Don't you want to do that?"

Sweetie Belle nodded.

"Figured I'd give you that pep talk," Crescendo said, trying to make this whole thing sound casual. "You seem to think becoming a pop star's a little petty. But I think, for you, it's the perfect choice. After all, who yields more power over people's thoughts? A classical musician, studied academically for centuries? Or a pop star, who might not last as long, but influences people now?"

Sweetie Belle could see a certain logic behind it. "Okay," she said. "I understand you. Whatever ability I have… I'll try to learn how to use it." She paused. "This isn't really training to sing, is it? It's more like… martial arts training."

Crescendo smiled. "Very good." Then, she sheepishly scratched the back of her neck.

Sweetie Belle blinked. "What is it?"

"So… er, can I eat you out now…?"

"Oh, for Celestia's—no!"

– – – –

Sweetie Belle's first job was at a nightclub. The task was simple—survive. In Equestria, in addition to rotten fruit and vegetables, it was perfectly legal to throw sharp knives and chainsaws at bad stage performers.

Why? Because Celestia. You should be getting the hang of this by now.

"Whether you sing well or dodge well, you'll be making good use of our training," Crescendo said, patting Sweetie Belle on the shoulder.

"Thanks," Sweetie Belle grumbled, spitting out some glitter of her own. The makeup team had gone a little overboard with her, possibly out of revenge for her turning down their weekly orgy invitations. Sweetie Belle wasn't quite sure how to feel about that.

For one, didn't they still think she was one of the Old Ones…?

"Remember the goal?" Crescendo said.

Sweetie Belle thought back. "I believe so."

"Make them think you're something other than a demon or robot."

Sweetie Belle narrowed her eyes. "I would prefer to make them think I was a normal pony…"

"You mean like your coworkers at Vivace Records?"

Sweetie Belle's eyes widened in horror. "They are not normal."

One of the ponies in the crowd revved a chainsaw.

Crescendo raised an eyebrow.

"…point taken." She looked back out at the crowd. "I sure wish I knew how, though."

"We've gone over this. You know how. You did it that one time, remember?"

"What, you mean the secretary? She called me a succubus, which is technically a demon, and I'm pretty sure she was in heat."

"You can't prove it didn't work."

Sweetie Belle facehorned. "Look, I'm not going to make any promises," she said. "I'm going to be lucky to make get through this without lacerations."

Crescendo scoffed. "Fine, fine. But you'd better at least try, or I'm going to, like, roofie one of your drinks or something."

Considering that nearly every training session began with Crescendo having to convince Sweetie Belle she wasn't roofied right now, that wasn't particularly threatening.

There were then loud noises, and the last band left, 0.75 members shorter than before. "Aaaaand, next up is," the MC began, because really, this whole thing was more like a deathmatch arena than a concert, "…'Normal Pony'!"

Sweetie Belle narrowed her eyes at Crescendo, which Crescendo heard. She shrugged. "Don't tell me I don't listen to you. It's worth a shot."

Sweetie Belle was more concerned that she had somehow never heard her own act's name until now, but she had no choice than to quickly get over it. She quickly breathed in and out a few times, remembered the audience could not possibly hate her more than Rarity, and burst out on stage.

The audience cheered.

Was it because they liked her, or because they anticipated a new victim?

Sweetie Belle tried not to think about that.

For a few seconds, she remained silent, closed her eyes…

…and felt.

She could sing regardless, but maybe this time… she could feel that "rhythm" that Crescendo talked about. The nanosecond long beat… which every mind but hers marched to.

What could she do with that knowledge? No one knew. She was the only person in the world that was completely separated from the rhythm. Only she could sense it all at once. And only she could disobey whatever parts of it she chose. Even Crescendo, even the Three… could only disobey small sections of it. Sweetie Belle had the potential to mold all of it to her needs.

…if only she could feel it.

She knew that. And she knew that likely meant that if she could feel it… she could have anything in the world she wanted.

And for her whole life…

…there was only one thing she had ever wanted.

..............

At that moment, she felt something.

It was a rhythm. But was it the rhythm? She wasn't sure. But she didn't have time to find anything else. The audience was getting impatient, and this just seemed to make too much sense. She could see just the holes she needed to fill.

It was… worth a shot.

So…

…she sang.

– – – –

Afterwards, the audience was silent. Sweetie Belle wasn't entirely sure if that was a good or bad thing. But she never had a chainsaw thrown at her, and that had to be sort of good.

She walked backstage as gracefully as she could, and bumped into Crescendo, who looked… pissed.

"What was that?" she said. "What happened to our training? That was the most trite, ordinary, passionless delivery I've ever heard."

"R-Really?" Sweetie Belle stammered.

"Yes, really!" Crescendo said. "You know, I'm not just in this industry for the sex. I'm also in it for the music. And if that's your idea of what a debut is like, I quit as your manager, starting now."

Sweetie Belle officially had no idea what was going on. "Wait, what!? But I—"

Then, both her and Crescendo heard roaring applause from the stage.

Crescendo turned her head, her ears cocked, a bead of sweat rolling down her face. "…what?"

"I, er, guess they liked it?" Sweetie Belle ventured, feeling simultaneously proud and uneasy.

"Shut up!" Crescendo snapped, and it finally became clear she was attempting to listen more closely to the crowd. "What they're saying… this isn't…"

Then, the stagehands started bugging them.

"Gosh, Crescendo, you've really outdone yourself this time! That was the best metal cover I've heard!"

"No, no, that was pop, right?"

"I thought it was more country."

"I never thought chiptunes could sound so mainstream!"

Sweetie Belle officially had a sinking feeling now. "Crescendo?" she stammered. "What's going on?"

For once, Crescendo looked just as worried as Sweetie Belle. She slowly turned her head. "Everyone heard a different song," she got out. She suddenly grabbed Sweetie Belle, who quickly realized that it Crescendo actually wanted to force herself on her, she easily had the physical strength to do so. "What did you do!?"

"I don't know! I… saw the rhythm, and…"

"And!?"

Sweetie Belle swallowed. "I tried… to be like… a normal pony."

Crescendo briefly flashed with rage, but then took a breath, calmed down, and set Sweetie Belle down. "Right, of course," she said. She let out a nervous laugh. "Well, I hope you realize what that means."

"What?"

One of the stagehands took advantage of the brief second Sweetie Belle had her mouth open to french kiss her. Sweetie Belle yelped and jumped away, but the other mare licked her lips, seeming to think this was some kind of foreplay.

"What!?" Sweetie Belle snapped. "Does all of Equestria want to fuck me now!?"

"Well, that could be a side effect of this," Crescendo said. "I think… you just made everyone out there think you were normal relative to them."

"And?" Sweetie Belle said, dodging more molestation. "So?"

Crescendo smiled sarcastically. "What was it you said to me? That the mares at Vivace Records want to 'screw anything with an ovary'? Well, guess what. If they think that's normal, now they think that's you."

Sweetie Belle's face fell. She babbled incoherently. "But… I… uh… not everyone's like that… right?"

Crescendo's face almost answered for her. "Let me put it this way, Sweetie Belle. I wasn't kidding when I said Vivace Records was a pretty accurate cross-section of what's considered 'normal' in Equestria."

Sweetie Belle froze.

"Congratulations! You are now the most normal pony in Equestria. Everyone thinks you're 'one of them' now. Every sadist, slut, and slop out there." Crescendo grinned bitterly. "Happy?"

Sweetie Belle laughed nervously as a couple mares nibbled on her tail.

– – – –

"Well, that didn't work either. Got any other ideas?"

"How about a chainsaw and a flamethrower?"

"Didn't they already try that?"

"Worth a shot. Then we'll start with the diseases."

"Sounds good."

Two ponies in lab coats talked amongst themselves. A human, also in a lab coat, didn't say anything, and quietly prepared equipment.

None of them even made eye contact with the pony bound to the bloodstained operating table.

Why are people afraid of pain?

Because they fear death.

Without that, is pain scary?

Not really.

In fact… it feels kind of good.

– – – –

Whatever Sweetie Belle had done to herself, it didn't appear to be reversible. No matter how hard she tried, she could not get people to see her the way they used to. And what was the point? Did she want to get seen as a demon or robot again? Not really.

She was a normal pony now, and that was the end of it.

Normal was, perhaps, the wrong way to describe it. It was more like she was viewed as being hypernormal.

Whatever someone thought of as being normal, they thought Sweetie Belle emodied that to the nth degree. If they thought it was normal to be pent up, they thought she was really pent up. If they thought it was normal to murder people, they thought Sweetie Belle murdered a lot of people. And so on.

Of course, that wouldn't have been a problem if people's assumptions were anywhere near how Sweetie Belle actually acted. But they weren't. In fact… Sweetie Belle slowly began to realize that she wasn't normal.

After all, what were all the "normal" ponies she knew like?

Applejack and Rainbow Dash banged at least once a day.

Rarity did even more than that.

Fluttershy murdered small animals, and also slept with everyone.

Pinkie Pie casually forgot that mortal ponies died when you baked them in an oven.

Lyra had a questionable at best definition of consent.

Diamond Tiara was some kind of sadist.

Mayor Mare abused her power for recreational drugs.

And so on.

And this wasn't just some random cross-section of Equestria. Most of these ponies were considered paragons of morality.

Who, out of everyone she knew, was considered the weirdest? Twilight. Because she had a problem with any of this.

Pinkie Pie was bizarre, but was she ever considered deviant? No. Because, while her methods defied comprehension, her casual disregard for mortal life was something the citizens of Equestria could wrap their heads around quite easily.

Why?

Take a guess.

In every Equestria, Princess Celestia is the definition of normal.

In this case, that means that hedonism, genocide, selfishness, and insanity are normal…

…and restraint, mercy, selflessness, insanity are deviant.

Sweetie Belle only now realized… that making people think she was normal meant making them think she was like Celestia.

When people had perceived her as a demon… that, from their perspective, was the correct conclusion.

Thinking she was normal, like them… was wrong.

But in the end, which was the right way to live? The "normal" way? Or the "demon" way? The "demon" way was the only way she knew—to show mercy and compassion to everyone. But where did that idea even come from? Everyone was taught to live the "normal" way from a young age. If she acted like that, not only would no one mind, they would actually like her better for it.

Of course, in the end, it didn't really matter, since now, everyone would believe she was living the "normal" way whether she was or not. But still… she felt she had a bit of a choice.

What, exactly, brought on this philosophical line of thought?

For one, she was currently attending a banquet celebrating the closing of the last food bank in Canterlot.

"Well, everyone, it's finally happened," the Donald said, holding the mic way too close to his mouth and getting spittle stuck between his words. "I told you. I told everyone. You can't trust the poor. How can you trust anyone not skilled enough to lie and cheat their way to the top?"

The nobleponies laughed heartily. Sweetie Belle glared, knowing everyone would just assume she had laughed anyway.

"I kid, I kid. But still, this represents a significant achievement in Celestia's holy goal of crushing all charities in Equestria." The Donald paused, a single, mainly tear dripping from his eye. The eagle he had perched on his shoulder also shed a single tear, albeit for different reasons. "You know, when I first came to Equestria… I'm not going to lie. I thought it was gonna suck. I mean, talking, brightly colored ponies? In my world, that's little girl shit. And in my world… that isn't a compliment."

The audience gasped in mock horror.

"That's right," the Donald said, stroking his now celestial hair, which flowed in the wind feet from his head in golden swirls. That was a particularly strange whim of Celestia's. "In my world, people thought girls were weak. And I thought that too. And—I'll let you know—this is rare for me—I'll admit it. I was wrong. Equestria has taught me a lot more than the magic of friendship." He paused. This increased the suspense. "Equestria has taught me that girls can murder and rape and pillage just as well—if not better—than men!"

The audience clapped and cheered.

The Donald laughed. "Never have I been so happy to be politically correct."

"He really isn't," Crescendo quipped, taking a sip of what she desperately hoped was Celestia's Infamous Spiked Punch™.

"What?" Sweetie Belle said, eager for a chance to stop listening to the Donald.

"I hear rumors, and in perfect clarity, too," Crescendo said, taking another sip. "He's getting a little too cocky for Celestia. She's planning on showing him his place soon. Not that she regrets anything—apparently he's the best kind of piece for her to torture." She looked around. "These people probably all know it too. They're probably just humoring him so it's funnier when he realizes he's been duped."

Sweetie Belle stared ahead. "Just like Celestia…"

Crescendo laughed. "Of course, no one's like Celestia," she said with a hint of envy in her voice.

Sweetie Belle tried to change the subject. "Whatever happened to Trixie?" she said nonchalantly. "I thought she was always by Trum—er, the Donald's side. At least, she was when they made that hideous hotel in Ponyville."

Crescendo thought about it. "You know, I don't know," she said finally. "I've heard a bunch of conflicting stories."

"…like what?"

"Well, a bank clerk apparently found out she was a rich heiress or something, and was found dead a couple days later."

Sweetie Belle cocked her head. "Er, what?"

"Yeah, he had a knife in his back, but they ruled that as a suicide cause some kid said something about a block of ice—"

Sweetie Belle leaned closer and whispered as the crowd gave another impressively acted laugh to a Donald Trump joke. "No, I mean Trixie? A rich heiress?"

Crescendo shrugged. "It wouldn't surprise me. I've seen stranger rich people," she said, and then hastily added a "figuratively speaking." She swirled around her drink, trying to get whatever alcohol there was to rise to the top, and took another sip. "Apparently she received a large sum of money from a dead uncle or something. I guess he got rich from the stage? But that's a pretty common way to cover up hedge funds, so who knows."

Sweetie Belle nodded vacantly, wondering in what economic system making up a nonexistent relative was harder to track than fishy bank deposits. "And? What else?"

"Well, another story contradicts that. Someone says she's still doing roadside stage shows, and not looking too good. Like her eyes are crooked or something."

Sweetie Belle blushed, briefly reminded of Ditzy. "Is that it?"

Crescendo scoffed. "Well, the last one's the most ridiculous of them all. Apparently someone else was talking to Trixie while one of her stage shows was going on."

Sweetie Belle, once again, nodded vacantly. "Yes, that does sound quite difficult for her."

"I don't mean at the show, smartass," Crescendo snapped. "I mean somewhere else."

Sweetie Belle's ears perked. "You mean she was in two places at once?"

"Yep. That's what they say."

Sweetie Belle thought about it. "So, Trixie is either… rich, destitute, or… cloned."

Crescendo finally finished her drink. "In other words—we don't know what the hell happened to her."

Sweetie Belle narrowed her eyes. "Or maybe it's all three," she muttered. "Like, she, with a bunch of money, made a clone, and then made her destitute…"

Sweetie Belle stopped. Crescendo was staring at her like she was an idiot. That was a lot more embarrassing with Crescendo, because she when she looked at you, she looked exactly at the nonsense you were spouting out. "Sweetie Belle, did you get the spiked drink?"

Sweetie Belle looked down. "Er, no." In fact, she had tried to avoid drinking anything whatsoever, but all the food served was extremely salty, and she had to relent.

"Then don't say such nonsense," Crescendo said, throwing her wine glass on the ground in official royal fashion. The shards of glass quickly disappeared, magically teleported to some back alley somewhere, also in official royal fashion. It seemed appropriate, given the theme of the banquet. "Why do you care so much anyway?"

"…because I want to do anything but listen to Dona—er, the Donald's speech."

Crescendo shrugged. "Makes sense."

Sweetie Belle turned back. "I'm going to see if there's any o'dourves left."

"Fine, fine," Crescendo said. "Get me some more punch while you're at it. Try to get the stuff that's actually spiked, not just slimy, like this stuff was."

Sweetie Belle ignored that and headed to the back table. Luckily, there were still some chocolates left. And…

"Sweetie Belle! Is that you?"

Sweetie Belle looked up, disappointed. She was hoping to at least get five seconds to herself to choose a dessert. But luckily, it was someone she didn't actually mind meeting again. "Bon-Bon? Is that you?"

Bon-Bon, behind the table, nodded. "That's right. I did the catering for the desserts."

Sweetie Belle looked around. "So, if you're here, that must mean Lyra's…"

Sweetie Belle stopped when she noticed the color drain from Bon-Bon's face. "Sweetie Belle. I left Lyra."

"Really!? I thought you guys were as close as…" She really couldn't think of a good way to describe their relationship. "…er, something."

Bon-Bon clearly didn't agree. "I got tired of bailing her out of jail after the 75th time."

Sweetie Belle had to admit, that was a pretty good reason. "So, what's she doing, anyway?"

Bon-Bon shivered. "I'd rather not talk about it," she said. "Just… stay away from the drinks."

Sweetie Belle gulped. She knew something was up with those things. "T-Thanks, I'll keep that in mind," she said, even though it was perfectly obvious to both parties that it was too late now. "Recommend any chocolates?"

Bon-Bon thought about it and handed one to Sweetie Belle from behind the table. "Here. I'm sure no one's touched this one."

Sweetie Belle was taken aback. "Thank you," she said, knowing just how difficult it was to get untainted food at any event even a couple degrees removed from royalty. She nibbled on it while walking around, trying to see if she could spot any celebrities. The Donald's speech was still going on.

She smelled Spitfire before she saw her. Spitfire apparently had the audacity to show up completely naked and in heat. Which was… well, completely legal, to be honest. Public nudity and sex were not against the law—although arbitrary arrests weren't, so people really didn't have much patience for the latter—but combining both at a formal dinner was a little much. It was the type of thing that… well, only Spitfire would do.

Sweetie Belle decided to risk talking to her. It wouldn't be much more risky than work. She made sure to finish eating her chocolate, in case Spitfire had some kind of oral fixation, and carefully approached her.

"H-Hello?" she said.

Spitfire sensed the presence of something with a beating heart behind her and turned around seductively. "Hello," she said huskily, which in Equestria, meant "like one of Celestia's trained huskies."

Sweetie Belle was briefly disarmed. She wondered, for the first time, what the point of heat was when 90% of everyone was gay and it just made mares more attracted to each other. That was most people's hint something was horribly wrong with Equestria, but until now, Sweetie Belle had always been more worried about why everyone thought she was a robot to pay it much mind. "So, er, how are you liking the banquet?"

"I'm loving it," Spitfire said, taking a slug of her drink. "Lyra really outdid herself with these drinks." She looked up at the Donald, who was now dancing and singing with the mic stand, and smiled sinisterly. "I'd love to see the look on his face when he finds out what's in this stuff."

Sweetie Belle jumped. "What is in this stuff?"

Spitfire, under the bedroom eyes, looked a bit confused. "What? You don't know? Don't you know what Lyra does now?"

"Er, I don't think so."

Spitfire stared at her for a couple seconds, then shrugged. "Well, you'll find out soon enough anyway." She paused, as if trying, and failing, to execute a graceful transition. "Want to have sex?"

While all the history books said Celestia had decided to forgo STDs "this time around" because they "took the fun out of everything," Sweetie Belle couldn't help but imagine Spitfire was the exception to that. "Not particularly," she said, and then realized she needed to change the subject a little more forcefully. "Say, how are the Wonderbolts doing?"

Spitfire twitched. "What?"

That seemed to work. "Like, whatever happened to Soarin, anyway?"

Spitfire's face contorted into anger. Sweetie Belle sensed something strange ripple through her body. It wasn't some flash of arousal, which she would expect around Spitfire—it was a similar feeling to when she discovered the rhythm that let her alter her fate. Except this time, it wasn't her screwing with the rhythm—it was Spitfire.

Crescendo said the only people that could do things with the rhythm were her and the Three. But apparently, no one really knew who the Three were, since the only way to find out was to end up as one of their assassination targets.

Did that mean… Spitfire was one of the Three?

Sweetie Belle tried to not let anything show. There was probably a reason that secret was so well protected.

Spitfire, on the other hand, seemed to have all ability for rational thought taken from her, and suddenly stormed away, muttering something about peanut butter.

Sweetie Belle let out a breath, and decided maybe it would just be better to stick with Crescendo. She was a bit strange, but for the most part, she provided a running commentary on the madness more than contributing to it herself.

As Sweetie Belle made her way over, though, she spotted someone else that looked uncomfortable. That looked promising.

Besides, she had wanted to talk to her for a while.

"Hello, Princess Luna," Sweetie Belle said, doing her best curtsy.

Luna sighed. "In a place like this, there's no need."

Sweetie Belle didn't necessarily disagree, but she was a bit surprised. She thought Luna might've been a little more old-fashioned.

But then again, she thought Celestia was quite a few things she wasn't, so whatever. "How are you enjoying the banquet?"

Luna's weary eyes said it for her. Maybe those rumors about her secretly helping out the charities were true. But regardless, it wouldn't be safe for her to talk about that here, so Sweetie Belle tried to change the subject.

"Anyway," Sweetie Belle said, transitioning significantly better than Spitfire, "I wanted to thank you."

Luna looked a bit confused. "Really? For what? …not for raising the moon, I hope."

"No, no," Sweetie Belle said. "I wanted to thank you for helping me out with that dream."

Luna blinked a few times, her face the epitome of someone who had completely forgotten who the person she were talking to was, but was desperately trying to pretend otherwise. "Er, yes. Quite." When Sweetie Belle offered no hints, she improvised. "You were quite… voracious."

Sweetie Belle was a bit disappointed. Didn't alicorns have a better memory than that? Maybe she was just busy. "Er, nevermind." She was going to tell Luna to avoid the drinks, but then she noticed Luna hadn't touched hers. "I'm just going to… find my… friends."

And Sweetie Belle left.

A batpony stationed next to Luna spoke. "That was close."

"It's her own damn fault for not telling us these things," Luna snapped. Then, she calmed down, and looked at her drink. After wincing for a second, she grabbed it and downed the whole thing. She seemed to instantly become infused with energy. Her form became sharper, her fur less matted, her wings more majestic…

…but her face looked much more sad than before.

– – – –

One of the guests, a mare with curly hair and a curly dress, had snuck outside into the cool moonlit garden, and was seemingly speaking to herself.

"Yes. The Donald appeared. The rumors appear to be true. Celestia is preparing to eliminate him herself. She had Lyra prepare the drinks for this event—and I think we all know what that means."

She paused. Whoever was on the other end—of what, no one knew—was apparently speaking.

"Yes, he is the only one that knows enough to figure out Corvorum Crepusculum exists. But if we moved now, I think it would be suspicious enough to—"

She froze.

Staring her right in the face was Spitfire.

"Want to have sex?"

– – – –

The ponies in lab coats looked at each other awkwardly. Then they looked at the operating table. Then at each other. Then at the operating table.

"Since when was that there?"

"I thought this was the unused storage room."

"Why do we have a little girl strapped to the operating table?"

"Are those buckets full of blood?"

They looked at each other.

"Do I know you?"

"I'm… not really sure."

They paused.

"Maybe… we should just let her go."

"And forget any of this happened?"

"Yeah, that sounds good."

– – – –

Backstage, at yet another concert, Sweetie Belle looked at the lighting guy.

"Hello? Are you okay?"

He was currently staring out into space, looking completely vacant. After a couple seconds, though, he snapped out of it. "…what?"

"You, like… spaced out for about 10 seconds there."

He looked indignant. "No I didn't."

"…yes, you did."

"No I didn't."

Sweetie Belle facehoofed. "Nevermind."

"Concert starts in 10 minutes. You'd better get with it, 'Normal Pony,'" he sneered, and walked away.

Sweetie Belle sighed. Particularly annoying were the ponies who thought it was "normal" for everyone but them to be an idiot. Her power made it quite useless to deal with them, and she usually had to set Crescendo loose on them to get anything done.

But still, it wasn't that bad. She had basically gotten her wish, even though it was a bit different than what she had intended. Besides, it did feel a little good…

…to be a star.

– – – –

Signing autographs, however, was a bit awkward when everyone perceived your act completely differently. They actually had to institute a rule—no one in the autograph line was allowed to talk about the act with each other. It must have seemed extremely arbitrary to the fans, but otherwise, Sweetie Belle and her staff would have to fend off hordes of rabid fans arguing about what genre she was.

Besides, this was Equestria. Everyone was pretty used to arbitrary. When anyone asked why that rule was in place, they could usually get away with saying "guess who," and the unsuspecting fan would immediately suspect Celestia and get on with their day.

Sweetie Belle absentmindedly signed, and thought. She had learned a long time ago that she didn't really need to put much effort into the penmanship of her autographs—in fact, the more demented they were, the more unique they became, and the more they were worth.

So, while she signed, she thought.

Whatever happened to her friends, anyway? Apple Bloom had apparently died, involved in some incredibly bizarre incident in the human colony. Even Crescendo had hardly been able to find anything out about the incident, other than that a member of the Three might have been involved. In fact, he might have died, which would make the Three the Two. But it was still called the Three. So was that false? Or was Celestia just screwing with everyone by refusing to change the name?

It was kind of pointless to even think about which was true.

And Scootaloo was… immortal or something. She probably wasn't doing too bad for herself. Or, well, she was probably at least alive, which would put her ahead of most of the Mane Six. And, who knows? If she was immortal, maybe she would be forever youthful! That would explain…

…wait. Explain what?

Sweetie Belle looked up and realized she was staring directly at Scootaloo.

The exact same 10-year-old Scootaloo she had known from her childhood.

"I liked your song," Scootaloo said, smiling. She held a piece of scrap metal, presumably for Sweetie Belle to sign.

Also, she was covered with blood.

Sweetie Belle screamed.

– – – –

Crescendo, Sweetie Belle, and a now clean Scootaloo sat in Sweetie Belle's trailer.

"Who… is this?" Crescendo said, gesturing at Scootaloo.

"A childhood friend of mine," Sweetie Belle said.

"Who's eternally young."

"Yes."

"And the only other immortal apart from the princesses."

"Yes."

Crescendo headdesked. "You expect me to believe that!?"

"I can juggle knives to demonstrate, if you want," Scootaloo offered.

"No! Don't!" Sweetie Belle immediately screamed.

"If she's immortal, what are you worried about?" Crescendo grumbled.

Sweetie Belle looked down, embarrassed. "It's… a little gross to watch her organs regrow."

Crescendo looked at nothing in particular. "You are so not a normal pony."

Sweetie Belle fidgeted. "So… now what?"

Crescendo didn't move, but got an aura of pissed. "…what?"

"I mean, what do we do now that…"

"I'm sorry," Crescendo snapped, "we don't have a procedure for 'the fifth immortal comes out of nowhere coated in blood'!"

The three were silent.

"And," Sweetie Belle said, wishing she could keep this part a secret, "she has amnesia."

"What."

"I'm Scootaloo," Scootaloo said, helpfully. "I know that much. And I figured out I was immortal when I tripped into a box of knives." Crescendo and Sweetie Belle didn't even ask. "…but I can't really remember anything earlier than this morning."

"What's the first thing you remember?" Crescendo said, desperate for answers.

Scootaloo thought. "Let's see," she said. "I think I was in some kind of lab. Or surgery room. It was really dark. There were a lot of sharp things. Like knives, saws, chains… some syringes. The walls had all these dark splotches on them. And there were some buckets with a dark liquid in them, too."

That would have been scary enough had it not been for the completely casual way Scootaloo described the scene. "Where were you in all this?" Crescendo said.

"I was tied to a big operating table with rope and a bunch of metal straps."

Sweetie Belle and Crescendo kept waiting for some sign of trauma to appear on Scootaloo's face, but instead, she continued acting like she was talking about going to the supermarket or something. "And? Then what?"

"There were some ponies in lab coats there."

Sweetie Belle shuddered. "What… what did they do to you?"

Scootaloo shrugged. "Nothing. They didn't know why I was there. I didn't know why I was there. They didn't really even know why they were there. So they let me go."

Sweetie Belle and Crescendo were silent. "And… that's it?"

Scootaloo nodded. "Oh, but I tripped into a box of knives on the way out. They had a lot of knives there."

The three were, once again, silent.

Crescendo considered whispering, but then realized Scootaloo seemed to have more of a stomach for the macabre then they did. "You think they screwed with her head or something?"

"Maybe," Sweetie Belle said. "But wouldn't that mean they screwed with their own heads too? They forgot who she was."

Crescendo blinked. "Right," she said. "So we don't know what the fuck's going on."

"I think she has parents," Sweetie Belle offered. "Should we try to contact them?"

Crescendo just about lost it. "You think she has parents!? You think!?" Crescendo yelled. "How do you not know!?"

"She said she wasn't an orphan, but I never met her parents."

"And no one else did either!?"

Sweetie Belle thought about it. "You know, I don't think so," she said. "Rainbow Dash pretended to adopt her for a while, but Obama put an end to that. Everyone was so happy Rainbow Dash was away from kids they didn't really think about it too much. …what?"

Crescendo was giving her the same look Sweetie Belle gave her when she talked about the makeup department's weekly orgies. "Good grief, where did you grow up? Celestia's outhouse!?"

Sweetie Belle thought about it. "Yes, I believe I have heard Ponyville called that."

Crescendo finally accepted that she was out of her element. "Look, I think you know more about this stuff than I do," she said. "What do you think we should do?"

"Go to Ponyville and look for Scootaloo's parents."

"I'll arrange a weeklong vacation ASAP," Crescendo said, looking haggard. She walked out.

"Sorry if I'm causing you any problems," Scootaloo said.

"No, no, it's fine," Sweetie Belle said. It was nice to be reunited with one of her friends.

But… the circumstances were a little different than what she was picturing.

– – – –

At a local hotel, Spitfire walked into the shower seductively even though no one was there.

Someone could be watching. And if they were, she'd fuck them.

Spitfire didn't have many problems with stalkers. She was a problem for stalkers.

She turned on the water, waited for it to get warm enough for steam to get everywhere, and walked in.

At the beginning of her showers, she didn't even bother washing herself. She reached back, and…

…hit something.

"Any findings on the organization-that-cannot-be-pronounced?" Celestia said, smiling, her wings splayed.

For ponies that gave a damn about personal space, it would've been very cramped. Spitfire, however, quite enjoyed being tickled everywhere by Celestia's celestial hair. Not many people knew it was prehensile.

"Corvorum Crepusculum lost Scootaloo. It seems all of their members simultaneously forgot who she was," Spitfire said. She cocked her head, smiling. "Were you responsible for that?"

"In a manner of speaking," Celestia said. "Any progress in finding out with that stupid name means?"

"No," Spitfire said. "It might be from some human languages."

"Figures," Celestia said. "I asked Twilight about it and she just started laughing. So I guess it's possible to figure out from a book."

Spitfire looked confused. "She didn't tell you what it was?"

Celestia let minor irritation cross her face. "No. She wouldn't even tell me after I ate her wings off. I don't think she cares anymore." She bared her teeth. "But I predicted that. She'll care soon enough. Anyway, what happened next?"

"Some people took Scootaloo in."

"As expected," Celestia said. "Who's her guardian this time?"

Spitfire thought. "It's… that one pop star. You know, Rarity's sister. Sweetie Bot or something."

Celestia shivered. You could feel it.

Spitfire was a bit worried. "What? What is it?"

"It's probably nothing," Celestia said. "It's just… a bad combination. Keep an eye on them. We might have to… take action later." She licked Spitfire's ear, seemingly forgetting her concerns. "For now… it's time to take action on you."

Spitfire shivered. This was one of the perks of being part of the Three.

…for her, at least.

– – – –

Crescendo opted to stay out of the trip to Ponyville. Sweetie Belle wasn't the only star she was managing, after all—and more importantly, she was not as comfortable with all the metaphysical bullshit that came with Ponyville as Sweetie Belle.

Sweetie Belle was a little irritated. She was uncomfortable with Vivace Records' debauchery, but that didn't mean she ran away from it. And she wasn't exactly comfortable with Ponyville's weirdness—just resigned to it.

…at least, she was when it only affected herself.

"What's going on?" Scootaloo asked, looking a bit worried.

"Nothing," Sweetie Belle said, too quickly. "Nothing unusual at all. We'll find someone quickly. Just you watch."

The first part wasn't a lie. Complete insanity was the norm in Ponyville. But it didn't seem likely they would find "someone" soon.

Every person they met had forgotten Scootaloo. And not just forgotten—they acted like she had never existed in the first place. According to them, the Cutie Mark Crusaders had two members, no one brought small children to the Celestia assassination attempt, and no one ever got themselves decapitated in the middle of town square just to prove a point.

"Excuse me," Sweetie Belle said to some random pony, "do you know… er, recognize this child at all?"

Scootaloo smiled.

The pony gasped in abject horror. "You ought to be ashamed of yourself, doing things like that with children!" they said, and stormed off.

Scootaloo blinked. "What."

Sweetie Belle sighed. "I'll tell you when you get older," she said, which was a bit underhanded since Scootaloo appeared not to age. When someone thought it was "normal" to do strange things with children, it could only really mean a few things…

Sweetie Belle thought. "More importantly, I think we need to take a new approach."

Scootaloo's eyebrow raised. "Like what?"

Sweetie Belle smiled, although it certainly wasn't out of confidence. "Even if everyone here's an idiot and forgot about you," she seethed, "there's one thing they can't change."

– – – –

"Y-You want to look at the town records!?" the new mayor of Ponyville, Super Secretary, stammered.

Equestrian politics worked roughly like Klingon politics—the most efficient way to rise up the ranks was to kill your superiors. So, when Mayor Mare OD'd herself to death under suspicious circumstances, everyone assumed her direct underling, Super Secretary, was responsible. Did she have an alibi? Of course. She was working in a completely different department when it happened. But that clearly just meant she set up a perfect alibi trick.

She was quickly promoted with honors and had been in over her head for roughly a decade.

"Yes," Sweetie Belle said. "I just want to see the birth certificates, though."

Super Secretary gaped. That wasn't technically legal. Apparently Obama had suffered from some trouble in the human world that could have been solved if people had access to his birth certificate, so Celestia decided to make it difficult for everyone else too.

But…

"She wants to find out who my parents were," Scootaloo said, doing her best puppy dog eyes. It was kind of terrifying.

Super Secretary nearly had a heart attack. "O-Okay," she got out. "Just that one file, though! That's where I draw the line."

"That's fine," Sweetie Belle said, following her to another room.

Super Secretary paused. "It is?"

Sweetie Belle frowned. "…yes?"

"You aren't going to threaten me for access to the vault or anything?"

Sweetie Belle had thought of leveraging her pop star authority to make things go easier, but that was rapidly seeming unnecessary. "…why would I do that?"

Super Secretary visibly sighed in relief. "Okay. Follow me. I'll find what you're looking for." She looked uncomfortably at Scootaloo, who was still trying to look cute. "What was her name again?"

"Scootaloo."

Super Secretary thought. "I don't remember anyone here named…"

"Just find the damn file."

Sweetie Belle's tone was intimidating enough to get Super Secretary back into secretary mode. She came back a few minutes later with a manila folder.

Sweetie Belle's face brightened up. "You found it!?"

Super Secretary, however, scratched her neck. "Sort of," she said. "You're not going to like this, though."

"What?"

Super Secretary opened the manila folder.

It was empty aside from a single paper.

"NICE TRY."

– – – –

At a café, Sweetie Belle headtabled.

"What does this mean?" Scootaloo said, eating some of the decorative flowers.

"I don't know," Sweetie Belle grumbled.

"Maybe I never did live here," Scootaloo suggested. "No one remembers me. I don't have any files."

"Your file existed! It said 'nice try'!" Sweetie Belle snapped. "Obviously someone's trying to hide your existence!"

Scootaloo paused. "I don't know," she said. "That doesn't make any sense."

"Why!?"

"If they were, wouldn't it be better just to throw my file out?"

Sweetie Belle thought about it. She was right. If no part of Scootaloo's file existed, not even the manila folder, whoever was hiding her could just claim it was never there in the first place.

But… it was.

Not only did it exist, but there was a mocking note in it.

It undermined their goal.

"Besides, you say everyone here forgot about me, but how's that possible?" Scootaloo said. "You can't just erase an entire town's memory."

Sweetie Belle blinked. She began to get a creeping feeling. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah. Mind control magic's nearly impossible."

Sweetie Belle leaned in. "It is?"

"Of course," Scootaloo said, as if this was obvious. "Imagine what it would be like if someone could just say, hey, I know, I'll make the whole world dance to a rhythm! It'd be complete chaos."

Sweetie Belle broke out in a cold sweat. "Yeah…" she said, "complete… chaos…"

A useless risk…

A lot of power…

The rhythm…

It… can't be…

A couple tables away, Fluttershy took a sip of her tea. She then squeezed a small bird's insides into it. For flavor.

She looked at Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle.

…and giggled.

– – – –

Sweetie Belle kicked open the front door to the Carousel Boutique and ran inside. She grabbed the phone and immediately began dialing.

"What's going on?" Scootaloo said, awkwardly following. Sweetie Belle had been oddly tense since their conversation at the café.

"Come on, pick up, pick up," Sweetie Belle muttered, ignoring Scootaloo.

On the other end, there was a click. "Hello, Vivace Records, Crescendo speaking…"

"Crescendo! You've got to listen! I think I figured out what's going on with Scootaloo, and…" Sweetie Belle paused. "Wait, do you think this line is tapped?"

"Hi!"

"..."

"..."

"Er, Crescendo, who was that?"

Crescendo sounded like she facehoofing over the phone. "Sweetie Belle…"

The third, oddly perky voice continued. "Oh, me? I'm… no one. Don't mind me. Carry on. Ha ha ha ha!"

"..."

"..."

Crescendo decided to ignore them. "So, what were you going to say about Scootaloo?"

"…nothing…"

"Very good. Now…"

"Aw! I wanted to hear it! Come on, guys! This job is so boring!"

"Shut up!" Crescendo snapped. "Anyway…"

"I can send some money to your address. It'd be easy."

"Anyway, Sweetie Belle…"

"Pleeeeeeeeease?"

Crescendo tried her best to yell over them. "Sweetie Belle! The boss wants to see you! Both of you!"

"Oh, really? I'm honored!"

"Yeah, yeah. Get down here. Quick."

"Hey, wait, 'boss'? You mean… Vivace? You mean… Vivace is a pers—!? Hey!"

Crescendo hung up, giving Sweetie Belle the chance to hear the panicked phone operator quickly switch to another call to eavesdrop on.

"Sweetie Belle," Scootaloo said, once again, "please tell me what's going on."

Sweetie Belle tried to think of a quick explanation. "Ever wanted to meet a siren?"

Scootaloo thought about it. "You mean those giant fish that seduce sailors and screw them to death?"

Sweetie Belle opened and closed her mouth a few times. "Er, I think so."

Scootaloo shrugged and walked outside. "Sounds fun."

– – – –

Sweetie Belle came to the Vivace Records headquarters as quickly as she could.

…which was about 12 hours, considering all. She took the train. Like most unicorns, she wasn't confident enough in her teleportation abilities to risk accidentally materializing in one of the Royal Bathrooms or something. Pegasi also usually rode the train, fearful of rumors that the local royal guards sometimes used them as target practice.

Out of breath, sprinting, Sweetie Belle burst through Vivace Records' front door. Scootaloo casually fluttered in.

"I came as quickly as I could!" Sweetie Belle got out.

The secretary raised an eyebrow.

Sweetie Belle facehoofed. "Oh, for fuck's sake…"

The secretary, for once, seemed to take pity on Sweetie Belle. "I'll... call up Crescendo. She's been waiting for you."

A couple minutes later Crescendo walked down the stairs. "What took you so long? Can't you just teleport here?"

"Not many unicorns are brave enough to teleport into Canterlot," Sweetie Belle said.

"It's not that hard," Crescendo said. "Just choose a spot, add some precautions, put them in a magic rune, and activate that whenever you want to come over."

Sweetie Belle narrowed her eyes.

Crescendo was an earth pony.

"Anyway, follow me," Crescendo said, walking towards a large door Sweetie Belle hadn't really thought about until now. "Vivace is waiting."

The door slid open, and they found themselves on a large open elevator, the kind used to transport large goods in mines. Crescendo pulled a lever and they began to descend.

Slowly.

"Well," Sweetie Belle said, trying to make smalltalk, "I'm glad I'm finally able to meet Vivace. I feel like I'm finally up to par."

Crescendo looked awkward, suspiciously as if a two-year long office prank was finally coming to an end. "Actually, er, that had nothing to do with it. Vivace's wanted to meet you for a while."

Sweetie Belle was confused. "What? Why?"

"Well, you managed to use the rhythm for your own benefit, which no known mortal has ever done."

Made sense. "So… why haven't we met?"

Crescendo blushed. That wasn't good. "Because… er… you made it clear you didn't want to have anything to do with the sex here."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

Crescendo groaned. "Sweetie Belle," she said, "you remember that Vivace is a siren, right?"

"Right."

"And you've heard how seductive sirens are, right?"

"Right."

"They can't actually… turn that off."

"…oh."

"Let's just say Vivace is… very close to all of her employees." Crescendo paused. "Except you."

Sweetie Belle would have been offended if that didn't raise bigger questions. "Wait, wait, wait, wait, you mean everyone but me has…?"

"Yes," Crescendo said. "Frequently," she added.

"And she's… how big, again?"

Crescendo thought. "You know that place you live?"

"The Carousel Boutique?"

"About that big." Crescendo paused. "Curled up."

Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo were listening in some kind of bile fascination. "And she's… feeding off of all of you?"

"Do we look unhappy with that arrangement?"

Sweetie Belle had to admit, she had a point there.

"The only reason the changelings drained people so thoroughly during the Canterlot Wedding Invasion was because they were starving," Crescendo said. "A well fed siren like Vivace… isn't. She only needs to take a little bit. And it's… pretty worth it."

"Right," Sweetie Belle said. "And you thought I shouldn't meet with her because I wouldn't be able to resist that?"

"I-It was Vivace's idea, actually," Crescendo said quickly. "She didn't want you to do anything you would regret."

"How noble."

They had started passing some rougher looking rock, and the air began to cool. Crescendo stopped and turned around. "Look, I'm not kidding," Crescendo said. "It's going to be hard to resist her. In fact, maybe you should go in alone first so Scootaloo here doesn't see anything—"

Sweetie Belle finally snapped. "Look, Crescendo!" she yelled. "I'm not you! I can resist a giant fish in front of a small child! Just let us in!"

– – – –

After going through a particularly well protected door about five stories underground, Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo found themselves being led by Crescendo through a series of catwalks over a large tank. "Large," in fact, hardly seemed to do it justice. It was about the size of a football field, and three stories deep. It was a fairly spartan room, but it was clearly extravagant in its own way.

"Since when has this been here?" Sweetie Belle said, looking at the lit up pool in wonder.

"Since this building was constructed," Crescendo said, clearly used to the place. "It's the whole reason headquarters is so big."

"I saw some pretty big buildings on the way here," Scootaloo said. "Are they hiding nearly extinct species too?"

"Nah, they're just copying us," Crescendo said. "…I think."

"Is this really necessary, though?" Sweetie Belle said. "I thought sirens could shapeshift. And live on land."

"Sort of," Crescendo said. "While they can fudge it a little, changelings and sirens are basically bound by the law of conservation of matter. Vivace is big. Unless she wanted to try posing as a small skyscraper, it wouldn't help much. And, well, let's just say that… being a fish that big out of water is pretty inconvenient no matter how well you can breathe."

Sweetie Belle was beginning to really want to meet this Vivace.

Scootaloo then ran to the other side of the catwalk and looked over. "Look! I see something!"

Sweetie Belle rushed over and looked as well.

"…Crescendo?"

"Yeah?"

"For future reference, your size estimate was a little off."

Vivace's tail was about the size of Carousel Boutique.

And as it slowly, gracefully swam out of view, Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle found themselves almost unconsciously moving to the other side of the catwalk to see what it was connected to.

That's when they saw her.

Vivace.

Sweetie Belle was utterly shocked. Not because the legends overselled the impact of a siren—because they vastly underselled it.

She was big. Really big. The tank, which was easily the size of a football field, could've only held four creatures the size of her, and even then it would've been cramped. This was not a creature that had to settle for seducing mere sailors—she could easily envelope a boat.

And yet, Sweetie Belle was not scared at all.

In raw strength, Vivace probably could outmatch Celestia. For one, she had about 45 times more body mass at her disposal. But when you saw her move… it was easy to forget that.

Celestia could radiate elegance, but even at her gentlest, it could only be the elegance of predator at its prime waiting to strike. That could be beautiful in its own right—but could it be comforting? Could it make you feel loved?

Not at all.

And that was exactly the evolutionary niche sirens were designed to fill.

If you took a photograph of Vivace at any point in time, every line, every curve would be in just the right place to make her look like a refined painting. If you watched her move, you would feel that she could do nothing but gently stroke you with her girth. Seeing her in person, and getting hit by both of those feelings simultaneously, produced emotions intense to the point of being almost indescribable.

And that was only if you weren't drawn to the erotic nature of her form.

All Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo could do was gape. Vivace hadn't even done anything. She had just swam from one end of the room to the other. Sweetie Belle could not help but imagine what she was capable of if she was trying to impress them.

"Brace yourself," Crescendo said, smiling. She had clearly gotten this reaction from people before.

This time, Sweetie Belle believed her, and tried to control herself. Crescendo nodded. Slowly, Vivace swam to the surface of the water and poked her head out. Then, she let some of her torso appear as well, along with her long, clawed arms.

Seeing that body dripping wet was one thing. But Sweetie Belle quickly learned that sirens had an olfactory component to their seduction as well.

Scootaloo looked at Sweetie Belle, noticing something was up. "What's wrong? You're fidgeting."

"Nothing, nothing, nothing," Sweetie Belle said very quickly, blushing. "I'm just… nervous."

She wasn't quite sure what was going on in Scootaloo's head, but she didn't want to give her any ideas. Crescendo was right—it probably was a bad idea for them to see Vivace together. But Sweetie Belle could blame no one but herself for this. She was the one that didn't believe Crescendo when she tried to warn her just how… intense Vivace could be.

"Hello, Sweetie Belle," Vivace said, proving that Chuck Norris was not the only being that could make women practically come merely from the sound of their voice.

Then, Vivace turned to Scootaloo, and… stopped. Her eyes lowered, her mouth curled, and… a tear formed at the edge of one of her eyes. "And hello… Scootaloo."

Scootaloo was silent. She didn't know what was happening either, but she didn't even consider breaking the moment.

Not with her.

"I thought you were dead," Vivace said. She looked up and down Scootaloo's body. "What have they done to you?"

"Do you know her?" Sweetie Belle said, with a twinge of jealousy. It was kind of unreasonable, but Scootaloo was immortal. Her and Vivace could've gone way back. Like way way back.

"I don't think so," Scootaloo replied, but she didn't look too sure.

Vivace winced, but appeared braced for this. "They… erased your memory, didn't they?"

Scootaloo thought about it. "They… must have," she said, "if I forgot about you."

Vivace paused. "I see," she said. "But do you sometimes… remember bits and pieces? Feel like there's something wrong with your life?"

Scootaloo thought back. "…yes."

Vivace visibly sighed in relief. "Then there is hope," she said. She then looked at Sweetie Belle.

No, more than looked.

Glared.

…as would a parent… or lover.

That look would have been intimidating enough from a normal pony.

From Vivace… it was overpowering.

"You are her friend, are you not?" Vivace said.

Sweetie Belle could only nod.

"Then listen to me. Scootaloo is the only hope for this world."

"Wha—?"

Vivace then took a breath. The air in the room seemed to stop, and when she opened her mouth…

"Sweetie Belle. Protect Scootaloo with your life. Promise me you will."

If Vivace had told Sweetie Belle to kill herself in that voice, she probably would have, after a moment's hesitation. But this? Something Sweetie Belle was prepared, in her heart, to do from the very beginning? There was no hesitation at all. It just helped her sharpen the willpower she had into a fine point.

Sweetie Belle also took a breath, and then…

"I will. I promise."

"Very good," Vivace said. "And I assure you Vivace Records will do everything it can to assist you in that goal. Think of it as… an investment in the future."

Sweetie Belle nodded, still not entirely sure what was happening. "But… why? What is Scootaloo? And who erased her memory? And everyone else's memory of her!?"

Vivace was silent. Then, she smiled. "You should be getting the hang of this by now," she said. "Guess."

Sweetie Belle froze.

Now she was sure.

A useless risk…

A lot of power…

The rhythm…

From the very beginning, there was only one answer, wasn't there?

It all came back to her.

All of it.

"So, if we're protecting Scootaloo, that's what we're up against, isn't it?" she seethed. "…Celestia."

"That's right," Vivace said.

Sweetie Belle was silent.

"We'll talk about the specifics later," Vivace said. "But for now, let's settle some more… pressing matters." She turned to Crescendo. "Please escort Scootaloo outside. I think you know why."

Crescendo nodded, and started walking back the way they came. Scootaloo followed, not questioning this.

"What?" Sweetie Belle said. "Why are you—?"

"Don't think I haven't noticed," Vivace said. "…your arousal."

Sweetie Belle blushed. "Er, well…"

"Your mind's more clouded than most ponies that see me," Vivace said. "I remind you of someone, don't I?"

An image of Ditzy flashed in Sweetie Belle's mind.

"Well, sort of, but I…"

Vivace twisted sensually, revealing the presence of… extremities.

Sweetie Belle blushed. A lot.

"Sweetie Belle. I can tell. If you don't have sex with me now, you'll be distracted for weeks. And we need you focused for what's coming up."

Sweetie Belle's defenses were rapidly breaking down. "Bu… how…?"

"Trust me. I've done this before." Vivace smiled, now completely in her element. "Whatever you're imagining doing to me… do it."

Sweetie Belle gulped. She didn't want to be like Rarity, but… well… what was wrong with it, anyway? They were both adults. Both of them consented. Sure, Vivace was a fish, probably like a million years old, and three times bigger than her house, but… compared to most ponies she met…

…there could be a worse way to lose her virginity.

Sweetie Belle blinked. "Okay."

– – – –

Spitfire was having sex, because of course she was having sex.

She laid down on the bed, gasping for air. "Oh my Celestia, that was amazing," she said. "How many more rounds do you think you're up for? Three? Five?"

Her partner had long since given up on the possibility that she was kidding. He tried shaking his head, but through the wheezing, it came out completely nondescript.

"Oh, you can? Very good," Spitfire said, either not noticing or not caring about her partner's condition. She leaned in and licked his face, tasting the salty sting of his sweat. She licked up and up until she reached his eye, and with a practiced mouth, proceeded to lap up a tear.

Then, she noticed his eyes widen, and looked where they looked.

Celestia was at the other end of the room, watching.

"You do realize I can see you whenever you say that, right?" she said, smiling.

Spitfire also smiled. "When I say what?"

"My name."

Spitfire's partner now looked completely terrified. "Bu… wha… Celest… you know Celestia!?"

Celestia looked at him with the kind of expression a sociopathic human might give an ant under a magnifying glass. "Oh my, and you're having sex with a man?" she said. "I could raise your sales tax for that, you know."

"Only by 2.5%," Spitfire said. "I'm only half straight. Can't be too monodimensional."

"Yes, yes, and I never did decide how to count manticores," Celestia said. She looked back at the stallion. "Can't have him bothering us while I give you your new mission, though."

Her horn glowed, the stallion shivered, and then he grabbed the nearest pillow and started humping it like a tomcat in heat, which was just bad foreplay until Celestia caught wind of it.

Spitfire seemed interested. "What is that?"

"Pleasure spell," Celestia said, casually. "He'll probably ejaculate himself to death in about five minutes. Unless you want me to give him infinite cum, which will be a little harder to clean up…"

Spitfire licked her lips. "Who said anything about cleaning up?"

Celestia's horn glowed again. "Done," she said, and the stallion's grinding grew faster. "Anyway, I assume you've heard the rumors about Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo?"

"You did tell me to keep an eye on them," Spitfire said. "They're planning something, that's for sure. Vivace Records is doing all the normal stuff for a press release—including the 'accidental' leaks."

"And? What do they say?"

Spitfire grew serious. "Sweetie Belle's planning to adopt Scootaloo. And Vivace Records is going to support them."

Celestia groaned. "As I thought," she said. "They know too much. And Vivace is taking her first move against me."

"Wait, Vivace is a person?"

"Siren, but yes, basically," Celestia said. "One of my phone tappers caught wind of it a couple weeks ago, and the other sirens squealed as soon as I raped them for a couple days. I can't believe they managed to hide it for me as long as they did, to be honest."

"Should I eliminate them, then?"

"No," Celestia said. "Scootaloo's immortal, for one. Like, me immortal. She can't die, so don't even bother. And if Vivace is who I think she is, she's going to be…" Celestia made an unpleasant face. "…a problem."

Spitfire was a bit flummoxed. "…for you?"

"Let me put it this way," Celestia said. "Let's say a giant whale suddenly got beached and attacked Canterlot. Now let's say someone goes and kills it. Instantly, even. What do you have on your hooves now?"

Spitfire thought. "Er. A dead whale?"

"Yes, exactly," Celestia said. "A giant 200 ton corpse. Even I have to teleport that piecewise. And that's gross. Really gross. I mean, I'm fine with using vivisected ponies as wallpaper, but for everyone else? It looks bad, you know? And if they even fall wrong, there goes half of Canterlot! It's a little arbitrary, but I take a little pride in having my capital city not being crushed to death once a month. That's Ponyville shit."

Spitfire tried to extract a useful lesson from this. "…so I shouldn't challenge Vivace directly?"

Celestia shook her head. "No," she said. "I'll deal with her if it comes to that. And hopefully, it won't."

"…so what do you want me to do?"

Celestia smiled. "Come now," she said, "don't let yourself be bound by mortality. There's plenty of ways of disturbing their plans that don't involve killing them."

Spitfire smiled. "I see," she said. "You want me to torture Sweetie Belle, Scootaloo, and Vivace… without killing them."

"Exactly," Celestia said. "And that's the only condition. Sweetie Belle dying is negotiable, but…"

"…you want her to live to see it all."

"Yes," Celestia said. "If she happens to die when you push her too hard… that's fine. But don't intentionally kill her early on."

"Understood."

"And," Celestia said, turning back, "since I realize this isn't exactly your area of expertise, I've assigned you a partner."

A knife suddenly flew through the air and jammed itself into Spitfire's partner's brain. He died, which was just as well since he was probably going to end up drowning himself in a couple seconds anyway.

Fluttershy said it wasn't her fault, she just tripped.

"Fluttershy!" Spitfire said, salivating. "I've always wanted to work with her."

"Yes, I know," Celestia said. "I realize your time with Wall Breaker… left a little to be desired."

Fluttershy was already at the stallion's corpse. She pulled the knife out and lapped the blood off. She smiled. "READY TO GET STARTED?"

Spitfire, instead of answering, immediately began french kissing her, blood and all.

Celestia smiled. Her wings extended.

And she watched.

She always watched.

– – – –

Sweetie Belle slowly peeked out through the curtain. Now that the event was about to start, there were an absolutely huge amount of reporters and other pond scum there.

She gulped.

"What are you nervous for?" Crescendo said, walking up. "You've been on stage before."

"Yeah, but never for reporters," Sweetie Belle said. "They could eat me alive."

"So could Vivace, and you let her eat you out alive."

Sweetie Belle winced. "Point taken," she said, even though that wasn't actually one of the activities they did.

"You know, I still can't believe you lost your virginity to a fish…"

"Shut up!" Sweetie Belle said, blushing but not terribly angry. She was beginning to gain a little appreciation for how the music industry worked, even if it was mainly a sort of bile fascination.

Crescendo grew slightly more serious. "Besides," she said, patting Sweetie Belle on the shoulder, "you've got a supernatural thing on you that makes everyone think you're normal. What could go wrong?"

That was a really bad thing to say in Equestria.

"I know you want to protect me and all, but I still say adoption is a bit weird," Scootaloo said, now looking around frantically for Celestia to punish them for tempting fate. "I mean, what's wrong with just getting married?"

"It's creepy," Sweetie Belle said, immediately. "We all agreed on that."

"But technically I'm the same age as you—"

"Look," Crescendo said, "when the giant sex fish says something is creepy, it's creepy."

Scootaloo couldn't really argue against that one.

Sometimes Sweetie Belle wondered about her.

Crescendo made a motion that looked suspiciously like checking her watch. "Event's starting now. Better get out there."

"Right," Sweetie Belle said, and looked back.

Crescendo stared at her the best she could. It started shocking Sweetie Belle less when Crescendo got serious. "Good luck."

"Thanks."

Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo walked onstage and were immediately assaulted by a barrage of flashes. They were there just to be annoying. The best newspapers all used sketch artists, since the ponies with cutie marks in art needed something to do.

Sweetie Belle reached the podium and spoke. "Hello everyone," she said. "I believe you all know who I am."

There was a time where someone would have responded to that with "Thrakerzod!" Sweetie Belle was glad those days were over.

She looked at Scootaloo. "You probably don't know who this is, though," she said.

Scootaloo, on cue, waved.

The crowd sat in rapt anticipation of hearing what they already knew.

"As you may know, my sister, Rarity was fond of stallions." Sweetie Belle paused. "Perhaps too much."

There was a light snort from the crowd.

"I hate this part," Scootaloo grumbled.

"Shut up," Sweetie Belle mouthed, and then continued. "…and I think you can imagine it's pretty unlikely she could have all that straight sex and not get pregnant."

Rarity in general was pretty unlikely, but the crowd didn't know that.

Sweetie Belle pointed to Scootaloo. "…I present to you the inevitable result of that."

The crowd gave a remarkably fake gasp.

Scootaloo groaned.

"She's either the son of a random homeless man in Ponyville or Fancy Pants," Sweetie Belle said. Fancy Pants had actually given them permission to use his name for this. He got some kind of enjoyment out of having a bunch of dubious heirs. "Regardless, I feel bad for her, so I'm going to adopt her. And Vivace Records has approved this. Any questions?"

The crowd went wild. This was the only part where they could actually learn anything new.

"Do you think Rarity has any more illegitimate children?"

"Is this actually your child!?"

"Is Vivace a person!?"

"Is it true Vivace Records hosts weekly orgies!?"

"Is this just a cover for marriage!?"

Scootaloo gave Sweetie Belle a look. Sweetie Belle decided to ignore that.

Then, she saw.

At the back of the crowd, standing still, staring at her, was… Spitfire.

At first, she was glaring, but once Sweetie Belle noticed her, she smiled. Then, she turned her head, and gestured towards to the left.

…the side of the stage Crescendo was on.

Sweetie Belle got a chill up her spine. "Yes, no, yes, no, yes, no, no, 15," Sweetie Belle blurted out, and then sprinted backstage.

Immediately, she fell over and shrieked, backing away as best she could in complete horror.

The crowd wondered what was happening. But Sweetie Belle didn't. Scootaloo didn't.

They knew all too well what was happening.

Because there was Crescendo, gutted to the bone…

…and written out, in her blood…

"NICE TRY."

– – – –

The rain beat down on the funeralgoers. No one had any doubt this was intentional.

Crescendo's funeral was better attended than Sweetie Belle expected. Sweetie Belle had often thought of Crescendo as sort of a… well, douche, to be honest. She was loud, promiscuous, and rude, after all. But… she was never mean. She always put her friends first, and she was willing to take quite large risks for them. You couldn't say the same thing about many polite people. Sweetie Belle never realized that… until it was too late.

But maybe that was fine. Maybe… that was what she wanted.

Because the very last thing Sweetie Belle thought about Crescendo was that she was disabled. Blind, yes—but disabled? Never. It was hard for her to even think of blindness as a disability anymore.

Crescendo had conquered that. Completely.

She got to live a quite normal life… with no regrets.

Something Sweetie Belle would probably never have.

She looked down, not particularly listening to the person currently speaking. She would have to say something too. She was one of Crescendo's closest friends, after all.

But it was hard to decide what.

As she thought, she noticed Scootaloo… biting her lip.

– – – –

Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo stayed behind, looking at the tombstone.

"It's hard to believe she's gone," Sweetie Belle said. "…she was sort of like a force of nature."

"There wasn't even much left to bury," Scootaloo said.

"Scootaloo," Sweetie Belle said, slightly sternly.

Scootaloo got the message. "Sorry," she said awkwardly. She looked down. "Sometimes I forget… what blood means to normal ponies."

Now Sweetie Belle felt bad.

They took one last hard look the gravestone, then turned around and started walking away.

"We going to Vivace's afterparty?" Scootaloo said. "It sounds like it's going to be pretty—"

"No," Sweetie Belle said extremely quickly. "I can't believe they're doing that, to be honest. It seems… distasteful."

"But it was in Crescendo's will—"

"Yeah, I know, and I thought she was kidding when she told me about it that one time," Sweetie Belle grumbled. "Look, everyone else can do what they want, but I'm still a bit of a prude, okay? And if I went, it'd be weird, and I know Crescendo wouldn't want me to be there if it'd be weird."

They both stopped.

"…well, Vivace wouldn't, I know that much. Crescendo… well, she wanted me to experiment all the time, but I don't think she ever wanted me to do stuff I actively didn't like…"

"Sweetie Belle," Scootaloo said. "Stop beating yourself up about it." Then she smiled. "Besides, you'll probably get tons of time with Vivace later!"

"Uh… yeah." Sweetie Belle paused. "Wait, who told you about…?"

Then, she saw something, and stopped. It was another person walking towards the tombstone, holding an umbrella.

Scootaloo squinted. "They get here late…?"

"I don't know," Sweetie Belle said. "I think I recognize…" Then her eyes widened, and she froze.

It was Fluttershy.

Scootaloo looked confused. "What? It's just Fluttershy. She's nice." She looked ahead. "I wonder what she's doing here, though…"

"I think she's one of Celestia's henchmen," Sweetie Belle whispered.

"What!?" Scootaloo said. "That's ridiculous! I mean, completely normal! Of course she's a nationalist! …wait."

"…also, she talks too softly for me to hear," Sweetie Belle said. "Can… you understand her?"

"Yeah, of course. She sounds normal to me."

Sweetie Belle shook her head. "Must be some rhythm thing," she muttered. "Listen, if she talks to us, could you translate for me?"

Scootaloo looked a bit confused. "Okay, I guess."

One Fluttershy got close enough to the two, she said hi.

"She says hi," Scootaloo said, awkwardly.

"Thanks," Sweetie Belle said, also awkwardly. She didn't quite want to let out that, to her, Fluttershy's voice not only sounded unreasonably quiet, but also appeared to consist of nothing but demonic curses.

Fluttershy apologized for their loss.

"She apologizes for our loss."

"T-Thank you," Sweetie Belle said to what, from her perspective, was a short but disturbingly detailed description of entrail eating. She tried to act casual. "So… how did you know Crescendo, anyway?"

Fluttershy smiled. She was quiet for a couple seconds.

The rain fell.

Then…

"She killed Crescendo."

Sweetie Belle jolted. "What?"

Scootaloo didn't seem fazed at all. She acted like she had just translated some small talk about the weather.

Fluttershy, however, seemed smug.

She went on.

"She says from now on, this is what our lives will be like. We will always be on the run. If we try to make friends, they will die. There will be no running or escaping. She says she will always find us."

Once again, Scootaloo seemed to have no perception of what she was saying.

Sweetie Belle had trouble believing it. "Scootaloo… are you sure you're telling me what she's saying right?" she said, looking her in the eye.

Scootaloo blinked. "What? Why?"

Sweetie Belle decided to drop it. "Uh… no reason."

Fluttershy decided to resolve the debate herself. She walked over to Sweetie Belle, enveloping her in her umbrella, and whispered in her ear.

"NICE TRY."

Now Sweetie Belle knew. She ground her hooves. It took all her strength to not tackle her then and there. "Why are you here?" she seethed. "To taunt us?"

"YES."

Sweetie Belle looked at Scootaloo.

"DON'T WORRY. SHE CAN'T HEAR US."

Sweetie Belle glared. "So… you're one of the Three," she said. "Celestia's minions."

"THAT'S RIGHT."

"Why?"

"I SAW THE TRUTH."

"Which is?"

"THIS WORLD IS A FAÇADE. A BEAUTIFUL FAÇADE, DESIGNED TO TORTURE US ALL."

Sweetie Belle scoffed. "Spare me your justifications," she said. "Just go, okay? There's nothing we can—"

"PRETTY BOLD TALK, COMING FROM SOMEONE WHO PARTICIPATES IN BESTIALITY."

Sweetie Belle bristled. "Are you talking about Vivace? She may be a fish, but she is definitely not an animal—!"

"I KNOW."

Sweetie Belle stopped. "What?"

"I WASN'T TALKING ABOUT HER. I WAS TALKING ABOUT YOU."

Sweetie Belle froze. She could see what she was getting at, and it wasn't pretty.

"DID YOU REALLY THINK YOU HAD ANY FREE WILL THERE? SHE COULD HAVE CRUSHED YOU LIKE A TOOTHPICK. AND WITH HER MUSK…" Fluttershy breathed in Sweetie Belle's ear a little too closely. "YOU HAD NO CHOICE AT ALL."

Sweetie Belle tried to come back.

"TO HER… PONIES ARE ANIMALS."

…but no words would come.

"AND I'M SURE HER TRACK RECORD ISN'T CLEAN ON THE REAL THING EITHER."

Sweetie Belle shook.

Fluttershy pulled back, and then looked casual again. She told them to have a nice day, opened her wings, and then fluttered away.

"She says have a nice day," Scootaloo said.

"No, she said 'dripping red flesh covered beakers.'"

"…what?"

Sweetie Belle shook her head, shaken. "Nevermind," she got out. "Did you hear what you were saying?"

"What?"

"Fluttershy killed Crescendo."

"What!? No she didn't, she just…" Scootaloo stopped. "Wait, I… no… she…" She looked like she was about to cry. "W-What? No way. I didn't… but…"

"I was right. She's one of Celestia's henchmen… so she has mind control powers that only I'm immune to." Sweetie Belle smirked. "I guess… this is what we're up against."

She started walking off.

Scootaloo shook.

– – – –

Sweetie Belle and Vivace were soaked.

…with water, of course. What were you thinking?

Sweetie Belle panted. "That was, well…"

"Amazing?"

"…yes."

Sweetie Belle paused. She looked awkward. "Is this… too soon?"

Vivace looked amused. "After that afterparty? I don't think so. Besides, it's hard to resist, isn't it?"

It was hard to tell what Vivace was talking about in particular. "What?"

"Being around someone else not on the rhythm."

Sweetie Belle looked up. "Yeah," she said, "I guess it is. I feel like… well…"

"I understand you?"

"…yeah."

Vivace nudged her head closer to Sweetie Belle. "I understand the feeling," she said. "I feel like you understand me as well."

Sweetie Belle became unsure. "Really?"

"Yes."

"You're not just… saying that, are you?"

"No. …why?"

Sweetie Belle tried to think of something to say, something other than the truth, but failed.

"Something's bothering you," Vivace said. "I can tell."

"I…"

"You can tell me. Trust me."

Sweetie Belle swallowed. "It's just… after the funeral, I bumped into Fluttershy…"

"Yes, and she taunted you. You've told me that."

Sweetie Belle looked at Vivace. "I didn't… tell you everything she said, though."

Vivace braced herself.

Sweetie Belle winced. "She said… our relationship was… like… like… a relationship between a pony and an animal."

Vivace chuckled a bit, and almost looked relieved. "Why, because I'm a fish? Trust me, I may not have fur, but I'm more than sentient enough to—"

"No, I mean… from your perspective."

Vivace looked confused. "From my perspective? What do you—?" She stopped. "Oh. Oh."

Sweetie Belle looked down. "Just how much… do your physical and mental abilities exceed mine?" she said. "I mean, yeah, I was attracted to you, but you've practiced attracting ponies for like, a million years. You knew just the right things to say, just the right things to do… you even emit pheromones." She blinked. "Did I… even have a choice?"

Vivace paused. "You're worried that this…" She gestured. This… isn't real?"

"Yeah. …sort of."

Vivace then winced, and looked a bit depressed. "You're worried… I'm some sort of serial rapist."

Sweetie Belle got flustered. "No! I mean, well… I…"

Vivace shook her head. "No, it's fine," she said. "I'm glad you're thinking about it seriously. Sometimes I wonder myself, to be honest."

Vivace paused, thinking about what to say. "Did you have a choice?" she said. "Yes. Because I gave you a choice. Remember what I said to you, the first time?"

Sweetie Belle thought back. "'Whatever you're imagining doing to me… do it.'"

"That's right. And I say that to everyone." If she could blush through scales, she would have. "I mean, of course I say it as husky as possible, which usually gets people going, but trust me, there are a lot of ways I could… coerce ponies. And I don't. I made that choice long time ago." She looked down. "It's actually not natural for sirens, you know. We're designed to seduce. We can take charge of just about any situation, make people… do just about anything, really. And they'll be happy about it."

Sweetie Belle was getting worried. "And how do I know you didn't do that to me?"

Vivace thought about it. "I guess," she said, "you really don't."

Sweetie Belle was silent.

"Sorry, but I have to be honest," Vivace said. "We are that good. And I… had some falling outs with my sisters over it." She looked back, at her body. "But, well… they never had to deal the sheer, well, size I have my disposal. It changes things." She shook slightly. "I saw what some of the other old ones did with their power, when they were alive. It… wasn't pretty."

Sweetie Belle looked down. Something was still bothering her.

"Is that… enough?"

"I think so," Sweetie Belle said. She opened her mouth. "I just… you're so big and strong and smart and…" She laughed nervously. "You don't really look at us like animals, do you?"

Vivace paused, and looked Sweetie Belle in the eye. "Would it matter?"

Sweetie Belle was silent.

"If I thought of ponies, and other species as animals… pets, even, what would that mean? That I would want nothing but to use you for my own gain?" Then, Vivace stopped. "No, maybe it would," she said, leaning back, sullen. "But… my own gain is your happiness. I want to shelter you from the world. Protect you. Maybe too much. And maybe I view you all as too disposable. …but I think every being with a life as long as mine goes through that."

"But Celestia…"

"Let me tell you a secret about Celestia," Vivace said. "She doesn't think of ponies as having inferior minds. She enjoys breaking them specifically because of their sentience. She doesn't even really like torturing animals." She shook her head. "And I know what you're going to say. She's done that a lot. But trust me, for her, doing something for even 1% of her life is… a lot."

Sweetie Belle looked out at the slowly rippling water, thinking about what she just heard.

Suddenly, a question that had been nagging Sweetie Belle in the back of her head for quite a long time rose to the surface.

"Er, how old is Celestia exactly?"

Vivace opened her mouth, as if she was about to confidently answer, but then she stopped, and looked vaguely unsure. A couple seconds later, she looked downright worried.

Luckily, she was saved by an intruder.

"Vivace!" they yelled, running across the catwalk. "We got a situation!"

If they had risked coming down there during Vivace's "private time," it must have been serious. "What is it?" Vivace said, tensing up.

"It's… it's that child, Scootaloo. She's gone!"

"What!?" Vivace yelled. For the first time since they had met, Sweetie Belle saw Vivace angry. "What were you doing!? You were supposed to be watching her!"

"Er, well, I…"

"Who took her!?" Sweetie Belle said, shaking the pony. "Tell me, who was it!?"

"I, uh…" They tried to compose themselves. "She did. Scootaloo took herself."

"…what."

– – – –

Apparently, after looking serious for a long time, Scootaloo had suddenly pushed her bodyguard to the ground and jumped straight out the closest window. Once outside, with hundreds of glass shards embedded in her fur, she ran off as quickly as she could.

Obviously, she wanted to get away.

Why?

Sweetie Belle wished she could have known. She should've been paying more attention. She should've watched her more. At the funeral, she seemed bothered…

No, it was too late to think of that.

Sweetie Belle asked Vivace if she could think of any place Scootaloo would go to hide. Any place that was important to her. Something that might have survived the memory wipe.

Vivace almost answered, but then she pointed out something.

What places were important to her when they were friends? That was more recent.

And then it hit Sweetie Belle.

She stopped running, panting, and looked at the overgrown, decrepit building in front of her.

The CMC clubhouse.

It was a hunch, but it was the most important place for them for a very long time.

And inside…

She could hear the faint sound of whimpers.

Was it Scootaloo? There was only one way to find out.

Sweetie Belle slowly walked up the wooden stairs up to the clubhouse, hoping they didn't creak, or worse, collapse with age. She didn't want to risk calling out and scaring Scootaloo away—if it was her.

Finally, she reached the door. After taking a breath… she pushed it open.

And she could see, in the center of the room, Scootaloo, looking more pathetic than she had ever seen her. Her fur was matted with blood, and still perforated with glass shards. She was curled up, almost in the fetal position, shaking and crying, although it seemed the tears ran out long ago.

"S-Scootaloo?" Sweetie Belle said. "What are you doing here?"

Scootaloo winced.

Sweetie Belle approached her. "Come on, come back with me. Everyone's worried…"

"NO!" Scootaloo screamed, and Sweetie Belle stopped in her tracks. "Just… leave me alone. Please."

Sweetie Belle stopped, trying to think of what to say. "…why? Scootaloo, why? After everything we've done to protect you… why?"

Scootaloo looked down. "I'm sorry, but… that's why."

"What?"

"Everything you've done to protect me," Scootaloo said. "It's pointless. In fact, it's worse than pointless."

Sweetie Belle nervously laughed. "That isn't—"

Scootaloo looked Sweetie Belle in the eye, filled with sadness. "You're mortal, and I'm immortal. Nothing can change that," she said. "How can you 'protect' me from anything? The best you can do is be a meat shield for me. And I don't even need a shield! If there's an attack, you're going to die, not me. If anything, I should be protecting you. And I just can't deal with it anymore."

Sweetie Belle paused. "Is this… about Crescendo?"

"Yes, it's about Crescendo!" Scootaloo yelled. "She could have lived such a long, fulfilling life. But what did she do? She associated with me, and bam! It all ended. And I can't live knowing that that's going to happen over and over again." Scootaloo looked outside. "So, from now on… I'm gonna be alone. I can handle it. I'm sure. That way… I can stop anyone else from being hurt."

Sweetie Belle thought about it. She wasn't sure about this, but… something was bothering her. "Are you… sure?

Scootaloo stopped. "What?"

"If you run away… will that really stop anyone from being hurt?"

"It will stop me from…"

"That's what I mean. Will it stop that?"

Scootaloo hesitated. "Well, Celestia will…"

"Do you think that'd stop her?"

"I…"

Sweetie Belle let her adrenaline get the better of her. "Scootaloo, I think I'm beginning to get an idea of how Celestia thinks, and it doesn't end well for you," she said. "She wants you to be miserable. And that's going to apply whether you're with us or in the wilderness or whatever. If you run away, who's to say you aren't going to get our heads mailed to your doorstep one day?"

"That's…"

Sweetie Belle touched Scootaloo's shoulder lightly. She didn't quite want to hug her—not with all those glass shards. "We can't let Celestia win," she said. "As long as you're miserable… she wins. If you run away, isolate yourself from civilization… she wins. After all this… all we sacrificed… do you want Celestia to win?"

Scootaloo was shocked, but then, she ground her teeth and glared. "No."

"Then come back with me."

Scootaloo looked like she was almost considering it. "But… you could…"

"I know what the risks are," Sweetie Belle said. "I was willing to give my life for you from the beginning."

Scootaloo looked like she was having a hard time comprehending this. "But… why?"

"Because… even if you don't remember…" Sweetie Belle's voice broke. "We were friends."

Scootaloo was silent.

"…so? Will you come back?"

Scootaloo hesitated. "I… I just don't want…"

Sweetie Belle shook her head. "No, don't think that," she said. "We're all willing to…"

"That's not it." Scootaloo looked at Sweetie Belle. "I… don't want to be some helpless damsel in distress, okay? You're all putting your lives on the line for me. I don't want to just sit back and do nothing."

"Then don't."

Scootaloo looked surprised. "What?"

Sweetie Belle thought about it. "You said you should be protecting us, right?" she said. "Well… why not?"

"I…"

"I mean, you are one of the five immortals, right?"

Scootaloo gaped.

And then, she smiled.

"…you know, I guess I am."

– – – –

Outside, Spitfire twitched, shaking the branch her and Fluttershy were listening from.

"That's…" she said, sounding a bit worried. She turned to Fluttershy. "Is she?"

Fluttershy nodded.

"So… we're up against another immortal now?"

Fluttershy merely smiled.

"THIS IS FINALLY GETTING INTERESTING."

– – – –

The crowd cheered. Sweetie Belle bowed, not a trace of humility in her.

"I can say anything I want and you'll still love me!" she yelled into the mic.

The crowd just cheered harder.

Sweetie Belle waited a few seconds for them to quiet down, then tapped the mic.

She sang.

To nearly everyone in the audience, it seemed as if time itself had stopped. They would come to their senses a few minutes later, not entirely sure what happened, only that it was euphoric.

What did the exception do?

Stand in the back. Watching.

He was a human with a thick beard and glasses and plaid shirt. He squinted at the stage, looking for her.

The orange filly. Scootaloo.

Everyone else had forgotten about her. In particular, the two scientists he was working with. And when he tried looking her up, he found that all the paperwork about her had mysteriously disappeared.

Except for a few choice documents in the bowels of Corvorum Crepusculum's archives.

When he showed that to the higher-ups, they suddenly became much more interested. A fifth immortal? One much more easily accessible than the royalty? And one that had the power to make the entire world forget about them?

This was the biggest lead they had found in their entire history.

And they would have her.

– – – –

Sweetie Belle walked backstage, exhausted.

Scootaloo clapped with enthusiasm usually reserved for US Congress. "Another good show," she said. "I've been wondering just how much you could get away with."

Sweetie Belle quietly dreaded this part. "I'm just running out of ideas," she said. "No matter what I do, they react the same way. Gotta spice it up somehow."

"Yeah, but singing 'FYI I wanna F your—'"

"So!" Sweetie Belle said, cutting her off. "…any security problems?"

Scootaloo gave her a look, but then collected herself. "No," she said. "There was a human in the back giving you stinkeye the whole time, but, er, after that concert there could have been any reason for that…"

"I get the picture," Sweetie Belle snapped. She shook her head. "It's strange. Why hasn't Celestia or her cronies attacked us yet?

"I don't know," Scootaloo said. "She's usually pretty open, but now, it's been years since we've heard from any of them."

Sweetie Belle froze. "You don't think… she's planning something big, do you?"

Scootaloo shrugged. "Maybe she just heard I was becoming head of security here and got scared."

Sweetie Belle knew she was joking, but couldn't help but think there was something to that. Having a previously powerless immortal suddenly gain a large number of friends and followers might have been enough to rattle Celestia. And neither of them knew everything about Scootaloo's immortality. Maybe there was some good reason Celestia was biding her time…

– – – –

"You failed to get into Vivace Records?" Celestia said, pacing, looking confused. "Again?"

"Well, 'failed' isn't completely accurate," Spitfire said, a bit nervous, but composed. "You said you didn't want us to make a scene when dealing with Vivace Records, and, well… getting in would have made a scene. The best way in we could determine would have required significant brute force."

"You've had years."

Spitfire sighed. "Yes, and we could just storm the place if you gave authorization, but…"

Celestia shook her head. "No, no, keep it discreet," she said. "I really don't want to deal with Vivace trashing Canterlot. Right now the benefit doesn't outweigh the risk."

Spitfire perked up. "But eventually it could…?"

Celestia bit her lip. "Keep a brute force plan in reserve, I'll say that much," she said. "Any new information, at least?"

Spitfire got serious. "Nothing too concrete. They've been pretty tight lately. But we heard a rumor… one that confirms Fluttershy's suspicion."

Celestia stopped. "You don't mean…"

"Vivace Record's security likely improved when Scootaloo became the head of security." Spitfire looked down. "Some disgruntled ex-employees were complaining about taking orders from a child and… we connected the dots."

Celestia grit her teeth, and ground her hooves on the floor. It shaved off some of the wood. "And? What about that other organization? Corvorum Crep… Crepus…?"

"Corvorum Crepusculum?" Spitfire said. "There's no evidence anyone there has remembered Scootaloo. They've been staking out Vivace Records and tailing Sweetie Belle a bit, but they could have any reason for that. I mean, they're celebrities. We could infiltrate them deeper and find out for sure, but…"

"No, it's fine," Celestia said. "In fact, pull out of Corvorum Crepusculum. I'll assign a lower-level operative to keep me posted on them. We need to focus on this threat, especially when they've displayed no intent to harm me."

Spitfire visibly relaxed. "That should make things a bit easier."

Celestia looked out the window and smiled bitterly. "This is anything if not boring," she said. "Why did you have to do that, Luna…?"

Spitfire had no idea what that meant.

Celestia turned back. "Listen, this will either resolve itself in a few days or everything's going to shit," she said, looking uncharacteristically serious. "Storming Vivace Records is a real possibility, although I hope it doesn't come to that. Let me put it this way—in my entire long life, nothing like this has ever happened before."

As pep talks went, that was probably the worst possible. Spitfire was sweating.

Celestia noticed, and turned around and licked it off Spitfire's face. "…but let's not think about that right now. Get Fluttershy out here. I need to fuck."

– – – –

A few days later, it happened.

Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo were having a late night snack when suddenly, at the stroke of midnight, everyone just stopped. And, just like before, Sweetie Belle seemed to be the only person conscious of this.

"H-Hello?" she got out, looking around. All the other ponies around her had frozen in place, as if time had stopped. The only thing that gave away that time was, indeed, still moving, were the slight twitching one could observe in their muscles. Their heads, in particular, twitched the most, and their eyes seemed to have trouble focusing.

But when Sweetie Belle turned her head back to Scootaloo, she saw the worst of all.

Scootaloo looked like she was in pain. Her body was convulsing, and her mouth hung open, not even in a scream, just catatonic. Her eyes rolled up, and it seemed they would soon roll back into her head.

"Scootaloo!?" Sweetie Belle yelled, and grasped her closer. And as soon as Scootaloo touched Sweetie Belle's fur…

…it stopped.

Scootaloo went back to normal, breathing heavily, clearly shaken. Everyone else, however, continued to be still. Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo kept holding onto each other, not sure what else they could do.

After a half minute passed, everyone else returned to normal, and the world seemed to turn right again.

Sweetie Belle slowly let go of Scootaloo, neither sure it was safe to yet. When they separated, though, nothing appeared to happen.

Scootaloo still looked shaken. "Wha… What was that?" she said.

Sweetie Belle could not find the words. "I… I don't know," she admitted. "Are you okay?"

"Dear Celestia I have a headache," Scootaloo said, grasping her head. "…and I feel a little… hazy. But I think… I'll be fine."

"Good," Sweetie Belle said, relaxing a bit. "You were looking pretty bad there."

Scootaloo looked a bit worried. "I was?"

"Yeah. You were shaking, and your eyes were rolling back in your head…"

Scootaloo looked down, not really sure how to respond to that. "…huh."

"I remember… this happened before," Sweetie Belle said. "…the day I found you."

Scootaloo froze at that, and slowly looked up at Sweetie Belle. "The day I had amnesia?"

Sweetie Belle saw what Scootaloo was getting to, and a bead of sweat dripped down her face. "Yeah."

They looked at each other, and without saying a word more, got up from the table and started running.

Spitfire, a few tables away, got up to follow, but was stopped by a hoof on her shoulder.

She looked up. "Celestia!?"

The entire restaurant panicked with as much composure as they could muster after Celestia appeared out of nowhere like that. "Tell me," Celestia said, looking down at Spitfire with eagle eyes, "did it work?"

Spitfire hesitated, not quite sure what that meant. "Did… what work?"

"Did Scootaloo… forget?"

Spitfire, as was normal for these type of situations with Celestia, guessed. "…no," she said. "She said she had a headache but… that was about it."

Celestia froze, her fur standing on end.

Lately, she had seemed a bit uncharacteristically frazzled, but this was the first time Spitfire had ever seen her scared.

"I'll handle them. Destroy Vivace Records," Celestia said, eyes wide. "Now!"

And then Celestia, in what would forever go down in that restaurant's history, opened her wings and rocketed out the front door, taking most of the wall with her.

– – – –

"You think that was an attempt to wipe your memory?" Sweetie Belle said as they ran.

"I'm sure of it!" Scootaloo said. "If you hadn't have stopped it just in time, I'd probably be a vegetable by now!"

"How do you know!?"

Scootaloo looked a little unsure. "I… I don't know. My head feels a little hazy, but…" She paused. "I think… I'm remembering a few things too. Like—"

Before Scootaloo could finish, however, she was crushed to a cinder by a royal hoof with the agility of a hawk.

Celestia looked up at Sweetie Belle from the small crater she had made with no small amount of bloodlust. Her horn began to crackle.

In that split second, Sweetie Belle's fight or flight instinct kicked in, and she wisely decided to reconsider her policy of not teleporting within Canterlot.

– – – –

She quickly regretted this.

Immediately after teleporting, Sweetie Belle found herself in a pitch black, constricted space filled with… some kind of viscuous liquid. It quickly constricted more, and she was forced into it. After some struggling, she popped back up for some air, but a wave of fluid quickly forced back down again.

She grimaced, knowing that was what she got for not imagining a specific place when she teleported…

She tried to struggle some more, but the fluid was too thick to swim easily in. She tried to charge up her magic, but was having difficulty, when she noticed…

The constrictions came in a pattern, and with a sound.

Coughing.

And she saw a faint light.

As much as she could, she pushed herself in that direction, and pressed herself against the walls to trigger a gag reflex. After a particularly violent shudder, a strong wave of fluid pushed her up, and she was thrown with great velocity onto something metal.

"Agh!" Sweetie Belle seethed, wincing. The hard impact hadn't done her any good. More importantly, though, she had to figure out where she was. She looked around, and quickly came face-to-face with…

…a very confused, still coughing, Vivace.

"I-If you were into that," she got out, still gagging, "you c-could've just said so…"

Sweetie Belle quickly regained her composure with the infinite power of being pissed off. "Celestia's ground Scootaloo to ashes and tried to kill me!" she screamed. "She might be after us next!"

Vivace stopped. "WHAT!?"

Immediately afterwards, there was a loud scraping sound, and the elevator down to Vivace's tank fell down the chute, crushed into scrap. Some thick rubble from the ceiling came to finish the job.

Sweetie Belle turned. "What was that!?"

Vivace froze. "The failsafe," she said. "It blocks the entrance to this place. The secretary's trained to use it if Vivace Records is ever… attacked."

"So we're trapped in here!?"

"Not for long," Vivace said, grimacing. "If Celestia's attacking us, it's only a matter of time before she drills her way down here." She ground her teeth. "I never thought she'd actually…" She whipped her head at Sweetie Belle. "What happened!? Why did she attack you two!?"

Sweetie Belle thought as quickly as she could. "I don't know! Right before that, everyone just froze, and Scootaloo started shaking, and I grabbed her and it just… stopped."

Vivace's eyes widened. "What?"

"I don't know what happened either. Scootaloo said it was an attempt to… erase her memory."

"And did it work!?"

"No. She said… she had a headache but… she was starting to remember some things."

Vivace looked shaken. "I see," she said. "I can see why…" She shook her head.

Sweetie Belle wanted to ask more, but knew there was no time.

"Listen," Vivace said, looking at Sweetie Belle. "This is going to sound ridiculous, but… if we're screwed anyway, why not try to strike back?"

– – – –

When Spitfire and Fluttershy arrived at Vivace Records, Celestia was already there and had plastered everyone in the reception room all over the walls.

She looked back at them, almost completely coated in blood.

Fluttershy let out an extremely inappropriate sigh of ecstasy.

"Find Sweetie Belle and Vivace, but don't kill them just yet," Celestia ordered. "I have something important I must attend to."

She looked at the still beating heart in her hooves and teleported away.

"What's got Celestia rattled?" Spitfire got out. "I've never seen her like this."

Fluttershy said she didn't care, and licked some entrails off the walls. Then, her ears perked, and her head shot up. She sniffed a few times.

She smiled. "THERE'S STILL PEOPLE HERE," she said. "LET'S INTERROGATE THEM."

– – – –

In a pitch black room deep in the bowels of the Canterlot Castle dungeon, Celestia had Scootaloo tied up.

Scootaloo was wheezing. Even for an immortal, being ground to dust that many times took a bit out of you. It hurt. "What… are you doing… Celestia?"

Celestia was burning some complicated looking diagrams into the floor with magic. The room was filled with the smell of burning asphalt. "What I should've done a long time ago," she said. She stopped, and looked up briefly. "You were right, you know. That incident was supposed to erase your memory."

"So I… know something I shouldn't?"

Celestia smiled bitterly, and got back to work. "Yes, that's right," she said. "Something that could unravel everything I've worked for."

"Can't you… just make me forget it?"

Celestia made eye contact with Scootaloo. "Oh, I am," she said, "but the nature of what you've begun to grasp means I have to be a little more… thorough than usual."

"What… do I know?"

"Who you are."

Celestia then finished drawing one last line, looked over her work, and ignited it with a magic spark. Like a giant fuse, it made a glow spread throughout all the lines, until finally, the glow went up into Scootaloo's body and…

…did nothing.

Or perhaps that's a little misleading. It caused her mind to become nothing—-completely blank. She hung there, limp, hardly moving a muscle.

At a regular interval, she twitched slightly.

Celestia smiled.

She exited the room and looked at the very confused guard outside. "Leave her in there for a year, then do whatever you want with her. Just make sure she doesn't leave the castle. Ever."

The guard nodded.

Celestia looked up, and decided to cover all her bases. "And if anything weird happens, and she gets out, say my name five times a second for a minute and my global surveillance magic will tip me off. Sound good?"

The guard looked a bit worried at that. "Global surveillance…?"

Celestia patted the guard on the back. He winced. She might have broken a rib, but she didn't really care. "Glad to know you've got my back!" she said, and walked away.

The guard didn't dare move away from the room.

"That should keep her at bay for the time being," Celestia muttered as she walked through a flesh wound and potted plant. Her peace was short-lived, though, for as soon as she got anywhere close to the normal wings of the castle, a stressed looking messenger ran up to her.

"What is it!?" she snapped, seeing how clearly they wanted to speak with her.

"P-Princess," they got out, and bowed. "I have important news. There's… er… Canterlot's…"

"Spit it out!"

The messenger cleared his throat awkwardly. "There's, uh, a giant fish slithering through Canterlot and crushing a bunch of buildings." He paused. "…and possibly violating public decency laws while she's at it."

"She?" Celestia paused, taking this in. "…fuck."

– – – –

"…we found Vivace," Spitfire said sheepishly.

Celestia was having a very long day. "Very impressive, Spitfire," she got out. "Very impressive."

Vivace was slowly crawling through the edge of Canterlot, heading towards the castle. The citizens had plenty of time to run. She was not exactly built for land travel. And…

"Is she… humping that building?" Celestia said, incredulously.

Spitfire could not think of anything useful to say. "…yes. I believe she is."

Fluttershy, with her deep knowledge of animal biology, confirmed this.

"I see," Celestia said.

They hovered above the scene for a minute, watching.

"So, like, is this part of your plan?" Spitfire asked. "Because you specifically told us to avoid this happening."

"Luna plans. I just do stuff and see what happens," Celestia said. "I thought you realized that by now."

They watched some more.

"This is part of her plan," Celestia said. "She wants to distract us."

"Yes, and it's working," Spitfire said, blushing.

Celestia cleared her throat. "So, have you found Sweetie Belle yet?" she asked the two of them.

They both shook their heads. "We've been looking through the streets, but we haven't seen anything," Spitfire said. She looked down. "Also…"

"I get it, I get it," Celestia said. She looked down at Vivace again and started muttering. "She knows too much, I have to kill her. But if I kill her, I can't fuck her, and she's the last of her kind. But if I fuck her then kill her, it'll be a bitch explaining that to PR…"

Spitfire raised an eyebrow. "Celestia?"

Celestia clopped her hooves together. "That's it!" she said. She turned to Spitfire and Fluttershy. "Evacuate everyone from Canterlot as quickly as possible. That will make me look responsible and give us some privacy! And if Sweetie Belle's hiding out around here, she'll stay behind and get easy to find!"

Fluttershy nodded, and immediately started zipping off and yelling at people. Spitfire hovered for a little longer, looking disappointed.

It took Celestia a second to understand what she was getting at. "…and after you've gotten everyone out here, you can help me… 'restrain' Vivace."

"Yes sir!" Spitfire said, and sped off as well.

– – – –

"ATTENTION EVERYONE!" Fluttershy screamed, making everyone in a mile radius go silent. "YOU ARE ORDERED TO IMMEDIATELY EVACUATE CANTERLOT! PROCEED IN AN ORDERLY FASHION TO THE SPECIFIED EXITS! REMEMBER, RICH PEOPLE FIRST!"

"Why are we evacuating!?" someone yelled back. "I have a business to run!"

Fluttershy narrowed her eyes and punched them in the face. "BECAUSE OF THE GIANT FUCKING FISH FUCKING THE CITY, YOU DENSE MOTHERFUCKER! NOW MOVE!"

As the crowd filed out, Sweetie Belle nervously hid among them, covering her face with a hood she had stolen from someone. So far, Vivace's part of the plan was going perfectly. She was right—there was no way Celestia was going to kill her immediately. And she was only thing in this world that could possibly distract Celestia for that long. Yes, Spitfire and Fluttershy would be after Sweetie Belle, but with Celestia out of the picture, everything became much easier.

Not to mention, Vivace said fucking a city had always been on her bucket list.

So there was that, too.

Vivace seemed to be taking the prospect of her impending death quite well. She even joked that Celestia might choose to keep her alive after all, as a sex slave or something.

But the chance of that was slim. She simply knew too much about the alicorns and Scootaloo to be kept alive. She knew her days were numbered ever since Celestia found out about her existence.

And she might as well go out with a bang.

While she had moral reservations about fucking a city, Sweetie Belle could basically get behind that.

Unfortunately, that meant everything was now up to her.

Sweetie Belle's only hope was to find Scootaloo. Somehow. There was no way grinding Scootaloo into fine ashes had killed her—Sweetie Belle had personally witnessed her survive worse than that.

Vivace said Celestia was likely keeping her constrained somewhere deep in Canterlot Castle. And she probably had some type of magic on her, to make up for the memory wipe not working. It would be nearly impossible to find her, but there was one good thing about Canterlot Castle—once you got in, it was very difficult to get out. And finding anything specific? It could get annoyingly hard even for Celestia and Luna.

Even if Sweetie Belle couldn't find Scootaloo, staying in Canterlot Castle was probably her best chance for survival in general.

And with her ability to manipulate the rhythm, perhaps she could do more than just survive.

When she saw a good opportunity, Sweetie Belle broke from the crowd and ran the opposite direction, towards the castle, trying to take cover when she could.

Fluttershy pretended she didn't notice.

– – – –

Celestia landed on Vivace's nose, because that was pretty much the only place she could land and have Vivace hear her.

"You know, for a while there, I was thinking of ignoring you, since you'd be a pain to kill," Celestia said. She looked around at the carnage. "…but then you became a public menace."

Vivace tried, and failed, to cross her eyes to see Celestia. She smiled anyway, and tried to look confident. "Why? Am I breaking any laws?"

Celestia shrugged. "Only property destruction, actually."

Vivace stopped. "Wait, no public decency laws?"

"Those are just an urban myth. I make up laws as I go, but I never make a law I know I'll break."

Vivace looked disappointed, as if she missed out on some opportunities in life.

Celestia laughed. "You know, I bet you told your disciple something noble, like that you were going to distract me while she ran away," she said. Celestia leaned into one of Vivace's eyes, giving her the first clear look at her face. "But I know the truth. You just wanted an excuse to fuck this city, didn't you?"

"I'll admit, that was part of it," Vivace said, angling herself at a particularly good-looking spire. "And I didn't hide that from her at all."

Celestia was actually a little surprised. "Really?"

"It's a gamble, we both know that. We both decided to end our lives with the least regrets possible," Vivace said. "…and you know what? The fact remains that even though you figured out our plan, you're still here, distracted."

"Don't get too cocky," Celestia snapped. "She still has my two best after her." Celestia hesitated. "Well, just Fluttershy in a bit, but I think that's more than enough."

"One against one? And they both can control the rhythm? I like the sound of those odds," Vivace said. "…I never thought you'd let yourself go so much, Celestia."

Celestia shrugged. "Times have changed," she said. "I'm no longer interested in victory. Just relieving boredom."

Vivace sneered. "If you really want to relieve your boredom, why not bring her back?"

Celestia twitched. "That's different," she said, hesitating. "Scootaloo's too much of a wildcard even for me. And she'd end the game. Twilight won't like it, but I'm sure she'll participate when she realizes how necessary it is. And when she realizes it can work in her favor…"

Vivace cut her off. "Doesn't change the fact that you're scared of another immortal who has the exact same abilities you do," she said. "Tell me, does she really know some deep dark secret about you, or are you just afraid of her because she's the only immortal you've met with a backbone?"

Celestia grimaced. "You're pushing your luck, Vivace."

Vivace curled around a church tower and wrapped herself around it as if she were… nevermind. "What can I say? I want to die without any regrets," she said. "And I know that no matter what I do, I'll never be as much of a monster as you."

Celestia, with excessive agility, jumped off Vivace's nose and hovered next to her other eye. "Don't you moralize to me," she seethed. "I wonder what your little disciple would think if she learned what you used to do. Even the other sirens were disgusted." She narrowed her eyes. "This isn't even the first city you've screwed, you sick fuck. And you made sure the other ones were full of people."

Vivace shivered, her coils tightening, unable to argue.

"And you always find a way to start up a little cult, don't you? Even after you 'reformed,' you fucked everyone in that building on a practically daily basis, didn't you? I don't even know how you fucking talk anyone into it. One small move and, crack, there goes someone's neck! I'm sure you told everyone you had complete control over yourself, but I wonder just how many crushed ponies you had to cover up? I swear, it's like puppy rape without any of the good parts."

"I never… realized you cared," Vivace said, shaking and gasping.

Celestia narrowed her eyes. "Listen bitchfish, it may not seem like it, but I have a very simple standard of morality!" she yelled. "I've noticed, in my very long life, that the morality of any given action tends to be inversely correlated to the amount of blood and cum you have to clean up afterwards!" She paused. "And by that standard, you've been a lot worse than I have in the same amount of years!" She looked back, at the crushed buildings. "I mean, fucking hell, how am I supposed to clean that slop up!?"

"Sell it as a delicacy?" Vivace offered.

"That's Lyra shit," Celestia snapped, and then stopped, mumbling. "…wait, no, the rich people here will buy just about anything, and their sick tastes almost exceed mine…" She looked back up. "Okay, so I have a profitable and efficient way to get rid of your mess! My point still stands!"

The tower collapsed, and Vivace landed to the ground with a much too practiced grace. She looked Celestia in the eye, laying it on thick. "You know, I always thought you were cute when you were angry," she purred.

Celestia blushed more than she had in a couple thousand years. "Oh fuck am I glad I kept you alive."

At that, a bright orange-yellowish blur sped towards them. "Princess, I've evacuated the—!"

Vivace casually swung her tail and slammed Spitfire into the ground, instantly killing her.

Celestia blinked, not used to seeing such casual disregard for life from anyone but herself.

"I've been waiting for this day for a hundred thousand years," Vivace purred. "Mortal pets are nice, but I'm tired of holding back." After noticing Celestia gaping, she added, "And this will make things easier for Sweetie Belle, of course."

Celestia smirked. "You sick bastard," she said. "Fuck me now."

– – – –

Sweetie Belle ran through the empty streets.

If the sounds she was hearing were any indication, Vivace had Celestia sufficiently distracted.

"DON'T GET COCKY," a voice said, and as Sweetie Belle turned to face it, a knife missed her nose by a hair. As it wobbled in the wall, Sweetie Belle gaped at it, then looked at its source.

"YOU CAN'T EVEN HEAR THE RHYTHM, CAN YOU?" Fluttershy said, holding some more knives in her wings. "THIS WOULD GO A LOT EASIER IF YOU COULD."

Sweetie Belle smiled, trying to be confident. "Where's Spitfire?"

"PROBABLY HUMPING THAT FISH," Fluttershy said, shrugging. "I CAN SEE THE APPEAL, BUT SHE'S NOT REALLY MY THING. TOO BIG FOR ME TO HURT."

Sweetie Belle twitched. "And you made fun of me for sleeping with her?"

Fluttershy smirked. "THAT'S RIGHT," she said. "I COULD SENSE VIVACE WAS A PERSON LIKE ME."

Sweetie Belle ignored that, and got serious. "So… it's just you and me."

"THAT'S RIGHT."

There was a tense silence.

"So, what do you want?" Sweetie Belle said. "Celestia tried to kill me. You here to finish the job?"

"NO, SHE WANTS YOU ALIVE," Fluttershy said. "I KNEW SHE WASN'T THINKING CLEARLY WHEN SHE TRIED TO KILL YOU."

"…right," Sweetie Belle got out, unconvinced.

"…BUT YOU GOT AWAY ANYWAY, DIDN'T YOU?"

Sweetie Belle swallowed.

"I EXPECT YOU TO PROVIDE ME WITH A SIMILAR AMOUNT OF ENTERTAINMENT."

There was a whoosh, and all the knives in Fluttershy's wings jammed themselves into the wall.

Sweetie Belle, however, was gone.

Fluttershy smiled, and took to the air. Sweetie Belle was already around the next corner, and quickly running closer to the castle.

Sweetie Belle looked up while running. "I thought you said Celestia wanted me alive!" she yelled.

"CELESTIA HAS A VERY GENEROUS DEFINITION OF 'ALIVE,'" Fluttershy said, and swooped down.

Sweetie Belle, continuing to run, dodged. Fluttershy, undeterred, swooped down a few more times, and Sweetie Belle, each time, dodged perfectly, with the minimum amount of motion.

Fluttershy was a bit surprised, but not unhappy about it. "INTERESTING," she said. "CAN YOU SEE THE RHYTHM?"

Sweetie Belle was silent.

"NO MATTER. I'LL—"

Then, something unexpected happened.

Fluttershy crashed into a concrete bridge hanging over the road.

She didn't fall down to the ground, but it left one hell of a mark, on both her and the bridge. Rubbing her head, Fluttershy's eyes went wide.

"DON'T TELL ME SHE CAN…" she got out. Then, she looked around, and noticed Sweetie Belle was nowhere to be seen.

"SHIT," Fluttershy muttered, and took to the skies to find her again.

– – – –

Vivace was breathing heavily, lying sprawled out over what used to be about five blocks. Her whole body heaved with the motion.

Celestia leaned against Vivace's coils, pretending to pant. She found it helped the mood.

"You planning… to fuck me to death?" Vivace got out.

"Maybe," Celestia said, smiling. "I hope you have no objections to that."

"No," Vivace said, "none at all."

Celestia sauntered over to Vivace's face and rubbed her nuzzle against it. "Oh, how I love a mortal who knows their place," she purred.

Then she stopped, noticing something. She backed away from Vivace's jaw, and looked it up and down. "Wait, I could have sworn…"

She got close to it again, and measured something with her hooves. Then, she opened her wings, hopped on her nose again, and walked around frantically, looking down the whole time.

"Bu… wha…?" Celestia got out. "That's… how…?"

Vivace smiled.

– – – –

Fluttershy was on the ground, looking everywhere… manually.

She was pissed. Pretty pissed at Sweetie Belle, but mostly at herself.

Sweetie Belle was the only being in the world that could manipulate the rhythm at will. Oh, the Three could take advantage of specific parts of it, but not all of it, like she could. Sweetie Belle, even when she was almost completely untrained, was able to recode how the entire world thought of her.

And she probably had trained more since then.

Celestia had no idea how much Vivace or anyone else at Vivace Records knew about the rhythm, but it was probably best to assume the worst.

Sweetie Belle could likely hide her presence, and she could likely disrupt the Three's abilities. At the very least, she could probably send out some vague distortions to disorient them. That was likely the reason Fluttershy crashed into that bridge. According to Celestia's explanation of the rhythm, that sounded like just the kind of trick she'd be perfect at.

So, Fluttershy had only one choice.

She exhaled, extended her wings, closed her eyes, focused, and sniffed.

She tasted the air, focused her hearing, felt the wind cross over her fur, let her wings feel the tiniest pinpricks of air pressure, and sifted through the cacophony of scents that went through her nose.

Fluttershy by no means depended on her abilities to manipulate the rhythm. She had no choice—after all, animals weren't affected by it. Even before her mind snapped, she could sense the world around her like a hawk. She only appeared so nervous because she was so alert.

But after the snap? When she gained the confidence to grasp the world with her own two hooves? Her nearly omnipotent predator instincts awoke for real. She had hunted with wolves and she had hunted down wolves, using nothing but the senses every pony was born with.

Unlike the other Three, having her special abilities taken away did not leave her powerless. Not at all.

She searched her senses for the tiniest change that would suggest the presence of a person. If the city were crowded, this would have been impossible, but here, alone?

There was a chance, just a small chance…

Fluttershy's eyes shot open. She looked at a window in the distance.

She wasn't sure, but she felt a light breath come from inside.

She ran to the source.

– – – –

"You're bigger!?" Celestia yelled. "How the hell are you bigger!? After losing all that body fluid!? It's impossible. Completely impossible. Conservation of matter and all that nonsense…"

Vivace started laughing hysterically.

"Oh shut up!" Celestia yelled. She started muttering. "Calm down, Celestia. Calm down. You violate the conservation of matter. It's obviously not impossible. I'm seeing it before my very eyes. There must be something about siren biology…" Celestia started pacing, feeling like she was missing something. "Okay, sirens are like changelings, they feed on love instead of…"

Celestia's face fell.

Vivace started busting up.

"Oh medammit," Celestia grumbled, grinding her feet into Vivace's forehead. It wasn't doing much.

"You forgot… literally… the most important part… of siren biology!" Vivace got out, between giggles. Then she started laughing hysterically again.

"I was wondering why you were so okay with me fucking you to death," Celestia said, narrowing her eyes. "You knew I'd just fatten you up with my sexual energy, didn't you!?"

Celestia flew back to a particularly thick part of Vivace's body and punched it with what, to her, was medium strength. So, enough to break every bone in a dragon's body, but not quite strong enough to pulverize them into dust.

There was a light wiggling sound.

"Siren fat is some of the toughest in the magical animal kingdom, you know," Vivace said, smug. "It's magic resistant, can only be cut by diamonds, and doesn't decay for thousands of years. And if men lick it, it increases their performance tenfold." She thought. "I'm pretty sure the griffons still use it as part of their body armor, even though it makes the locker room hijinks kind of weird…"

Celestia flew in front of Vivace's face and started making ragefaces. "Just how fat are you!?"

Vivace put a claw to her chin in mock thought. "That layer you just hit there?"

"Yeah!?"

"8 feet thick."

"…….."

"…last time I checked. I was curious and wasted some of the Vivace Records money to find out. To get through the scales, we had to—"

Celestia facehoofed. "I… don't want to know," she said, her voice quavering. "Just tell me… how much did I fatten you up?"

Vivace looked back, presumably comparing landmarks. "Well, the streets were that big, and I was that big… so…" She turned to Celestia again. "I'm about 1.5 times as large now. No idea how much I weigh, though. I've been too big for any scales for the last ten thousand years…"

Celestia's horn glowed and some numbers appeared in front of her face. "You're at least a hundred thousand pounds. I have some magic to keep track of matter distribution in Equestria. It's necessary to keep this world in running order."

Vivace was silent.

Celestia started looking irritated as more numbers floated around her. "Let's see, if you weigh 100,000 pounds, and I can teleport roughly 500 pounds at a time, depending on density…"

"Wait, you can't actually teleport all of me at once!?" Vivace said, laughing. "I thought you were all-powerful and stuff!"

"If you try to teleport more than about a ton at once, there's a high risk you'll make the matter unstable and explode," Celestia grumbled. "It's a physical limitation that most mortals don't notice because it's impossible for for them to work up that much magic. Now, since your fat is magic resistant, I'm just arbitrarily assuming I can only transport 500 pounds of you at once…"

Vivace thought about it. "Nah, it's pretty tough. I'd say more like 300 pounds."

The numbers shifted. Celestia was pretty sure Vivace was bullshitting at this point, but wanted to figure out the worst-case scenario. "Okay, so according to my calculations… After I kill you, I'll need to make…" Celestia twitched. "334… round trips… to teleport your body out of here."

"Where are you planning on putting the pieces?" Vivace said, enjoying this.

Celestia was doing more math. "I'm beginning to think outer space," she grumbled. "That's probably the only way to fucking kill you. And then, that way, when your fat burns up as it falls through the atmosphere, couples can make wishes on the shooting stars and have amazing sex or something." She noticed Vivace was staring at her. "Oh, I forgot, do you know outer space is real? I think you came before that… or did you?"

Vivace kept staring. "Tell me, do you need your horn to focus magic?"

"Yeah," Celestia said, still looking down at her numbers. "Everything but the useless stuff, like walking on clouds or whatever the fuck earth ponies are good for. Why?"

Celestia then noticed a shadow, and looked up.

She was promptly flattened to a pancake by 100,000 pounds of Vivace.

Who then proceeded to come down crashing on that spot at two second intervals.

– – – –

Fluttershy briefly wondered what that loud thumping sound in the distance was, but quickly focused.

Of course, Sweetie Belle had moved as soon as she noticed Fluttershy coming. But she still had to be inside this building. Fluttershy definitely would have heard her teleport away, and the only exit she could use was the front door, which Fluttershy was next to.

Sweetie Belle was likely, like everyone, afraid to teleport within Canterlot. Good choice. Everyone thought Celestia had teleport scrambling magic applied throughout the city, but the truth was, she didn't have to. Teleporting anywhere near the castle was a nightmare anyway, because the thing didn't obey the laws of Euclidean space. Pretty much any given space in Canterlot occupied a part of the castle in another dimension. If the wavelength of their molecules shifted a little bit, they'd probably find themselves in the Royal Swimming Pool.

So, for now, Fluttershy could be assured Sweetie Belle would stay in roughly the same place.

She stalked around the building. It was some rich person's house—likely one of the few remaining ones after Vivace's mess.

The floors were black and white checkered marble. The walls were gray with a hint of blue. Complicated insets adorned them. The ceilings were raised, and a chandelier hung from the domed roof. Everything looked aged, though, as if the house had been uninhabited for quite a long time.

Considering Celestia was responsible for most of the building design, Fluttershy wondered if something was up with that.

Then, she heard something, and focused. A light tap had come from the second floor. Slowly, Fluttershy extended her wings and hovered up the stairs. It was more difficult to move precisely like that, but for climbing stairs? She would be unnoticeable to anyone but a pegasus that way.

Once at the top, she landed, and lightly approached the door she thought she heard the sound from.

As she suspected, she heard some subtle breathing inside.

Fluttershy had considered plugging her ears, but was beginning to be glad she hadn't. It was likely Sweetie Belle's ability to disorient her was done through song—light humming, perhaps—but Fluttershy's hearing was the one sense she was very dependent on.

It could make her vulnerable, though.

So, quickly, powerfully, Fluttershy tackled the door, burst it open, and rapidly looked around.

In seconds, she heard something, felt dizzy, and was immediately assaulted by searing hot water.

She recoiled, and attempted to dodge, but it continued to spray her. She squinted one of her eyes open, and saw Sweetie Belle's magic aura around a showerhead, but as soon as she noticed, Sweetie Belle jammed the showerhead down Fluttershy's throat. In the split-second Fluttershy winced from her entire mouth being flooded with boiling hot water, Sweetie Belle grabbed a nail clipper, rushed Fluttershy, and stabbed deep into the nerves of her right wing.

Fluttershy let out a gurgle, but before she could react usefully, Sweetie Belle roundhouse kicked her into a wall, grabbed a vase, and bashed Fluttershy over the head with it.

Fluttershy briefly slumped, but this wasn't enough to take her down. Sweetie Belle couldn't maintain her rhythm disruption through all this, so Fluttershy could focus now. She managed to spit out the showerhead, briefly spraying Sweetie Belle with the searing water as it spun around on the floor, and while Sweetie Belle was distracted, Fluttershy lunged and pinned her to the ground.

Fluttershy panted, her wings erect—although she cringed as her right wing refused to bend right. "OH YEAH," she said, her voice sounding noticeably raspier, "DO IT ROUGH, LIKE ANGEL BUNNY."

Fluttershy had intended for this to make Sweetie Belle hesitate in disgust, but as soon as she saw the look in her eyes, she realized what a mistake that was. Sweetie Belle immediately headbutted Fluttershy in sheer rage and pinned her to the floor.

Sweetie Belle also panted, mostly from the physical exertion. "You're a sick depraved bastard, you know that?" she got out.

Fluttershy ignored that. "SINCE WHEN WERE YOU SO NIMBLE?"

Sweetie Belle scoffed. "You seen my stage choreography?" she said. "Not to mention, we anticipated having to deal with you. Vivace taught me martial arts the entire time I was working with her."

Fluttershy raised an eyebrow. "HOW? SHE DOESN'T EVEN HAVE LEGS."

Sweetie Belle grimaced. "Let's just say I can successfully choke-hold you with my tail," she said, "but it would probably just get you off." Then, she narrowed her eyes, and put her face close to Fluttershy's. "Besides, Crescendo helped."

Fluttershy cracked a smile. "SO LET ME GET THIS STRAIGHT… YOU LEARNED KARATE FROM A CRIPPLE AND A FISH?"

Sweetie Belle glared at her, then used her magic to turn the showerhead towards Fluttershy's now bad wing. Even Fluttershy winced in pain.

"I can fight you in this pitch black bathroom," Sweetie Belle seethed. "I think it worked out good enough."

Fluttershy got out a laugh. "CAN'T ARGUE THERE," she said. "MAYBE YOU SHOULD BE THE NEXT MEMBER OF THE THREE."

Sweetie Belle was silent. "If I'm going to go through hell," she said, slowly, "I'm certainly not going to do it for Celestia's sake."

"BUT YOU WOULD FOR THAT FISH?"

Sweetie Belle got close to Fluttershy's face again. "I'm doing this," she said, "for Scootaloo."

Fluttershy tried to take advantage of the moment to kiss Sweetie Belle and distract her, but that scene had ran its course in too many of Sweetie Belle's nightmares to work. Sweetie Belle, out of reflex, jammed her horn down Fluttershy's mouth and blasted paralysis magic through her body.

Sweetie Belle quickly backed away, shaken. She started laughing nervously when she realized she had successfully paralyzed Fluttershy. "Word of advice," she said, "don't give unicorns access to your orifices during a fight."

Fluttershy twitched slightly and wheezed, having difficulty breathing when her throat was paralyzed the hardest.

Sweetie Belle walked over and tapped Fluttershy's bad wing, just to be sure. Fluttershy did nothing more than gurgle a bit. "You'll be out of action for a couple hours, at least," she said. "If you get a strong enough shock, you'll snap out of it, though. I'm not going to risk trying to kill you—I'm sure I'm pushing my luck enough as it is. But…"

She stomped on Fluttershy's wing a few times, breaking the joints, then grabbed a vase with magic and slammed it on top of it.

Fluttershy gasped and made a few laborered breaths, but not before Sweetie Belle did the same thing to the other wing.

Fluttershy was now breathing heavily, her throat less paralyzed but still unable to move.

Sweetie Belle looked down at her. "…that should… weaken you a bit."

Fluttershy desperately tried to speak. "…H… HOW…?"

Sweetie Belle smiled grimly. "All the unicorns at Vivace Records are taught that trick to resist sexual assault. Jam your horn into their throat, you have access to their entire nervous system," she said. "I'm sure Celestia never teaches you that trick, though. According to her, there is no such thing as sexual assault, is there?"

Fluttershy was silent. "Y… YOU'LL… NEV—"

"Never make it into the castle?" Sweetie Belle said. "Well, not through the front door I won't. But I never planned on getting in the castle through the front door. I just ran that way to throw you off track—and to keep an eye on you. Plus, I needed to make sure a certain thing would work."

Fluttershy's eyes widened as much as they could.

Sweetie Belle stepped back and looked around. "I've always heard Canterlot Castle's bigger on the inside than the outside," she said. "We're pretty close to the castle, so that means in some fold of space, there's probably a room of the castle right here, isn't there?"

Fluttershy was silent.

"Right after I teleported into her throat by accident, Vivace told me that's why teleporting in Canterlot is so hard, and why so many people, when they try, end up in some random part of the castle," Sweetie Belle said. "And the way she described space folding to me… all I have to do is teleport to the same place I'm standing now, and suddenly I'm pretty deep in the castle, right?"

Fluttershy almost blinked.

Sweetie Belle laughed ruefully. "Of course, it's pretty risky. Maybe I'll end up teleporting halfway into a wall or something," she said. "But this has been an all or nothing gamble from the very beginning, and I'm sure finding you or Celestia this distracted is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity."

Fluttershy was silent for a bit, then opened her mouth again. "…TRY IT."

Sweetie Belle looked surprised. "What?"

"YOU… WON."

Sweetie Belle was silent. "And here I was thinking you were going to try to distract me by saying something disturbing," she said. "Thanks, I guess. If you stop raping small animals, I might even apologize for breaking your wings."

Fluttershy let out a laugh.

Sweetie Belle glared, and then looked ahead. "I have no idea how my life turned out like this." She then focused lit up her horn, and disappeared. It wasn't like a normal teleport, though—instead, the world around her seem to fold like origami and suck her in.

Fluttershy looked vacantly ahead.

"IT'S IN… YOUR BLOOD."

– – – –

Half an hour later, Celestia finally managed to crawl out from under Vivace's body slams.

She immediately screamed and tied Vivace's body to the ground with magic rope that enveloped her within seconds. She didn't use paralysis magic because she wanted Vivace to be able to talk.

Vivace smiled. "You know, I keep trying these things just for the hell of it, and I keep expecting them to not work, but then you keep falling for them, over and over again," she said. "Why didn't you just Royal Laser Beam my heart from down there?"

Celestia was breathing heavily, clearly pissed. "I… don't… know!"

"Do you even know where my heart is?" Vivace purred. "Well, it's probably best for me to not tell you. If you have to guess, maybe I can drag this on a little longer. Who knows where Sweetie Belle could have gotten to by now?"

Celestia twitched.

"But you can probably see how bad of an idea it would be to go after her and leave me alone, right?" Vivace said. "If I'm alone, there's nothing stopping me from, say, going into the castle and fucking everything I can see." She smiled. "If I'm already a pain in the ass to deal with, imagine trying to deal with me in all those space folds. Not to mention, I'm sure you've got some things in the dungeon that could fatten me up just as much as you. I wonder what would happen if I grew so big I made the castle burst?"

Celestia blanched. "You're monologuing."

"Yes, and it's amazing just how little of this situation that changes, isn't it?" Vivace said. "You've screwed up so bad that even knowing my complete plan isn't going to help you. Not to mention, Sweetie Belle has a plan too, although that mostly consists of being more competent than you probably give her credit for. Face it: your only option is to kill me as fast as possible and go after Sweetie Belle. And considering what you know of siren biology, I think she's got quite a bit of time. I can only hope you have some kind of castle-wide tracking system to find her. If you had to manually search the place, that'd be pretty funny."

Celestia seemed to make a composed decision to not address that. "You're right," she said, cringing. "It's time for me to get serious." She smiled. "You probably should have just shut up, though."

Vivace frowned. "I can only base my plan on you being an idiot for so long, Celestia," she said. "If the other shoe's going to drop, I might as well control when."

Celestia smirked. "It's a shame, you know," she said. "I don't think I've had a mortal set me back this much since Obama. If you were on my side, you would make an excellent addition to the game."

Vivace lidded her eyes slyly. "Why don't you make me immortal and find out?"

Celestia considered it for about half a second. "No. You're too fat, for one. You can't lose or gain weight when you're immortal," she said. "Plus, it's risky enough when you do it to non-female ponies. Just look at what happened to Starswirl. He became Discord. I couldn't even keep it hidden… what an embarrassment."

Vivace just about did a spit take. "Wait, Discord is Starswirl!?"

Celestia blinked. "Yes, but of course, it's not recorded in any of the history books. …I guess you came after that, then?" she said. She looked vaguely disappointed. "And here I was thinking you knew everything."

Vivace looked worried. "So did I."

Then Celestia got a sinking feeling. "How old are you, exactly?"

Vivace also got a sinking feeling. "We're… about the same age, right? 100,000 years? I witnessed you come to power, after all."

Celestia froze.

Then, she twitched, a small smile coming to her face. Then, she laughed hysterically for minutes, her voice echoing off the mountains.

When Celestia finally made eye contact with Vivace again, Vivace finally got a full taste of Celestia at her most sadistic and aroused. "Oh have I got news for you," she purred. "You know about what we call the game, right? Well, it didn't start when you think it did. You see, I'm not even…"

– – – –

After teleporting, Sweetie Belle immediately found herself submerged in water. Her first instinct was that she accidentally teleported into Vivace's throat again, but she quickly realized that wasn't the case—she could actually see, for one.

And there were fish.

Who were quickly advancing on her.

Sweetie Belle tried to get away, but was too slow. Then, she realized they weren't trying to attack her—they were pushing her to the surface.

In a few seconds, she was able to raise her head and gasp for air. And then, a hoof reached out and helped her to land.

It was a much more welcome greeting than she was expecting for infiltrating Canterlot Castle, that was for sure.

She looked at who it helped her to the surface. It was a female zebra. "Thanks," Sweetie Belle got out.

"No problem," the zebra replied.

Sweetie Belle looked around, trying to get her bearings. She appeared to be in some type of garden, filled with all kinds of animals, plants, and individuals of different species frolicking around with both. She looked at the water she came from—half of the room was devoted to a large swimming pool, and was filled with different types of fish and sealife. She saw that the two fish that had rescued her were dolphins, and behind them, she could've sworn she saw a small siren… and seapony.

There was definitely a giant squid in there, though.

"Where am I?" Sweetie Belle said. "I'm in Canterlot Castle, right?"

"That's right."

Sweetie Belle looked up. "Is this the Royal Arboretum or something?

"It's the Royal Harem, sweetie."

Sweetie Belle looked confused. "Then what's with all the animals and…?" Realization dawned. She noticed that the people were doing quite a bit more than frolicking. "Oh. Oh."

The zebra gave Sweetie Belle a moment. "Your ruler has quite… varied tastes."

Sweetie Belle stared at the dolphins. "…dolphins?"

"I believe you're familiar with that type of attraction."

Sweetie Belle blushed. "How do you—?"

"We know who you are, Sweetie Belle," the zebra said. "The tabloids made sure of that."

Sweetie Belle was embarrassed, but continued. "Then do you know why I'm here?"

The zebra shrugged. "Not really," she said. "But if you want to unwind, you can. Anyone who ends up in this room automatically becomes part of the—"

Sweetie Belle had a feeling she didn't want to hear the end of that sentence. "Listen," she said, "I need to find an orange filly. The fifth immortal. Celestia tried to erase her memory, and she's probably got her somewhere in this castle. Do you know where that would be?"

"Probably somewhere in the dungeon."

"Thanks," Sweetie Belle said, and then realized who spoke. She turned to the water.

"'Sup," one of the dolphins said.

"You talk!?" Sweetie Belle yelled.

"Celestia's genetics experiments, baby," the other said, far too smoothly. "You only hear about the failures, so no one knows how good she is at it."

"Most of us have been… enhanced in some way or another," the zebra said, looking aside. "Usually just an increased libido, to make sure we can match up with the Princess and stand out like a sore thumb if we try to escape to the outside world." The zebra looked a bit proud. "Some, like me, though, are completely artificial lifeforms."

Sweetie Belle just about had a heart attack. "What!?"

The zebra laughed. "Don't worry, I'm not a robot or anything," she said. "I was just grown in a fake embryo, like the batponies. Completely customized to Celestia's whims. Quite a few of her creations don't even know about it, but there's a way you can tell. You see, they always move sort of off, like—"

"Why are you telling me this?" Sweetie Belle said, getting uncomfortable. "Isn't Celestia going to… get mad?"

The zebra shook her head. "We have one duty," she said. "To fuck her. The other laws don't apply to us." She smiled, disturbingly like Celestia. "And like Celestia… we want to keep things interesting."

Sweetie Belle shuddered. "So… you'll help me?"

The dolphin nodded. "Yeah, I'll tell you how to get to the dungeon, and where she probably has that filly trapped," he said. He then seemed to wink at her. "But there's a price."

Sweetie Belle looked down, and her face sank.

"Come on," the zebra said, patting her on the shoulder a little too tenderly. "It'll be fun!"

Coming from a being that was likely engineered specifically to be kinky, that did not comfort Sweetie Belle. "…I'm gay?"

The other dolphin eyed her. "Who said anything about it just being him?" she purred.

Sweetie Belle facehoofed. "Why does it always comes down to this…?" she grumbled.

– – – –

"…and that's the secret of life, the universe, and everything," Celestia said, pacing around dramatically.

Vivace could do nothing but gape.

"So, you see," Celestia said, "anytime anyone even tries to pin my age at a specific number, I know they're full of shit. I don't even know."

Vivace's eyes were wide, and she was struggling to speak. "That… that can't be…"

Celestia flew close to Vivace's eye. "Oh, it can," she said. "What you witnessed is far beyond what most mortals have, but you don't even know the half of it. I've watched civilizations fall, countries implode, millions die. The only reason I was disgusted by your antics was the extra work I had to go through to clean them up. And even everything you did today, one of the best mortal attacks on me in recent memory, served nothing but to irritate me."

"It seemed… to do more than that."

Celestia shrugged. "I miscalculated how much damage you could do, but really, think about it. How much of anything you've done today is going to impact me for the rest of my life? It will probably take me about a week to dispose of your body, but after that? I'll probably just forget about it like another Tuesday."

"If we get Scootaloo back… you won't."

Celestia glared. "You're right," she said. "But don't worry, like you said, I have a foolproof way to kill you—one that I know your siren biology won't screw with, and one that will make your body a little easier to dispose of as well."

Celestia's horn glew, Vivace's body glew, and Vivace gasped. Her body started gyrating under her restraints, shivering as she had trouble speaking.

"Wha…?"

"Infinite orgasm spell," Celestia said, smiling. "It usually kills ponies in half an hour, but with you, who knows? It may take a week. It should thin you up a bit, and, as you so brilliantly suggested, give me more of your fluid to sell for a ridiculous profit. Although, of course, as you can imagine, 'profit' has no real meaning to me anymore. For me, the 'profit' will be in laughing at people actually drinking the stuff."

Vivace tried to glare, but not before another wave of pleasure overtook her.

"And the best part of this is the you can't plan anymore. In an hour, you'll be completely incapable of coherent thought. I guarantee it. And won't that be fun?"

Celestia's horn lit up again, and there was a shimmer around the borders of the city. "I'm not even going to bother to undo your restraints, because I'm sure you're going to burst out of them. When you do, feel free to destroy the city. I'm going to have to make a new one anyway, so why not go all the way? Go on, rape every building, leave your mark on every square inch. I encourage you. I even put a force field around everything, so don't need to hold back one bit. Go on, become the animal you are, Vivace. You wanted to do this, remember?"

Vivace tried to lunge for Celestia, but not before Celestia smiled once more and teleported away.

– – – –

As Sweetie Belle dived into an encyclopedia, it occurred to her that she had never actually had sex with a pony.

That depressed her a bit.

She had to admit, fish weren't bad, but she was still going to die technically a virgin.

Unless Celestia… did stuff to her before she killed her.

She hoped that didn't happen.

She tapped a combination into a picture of a keypad drawn with a felt tip pen on a curtain made of discarded Donut Joe's napkins. She had to admit, so far, the dolphin's instructions seemed to be legit. While she did wish he had used a different body part to demonstrate the specifics, she had to admit, it made everything easy to remember.

Then, she ran through the curtains, finding herself at a large, dark spiral staircase descending downwards. She jumped down the center, slowing her movement with telepathy at the bottom, to land safely.

She was at a large set of double doors.

The dungeon.

This is where the dolphin's instructions sort of ended. You see, not many people try to get into Celestia's dungeons. Even the most dedicated rebellion groups gave up their members for dead if they ended up there.

So, security was pretty light. The entrance didn't even have a lock. Sweetie Belle pushed open the door, not even using magic, and was greeted with a scene that looked disturbingly like the traditional depictions of Tartarus.

There appeared to be no ceiling or walls. Just blackness. All there was were pieces of floor that appeared to be floating, occasionally splintering off into torture exhibits. It was hypothetically possible to see the entire dungeon complex at once, and boy was it big. What Sweetie Belle could see stretched at least as big as Vivace's tank, and when she looked down she realized this was only the top of 50 floors.

Sweetie Belle gulped. She didn't know if there was any way she could search all this before Celestia found her. And even if she did, she had no idea how she would get out.

After testing to make sure her magic still worked—it seemed like Celestia to disable it here—she jumped down to the floor below this one, then the floor below that one, and so on.

If Scootaloo was "deep in the castle," as everyone suggested, it seemed likely she was at the bottom of the dungeon, not the top. It was a whim, but plausible enough that it at least made sense to search from bottom to top instead of vice versa.

The only downside was, as Sweetie Belle jumped down the levels, the torture exhibits became more and more grotesque.

There were ponies with their innards being eaten by birds, clearly not completely immortal, but being kept alive somehow. There was a pony who did nothing but roll a giant boulder up a slope with someone else watching him. There was something happening with ants. And that was just the ponies. Individuals of every species were locked up here, and some were mutilated enough they didn't resemble anything in particular. What seemed to be failed crossbreeding experiments ran rampant. Bizarre crosses between griffons, dragons, and timberwolves ran between the displays. Demented combinations of humans and ponies walked around naked. One said "kill me" repeatedly, the other one just appeared to be horny.

There might have been a connection between those two events.

In the distance, on one floor, Sweetie Belle could have sworn she saw three sirens, much smaller than Vivace, but clearly fattened up. She almost wanted to meet them, but knew she didn't have the time. She jumped down to the next floor.

What disturbed Sweetie Belle more than the displays, to be honest, was how disturbed she wasn't at seeing them. She had heard over and over again that seeing the dungeons was enough to drive a pony insane, but here she was, just casually traversing every single level. She was almost surprised at how tame some of the exhibits were.

Someone tied to a wall with their only sustenance small dog bowls of water just out of reach? Rarity did that. Someone strapped to a surgical table with needles sticking out of their skin everywhere? Diamond Tiara did that. Someone getting molested by fish? For Sweetie Belle, that was literally five minutes ago, and occupied little more of her mind than a mild inconvenience.

Just how far gone was she if the largest torture facility in the entire world left her completely unfazed?

On one hoof, it seemed like Equestrian society was contrived from the very beginning to prepare her for this moment. Why else would learning about dungeons be required in school, after all? But on the other hoof, she took the final step herself. The teachers said everything wrong with the world was normal, but not everyone bought into that. For most ponies, it just scared them into not getting on Celestia's bad side. The most depraved students, like Diamond Tiara, were only trying to follow Celestia's example—likely also out of fear. But only Sweetie Belle was actually beginning to take what she was taught at face value.

The torture of the world was starting to seem genuinely normal to her.

For the first time, of her own volition, Sweetie Belle wondered…

Was she a demon?

Something seemed to snap in her mind, the world seemed to shift, and the thing she knew, she was on the bottom floor of the dungeon.

This was the only floor in which there were no visible exhibits. Only rooms. Locked down rooms.

Presumably, where Celestia keeps the prisoners she wants to make extra sure don't escape.

There was one prominent looking one in the center, with a nervous looking guard pony in front. He kept trying to massage his stomach.

Good as place to start as any.

Sweetie Belle walked over to him, oddly slowly. She felt as if her body was a puppet controlled by strings. For some reason, she suddenly felt overwhelming confidence. It felt possible to do anything. She made eye contact with the guard, focusing slightly, and he began to cower.

Sweetie Belle said to open the door.

The guard seemed to have to physically resist obeying. He was mumbling something to herself. "Celestia Celestia Celestia Celestia Celestia Celestia Celestia Celestia Celestia Celestia Celestia…"

Sweetie Belle sauntered closer. She said, again, to open the door.

The guard winced, and let out a noise. "CelestiaCelestiaCelestiaCelestiaCelestiaCelestiaCelestiaCelestiaCelestiaCelestiaCelestiaCelestia!"

And then, Sweetie Belle felt it. A pressure she had never felt before, but now seemed so obvious.

She turned around, and saw that Celestia was right behind her.

"Checkmate," Celestia said.

Sweetie Belle stood her ground. "What took you so long?" she said.

"Just having some fun with your friend, Vivace," she said, circling Sweetie Belle.

Sweetie Belle circled Celestia in the opposite direction, almost bumping into her. "I guess we were in over our heads after all."

"That's right," Celestia said. She decided not to mention the fact that Vivace's body slams had bought Sweetie Belle exactly the amount of time she needed to get down here, Sweetie Belle was directly outside the room housing Scootaloo, and that once inside, she could have disabled the magic on Scootaloo by making a small crack in the magic rune on the floor. "You did the best job you could."

"It was an all or nothing gamble," Sweetie Belle said. "I don't have any regrets."

Celestia smiled. "I appreciate that," she said, "and I'll reward you for it."

"Will you spare my life?"

Celestia scoffed. "Oh no," she said, "you're much too dangerous." She looked down at Sweetie Belle. "But before you die, I'll tell you the answers to all the questions you've had through your life."

With a flash, both of them teleported away.

The guard collapsed, breathing heavily.

– – – –

Celestia and Sweetie Belle both appeared in a steampunk-y looking laboratory, with boiling chemicals and body parts everywhere. Behind Celestia were large tanks, with what appeared to be fetuses inside.

"First of all," Celestia said, "the reason you're so comfortable with torture, so able to predict me, and so disconnected from the rhythm is that you are technically my great-granddaughter."

Sweetie Belle's confidence pretty much went out the window when she just about did a spit take.

Celestia looked at the tanks behind her. "Alicorns are sterile, but anyone can make artificial lifeforms with magic," she said. "Some unicorns have even stumbled on how to do it accidentally." She smiled. "You can imagine what I've done with them."

Sweetie Belle blinked, as she thought back. "Wait… does that mean…?"

"You catch on quick," Celestia said. "Remember how your family tree appeared to start from nowhere, from a pony that seemed to have no other interest than fucking anything that moved?"

Sweetie Belle's face fell. "My family… started from one of your escaped harem members, didn't it?"

Celestia clopped her hooves. "That's right!" she said. "Good old Cock McBigBalls. Although it sounds like he made up some different names for his adventures outside."

"Mike Hunt," Sweetie Belle said, staring blankly, finally getting the joke. "That's the name he gave my great-grandmother. Mike Hunt."

"Oh, good one," Celestia said. "I see I taught him well." She started pacing. "Anyway, artificial lifeforms interact pretty strangely with the rhythm, which is why everyone in your family seems to have a curse. They just move in a way that unconsciously arouses everyone else's suspicion. That's also why the curses seem to get more mild with each generation—every time natural ponies get mixed into your gene pool, those side effects get more mild. It would probably take at least 10 generations to make them unnoticeable, though."

"So that's why Rarity was so kinky," Sweetie Belle said, deadpan. "She was descended from a sex robot."

"Speak for yourself," Celestia said, smirking. "If you didn't have that blood in your veins, do you think you would have keep up with Vivace so well, and been so okay with what you did with those dolphins earlier?" She looked to the side. "Not to mention, it's hard to avoid putting a bit of yourself into your lifeforms. I'd like to think the quick planning that got you here came from me as well."

Sweetie Belle didn't really want to think about that. "You and Vivace keep mentioning this 'rhythm,'" she said. "What is that?"

Celestia's wings splayed. "I'm glad you asked."

– – – –

The next thing Sweetie Belle knew, they had teleported to the top of a cliff facing the ocean.

Sweetie Belle shivered as the wind buffeted her. "What does this have to do with the rhythm?" she yelled.

Celestia, as usual, looked completely unfazed. "It will show you one of the reasons why it's necessary, and why it works," she said. "Turn around."

Sweetie Belle did as she was told, expecting to see more ocean. But instead, she came face-to-face with…

…sky.

"What?" Sweetie Belle said, looking back and forth. "But… that's…"

"Welcome to the edge of the world," Celestia said, and then took a step through the sky and disappeared.

Sweetie Belle hesitated, but after a second, she followed her, and nervously took a step through herself.

On the other side, she was greeted with the most hellish looking landscape she had seen. She was right—compared to this, the dungeon was tame. The sky burned with glowing yellow clouds sending lightning out at random times. And the landscape? It was clearly made out of rubble. Sweetie Belle could clearly make out the edges of buildings, pieces of objects. This was a place people once lived—decimated. Even though nothing living was visible here, it was clear that whatever used to exist in this world had suffered some of the worst fates in creation.

"Welcome," Celestia said, "to the real world."

Sweetie Belle looked behind her, and saw the edge of Equestria's sky again. She looked up.

It was a dome. And not a terribly big one, if she could see the edges of it even from here.

"What you know of as Equestria is an artificial environment I designed to protect you from this," Celestia said, gesturing. "It's a glorified bomb shelter, basically. And I have complete control over every variable inside. I can decide everything from the weather to the exact colors on a small portion of the horizon. Night and day change when I switch a picture on the dome's surface. The exact makeup of the atmosphere is up to me too—I could flood every drop of air with poison if I wanted."

"What does this have to do with the rhythm?" Sweetie Belle asked, gaping.

"Didn't you hear me? I have control over every variable inside," Celestia said, smiling. "Including the minds of everyone inside that thing."

Sweetie Belle's eyes widened. "Then the rhythm is—!?"

"That's right," Celestia said. "The rhythm is just the mind control magic I have wrapped around that entire world. And magic, you see, leaves a lot of fingerprints. Long-running, automatic magic like that in particular can be quite imperfect. It usually doesn't operate continuously—it wanes in and out slightly, at the beat of the brain energy of the caster."

Sweetie Belle swallowed. "Then what we call the rhythm is actually… your brain waves."

"My brain waves when I originally cast the spell, but basically, yes."

The two were silent.

"Now, artificial life forms and partial artificial lifeforms, like you, throw off the mind control magic," Celestia said. "Why? I don't quite know. Maybe it sees that you have some of me in you and skips over your mind. Maybe lifeforms made artificially don't have souls or something. I don't know. But regardless, you're not controlled by the mind control magic. And when everyone else is controlled by mind control magic, what do you think happens?"

"Because the mind control magic wanes according to your brain waves, they are all moving to a 'rhythm,'" Sweetie Belle said. "But I'm not."

"Exactly," Celestia said. "On a microsecond level, you move slightly differently than everyone else in the world. Since you, and you alone have free will, there's no order to your movements. On an unconscious level, they see that you don't follow what, to them, are unbreakable laws of the universe. So what happens?"

Sweetie Belle looked down. "They start making random guesses as to what's wrong with me," she said. "Like that I'm a demon. Or robot."

"Yes. At least, that's what happened for a while," Celestia said. "But then you ran into Vivace. She didn't know the details, but she knew that, for some reason, ponies operated on a rhythm. Any siren would, with their hypersensitivity to music—that's why I eliminated most of them."

Sweetie Belle cringed.

Celestia continued. "The only reason people thought you were a demon was that you were off from rhythm in a very unstructured way. It turns out, though, if you break from the rhythm in a more structured way, you can manipulate how other people perceive you. It's a pretty big hole in my system, but it's proven interesting enough that I've kept it in."

"That's what the Three do, isn't it?" Sweetie Belle said, looking bitter.

Celestia nodded. "The Three, or whatever number it turns out to be, are ponies that have gone insane in a specific enough way to make them conscious of the rhythm," she said. "They may not realize the true nature of it. They may fit it to their own personal worldview. But regardless, they grasp something about it accurately enough that they can alter their movements to take advantage of it. And so, in the one area they've grasped, they are free, and can manipulate others to their whims."

"But just that one area," Sweetie Belle said.

"That's right," Celestia said. "Even the Three are slightly influenced by the rhythm. They can't screw with those parts. They can't even perceive them. You can, because you aren't influenced by the rhythm at all. You are the only mortal that is completely immune to my mind control magic. And thus, you are the only mortal that can take advantage of it in any arbitrary way."

"Is that how I made everyone think I was normal?"

"Yes. That was a particularly impressive display," Celestia said. "I was surprised—you not only took advantage of the rhythm, but changed it slightly. You didn't change the way you moved to be more 'normal,' like the Three would have. You changed the entire world's definition of 'normal' to be the way you moved."

Sweetie Belle's eyes widened. "I had that much power?"

"You could have done much more than that," Celestia said. "If you had mastered your powers, nearly every mind in Equestria would have been under your control. You could have made ponies see things that weren't there, ignore things that weren't, and dance to your whims. You could have been the biggest mortal threat to my country the world has ever seen."

"Then why didn't you eliminate me then!?"

Celestia smiled. "Can't you guess?" she said. "Because it was interesting."

Sweetie Belle froze.

"You're right, you know," Celestia said. "It was a mistake to let you live then. And that's why we're here now. Because I respect that you were able to take advantage of my mistake so thoroughly."

"But I got nowhere close to what you were describing…"

"No one has gotten that close," Celestia said. "You got as close as you could. And with an impressively low body count, too." She looked out to the hellscape. "You're more efficient than me, I can say that much."

Sweetie Belle paused. She blinked, wondering if that meant what she thought it did. "What?"

Celestia looked over to Sweetie Belle and laughed sheepishly. "Yeah, all this carnage? Me." She looked out to it as if she were fondly reminiscing. "Luna was pissed, I remember that much. I really thought we were—"

It was rare a mortal could make Celestia worried from their mere facial expression.

This was one of those times.

"You destroyed this world," Sweetie Belle seethed, her horn glowing, lightning gathering around her, "and then made a fake one just to toy with us?"

"Wait, it's not quite as simple as that," Celestia got out. "You see, Luna also—"

And then, something unusual happened.

Celestia got disoriented, and in that split second, Sweetie Belle teleported. The increased magic in the air made the sparks fly everywhere, and for another split second, Celestia wondered where she could have possibly gone.

Then, she stopped wondering.

Celestia gurgled, and coughed up blood as Sweetie Belle kicked as hard as she could in from inside her stomach. She hit everything she could, and seemed to be firing off every spell she could think of. Celestia was reduced to a withering mess on the ground, her torso bursting and tearing before instantly healing again, spraying out infinite blood, shocks of paralysis and flame magic making her shake.

After a minute, Sweetie Belle stopped moving, and Celestia was finally able to focus. She concentrated, and teleported Sweetie Belle outside of her body.

Sweetie Belle looked like shit. Half of her body was burned, and the other half was coated in blood. You could see to her bones in places. The stomach acid must've done a real number on her.

She wheezed.

Celestia panted, for real this time. She didn't need to ask why Sweetie Belle attacked her. It was revenge. Revenge for all the mortals she had killed. Revenge for all the lives she had ruined. Every kick was one of her victims getting a strike back.

She deserved it.

She knew that. And telling a being as powerful as Sweetie Belle the truth… was another mistake. She really did have some of Celestia's blood in her—Celestia was convinced of that now.

There was one thing Celestia needed to know, though. "You… stunned… me," she got out. "How?"

Sweetie Belle clearly only had a few words left in her. She looked up, and her eyes seemed to shine.

"If… the rhythm's… you… then why… is there one… out here?"

Celestia tried to think about what that meant. Then, her eyes widened.

Was she under the influence of someone else's mind control? One that Sweetie Belle was able to see through, and use?

It was hopeless to ask. Celestia tried to scan her mind, but her internals were still mangled enough to prevent her from focusing enough. Resigned to it not working, she laid back, and tried to focus on healing.

Celestia turned her head, looked out at the hellscape, and for the first time noticed…

The lightning strikes weren't random.

It was the first time for a very long time Celestia found herself terrified.

– – – –

Fluttershy laid back in the fancy bathroom. The water had turned off on the showerhead, and the paralysis had passed, but that didn't help too much. She still had two giant vases crushing her already broken wings, pinning her to the ground. Even if she wanted to, it would take all her strength to get up, and would probably entail ripping her wings off. And she didn't want to. She liked her wings.

Just as she started wiggling around, in an attempt to at least make one of the vases tip over, she heard a sound.

It was like a key against metal.

Fluttershy's eyes narrowed. She had never heard that sound herself, but she had read the reports. Rumor had it it was connected to some time traveler.

There was a glowing right in front of her, and slowly, a tall blue box that vaguely looked like a phone booth materialized. Once it was done, it made a thudding sound, and a couple seconds later, the front door of it slammed open.

Ditzy came out, took one look at Fluttershy, and let out one huge sign of relief.

"Thank Luna," she said. "You're restrained."

– – – –

The guard shivered in front of Scootaloo's room. A few times, the creatures of the dungeon would stalk past him, and ignore him, but other than that, not much appeared to be happening.

He wasn't sure how long it had been. He didn't appear to be getting hungry. And his injuries seemed to be gradually healing on their own.

After a few more minutes, he decided that finally, he was alone. He raised a hoof to his ear, tapped it, and waited a few seconds.

"Hello… Corvorum Crepusculum? It's me, Agent 86. Something unexpected happened. I was… promoted. Somehow. I'm stationed in the dungeons now. Celestia has me guarding… an orange filly. I think she's… immortal."

There was some chatter on the other end, and then the guard continued. "No… I don't think that's necessary. She said in a year I could take her out and do 'whatever I wanted with her,' as long as I kept her in the castle. Does that… sound acceptable?"

The other end was silent, seemingly in disbelief. Then they spoke briefly. "Okay. Will do. See you in a year."

The guard then hung up, and looked forward, silent.