• Published 6th Feb 2015
  • 778 Views, 61 Comments

The Super Awesome Story About Stuff - BlackRoseRaven



Tournament of Canterlot charity story. A group of very different ponies end up trapped together in a world that obeys the whims of a group of Draconequui and their audience.

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Strings

Author's Note:

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Thanks for your interest, and for reading. Let's end this with a bang. I promise it'll all come together in the next chapter.

Chapter Twelve: Strings
~BlackRoseRaven

“Idiots. Idiots!” groaned the Director, as he stalked back and forth, grabbing at his face. His frustration, however, was obviously nothing more than a mask for the terror that was running through his quaking body, fearfully scrubbing at his face and whimpering every now and then as he paced continuously through the dusty, dim storeroom he had crammed them all into.

Luna grumbled under her breath as she awkwardly banged against a crate, shifting lamely back and forth as Scrivener Blooms sat awkwardly on an overturned bucket in his tattered dress, and Marina grimaced a bit as she looked around the overcrowded room, asking uncertainly: “So what... should we do?”

The Director looked stumped by this question, and Luna snorted before she grumbled: “Aye, just as I thought. Thou might whine and complain, but we, at least, did what we could. And if thou desires for us to cooperate, thou will cease all this dancing around the truth of why we are here, and tell us what this play truly represents.”

The Director shifted uneasily, nervously chewing on his front hooves for a few moments before he hesitantly nodded, then he mumbled: “Okay. Karl and the Critic and his assistant are keeping the... bad thing busy for now, so... I suppose there's a little bit of time for exposition.”

The dragon-tailed pony looked nervously back and forth as his tail switched uneasily from side-to-side, and then he sat back and brushed at himself quickly before Sol Seraph asked coldly: “How do we kill it?”

The Director creakily turned towards the Pegasus, who was perched in one corner of the room on a box, nearly invisible in the darkness in spite of her bright coat. Luna turned a sour look towards the mare, and then she said grumpily: “If thou kills this one before I get my answers, Sol Seraph...”

“That would be a waste. He serves better as bait.” Sol Seraph said contemptibly, and then she shook her head slowly before her eyes slowly roved over the Director, studying him for a few moments. “Talk, as your kind likes to do.”

The Draconequus nervously tugged at the collar of his silk shirt, but then he sighed and looked away, mumbling: “What my kind likes to do is live, that's what we like to do. Live, far away from all the pain and malice of the world, live in our own little pocket of freedom, our own little...”

He realized that all the ponies in the room were currently glowering at him;well, all except for Scrivener Blooms, who simply rested his face in his front hooves as he said dryly: “Hey, ramble away. For were the birds not meant to sing, so that all the forest could be a-full of their prattle?”

The Director scowled at him, and then Luna slowly leaned towards Scrivener and said pointedly: “Thou art going to wear thy vestments until we know, for certain, that they have no more use.”

“Luna, what use could a dress possibly have on me?” Scrivener asked disbelievingly, and then he winced away from the leer and wide grin that Luna gave him as she leaned in close. “Oh please don't.”

Luna opened her mouth, but the Director simply cleared his throat loudly before he began grumpily: “I always knew it was a terrible idea to recruit 'actors.' Look at you, unable to control yourselves, and how are the Draconequus supposed to puppet anything? We're idiots. We're chaos. Chaos is no great conductor of anything, except for more chaos...”

He quieted, lowering his head slightly as he rubbed his hooves together slowly. “Chaos has no rules, no boundaries, no laws... but squaring that with what we are is very difficult at times. We, after all, obviously have limitations: we are not infinite. In our own minds, perhaps we are, but... in reality, we are far from what we all wish we could be...”

The Director licked his lips, and then he shook his head before mumbling: “We never wanted to hurt anyone, but we would get so lonely. Every now and then, guests would stumble upon us or we would invite them in, and we'd have a wonderful time! Perhaps sometimes we were a little... unpleasant, but we all have our roles to play, you know. And chaos is many different things but it's never quite the same, never ever quite what it was before.”

The Director scrubbed at his face with a hoof, and then he shook his head again before he scowled when Luna remarked: “Thou sounds more like elves to me than Draconequuses. Draconequui. Whatever thou calls thyselves.”

“Intelligent, unlike you.” the Director muttered, and then he shook his head slowly. “Too smart for our own good, really. It was a brilliant idea, you know! We thought we had a way to... make our chaos marketable. To do good, really, even though we were being terribly selfish, with our want for contact, for an audience, for...”

He fell quiet, then sighed a little before his eyes nervously roved over the ponies, shifting beneath their intent and impatient gazes. “Yes, I know, I'm getting to it. Let me build up a little, will you? I'm the Director, not the... Actor. I never get to monologue, I never get to have my time in the spotlight. Let me pretend, for just a little while, that... people actually care what I have to say.”

“Figureheads are but totems of false importance and prompted respect: their proud pride is but vapors, to be sacrificed at the first ill wind.” Scrivener intoned wryly, and the Director scowled at him. “Don't blame me. Blame Horsemund.”

The Director rolled his eyes, and then he sat back and said moodily: “You're terrible, but you're also terribly apt. I don't matter, no. In fact, none of us really matter. We're all just smoke and mirrors, the play is nothing but a distraction... and such a good distraction, that we actually fell for it ourselves, can you imagine that?

“Our cavorting, our invitations, attracted a Producer: he had the power and the skills necessary to bring new actors, new players to the game, but... we should have seen where things were headed. We should have realized he was no patron of the arts, but an artless, heartless businessman.” The Director laughed faintly, shaking his head slowly. “And like all businessmen, he was out simply to make a quick buck off our hard work... and with his share of the profits, he would build a bigger and bigger mousetrap.

“A devil like him feeds off the emotional energies, the toil and the pain of others. We didn't realize what he was doing until it was too late, making our beautiful play into something... something it was never meant to be.” The Director shook his head slowly, then he muttered: “Although I suppose we deserve no better than we got, really. In a very real way, we crafted our own demise.”

“Thou art just speaking in circles now. If Plutocrat was such a wretch, why did thou and thy kind not eject him on his rump, and why does it seem like now, with his death, this world has started to fall into disarray?”

“Because of the Redacted, of course.” the Director murmured, even as his breath came out as white mist at the word, as a terrible cold passed through the air with the thought alone of that wretched thing, that thing which must not be named. “Oh, Narrator, I know, I know. But there's not really any running away, any escaping it anymore, now is there? We might as well speak the damn thing's name. If I'm going to die, I don't want to die on my knees, the way I lived. I want to die on my hooves. A real stallion. Not just a pretender. Not just a piece of make-believe.”

There was silence for a few moments, and then Scrivener Blooms said slowly: “Pluto brought the creature. And without Pluto... it's out of control?”

“Close enough. Close enough. I think, really, it was always here, slithering around, drinking down the ichor left behind whenever a performance went badly. But Pluto certainly made it stronger, realized it was something he could use to pull our strings. Eventually, what it became was...” The Director halted, then shook his head slowly. “It's everything we're not.”

“And now 'tis loose, without the master to hold its leash. Because a devil has powers that a Draconequus does not.” Luna said slowly, and the Director gave a wry smile as he reached up and tapped his own nose gently.

“Plutocrat was the only one who could control the Redacted, yes.” The Director shook his head briefly again. “I suppose it has something to do with him being the hand that fed it. But now there's nothing to hold the Redacted back. The Redacted became the weapon that Pluto used to make us put on plays, to make us...gather more and more souls. To force us to keep them prisoner here, instead of ever sending them back home. To make us obey, even though he was always supposed to be the silent partner, the provider who got the scraps at first, but... what machineries of joy he has made from those dregs and decay!”

The Director flopped back in his seat, rubbing slowly at his face before he said tiredly: “And now here we are. The play is over, ad finitum. Forever, I think: once the Redacted was just a rat we could kick out of the way whenever it got too excited, now it's become...”

“I would ask why you never noticed that the beast was being fed, but I think I already know the answer.” Sol Seraph said distastefully, looking contemptibly down at the Director, who scowled in return... but his eyes were unable to stay steady on hers, shifting awkwardly back and forth. “Cocky enough to make a deal with a devil. Stupid enough not to tell us the whole truth.”

“Not cocky, lonely. And he offered such gifts, he offered so much and we... well, we're a very gullible sort when it comes to things that fulfill our desires. The Critic, well, he was always critical, but... he was always critical: he is the Critic, after all.” argued the Director, before he looked up uneasily as the world rattled around them, the other ponies shivering as the air dropped several degrees, all of them now able to see their breath whispering in and out.

“That is why thou chose us.” Luna said quietly, and the Director smiled feebly as the sapphire mare became suddenly serious, looking coldly at the Director. “And Styx and Marina... I assume they have their parts to play to, do they not?”

Marina frowned uneasily as she looked up, and the Director laughed briefly before he looked away and mumbled: “Certainly not in case you failed, my dear. Chaos is governed by very stubborn rules, after all. But we needed a full cast, you know, and you were such appetizing targets, and we knew we could get you to play along for long enough that-”

The world shook, and the Director paled as he looked up, grasping at his face before he whispered: “But now it's all gone wrong. We forgot about the outsiders. We forgot about the audience, and their whims! We forgot that-”

The Director yelped as psychic static tore across their minds, and Sol Seraph smiled thinly, looking up fearlessly as she said coldly: “Everything that lives, dies.”

“Aye, volk. Let us just hope that today is not our day to pay that price.” Luna growled, readying herself as the static grew worse, and cruel whispers filled the cold air. And as the Director cowered back, the ponies faced the door to the storeroom, drawing on all the reserves they could even as the chill in the air and the malevolent whispers in their mind sought to drain them of life and strength and end the battle before it could even begin.

River Styx didn't know what had happened. He simply woke up, in a dusty alley that reeked of garbage and decay. He pushed himself slowly to his hooves, before he frowned as a voice asked: “Are you alright there, Styx?”

“Who are...” Styx looked at the pony who was standing across from him: smiling, tall, with a scarf around his neck, a hat jauntily resting on one side of his head, a long traveler's cloak covering his body, and yet that face... “You're... Loki.”

A debonair stallion who looked both everything and nothing like River Styx smiled: the same features, the same color eyes, the same complexion and coat and mane... but there was such a light in him. Such a cheery, talkative openness. “Yes, Styxie, yes. Now come on, we have to go find Stones.”

“Stones.” His little brother. Was he here?

Styx shoved himself up to his hooves, scowling at Loki before he said coldly: “I'm done playing games. I am going to take my brother and leave.”

“Because before, that was you being patient, right?” Loki said mildly, gesturing pointedly with one hoof before he winked and reached up to tap Styx on the nose, making him scowl and wrinkle up his muzzle. “Look, you're a smart colt, Styx. I just said we have to go find Stones. Think for a moment with that brain I know you have up there. What do you get by threatening me?”

He was cajoling, charming... and right, Styx had to grudgingly admit. So after a moment, he simply nodded once before he scowled at Loki, but Loki only smiled cheerfully back at him before he turned and strode out of the alley, asking over his shoulder: “Do you recognize where we are?”

River Styx looked back and forth briefly, and then he licked his lips slowly for a moment before he said, as much as he loathed the name: “Charnel Crossing.”

“That's right.” Loki winked and tipped his hat towards Styx as the two walked to the center of the dusty crossroads: the only thing that was different from Styx's memories of this place was the lack of ponies: there were no beggars or urchins, and no careless ponies to stomp over them. But the ramshackle stalls were the same, the half-crumbled visages of leaning and tottering old buildings were the same, from the fortress of the Channel Orphanage to the ruins of the halfway house that leaned as ominously as the drunkards that had filled its halls.

River Styx breathed slowly through his mouth as Loki gestured towards the Orphanage, saying wryly: “Isn't it amazing? In better days, they said that Channel Crossing was one of the most popular places here in the city. Now we have to wonder whether or not Channel Crossing ever actually had better days, or if that's all a make-believe fairy tale, just nonsense, like-”

“He can't be in the Charnel House. I did everything I could to keep him out of there. Foals died in that place, it was like a prison.” River Styx said sharply, looking over at Loki with both frustration and fear. It didn't matter that he had seen his brother, fully-grown, strong and a soldier... that place represented death. And even if he felt... sick, and like there was a poison inside him, and like he wasn't entirely in control of his own actions, Styx was still coherent enough to understand that these visions, these memories, whatever they were... “We have to rescue him.”

“And we will, Styxie, but don't get ahead of yourself. Or do you really want to go in there, hooves up and magic blazing, and excite whatever's holding him hostage?” Loki pointed out, and Styx hesitated in the middle of the road before the stallion said in a softer voice: “Don't forget that this may be some fantasy, but there are still rules. You and I can die.”

“The play is supposed to be over. We finished it. We killed the devil pulling the strings.” Styx said coldly, glaring over at Loki.

But Loki only smiled, reaching up to touch his own nose gently. “You're preaching to the choir, Styxie. But the original world here wasn't created by the devil, I'll have you know. Nor was it shaped by those silly things you call Draconequus. It belonged to someone else before everyone moved in, but... that's another story, for another time. Look, there.”

Styx turned, and his eyes widened slightly as they locked on a window above and he saw a shape move in it. But more than that, he saw something blowing in the faint wind, tied to one of the loose shutters...

River Styx reached up to touch his throat as he looked over at Loki, who smiled as he reached up and gently tugged at his own scarf. “I always kept mine. It was the only thing we had left of-”

“Don't you say it. Don't you dare say it.” River Styx breathed, and Loki only continued to smile at him, until Styx gritted his teeth and turned his eyes back towards the orphanage, muttering: “Alright then, my... conscience, or my shadow, or whatever you are. Let's go. And don't try anything stupid.”

“Shadows aren't always as dark as the things they're cast from, Styx.” Loki replied calmly, and Styx shot the stallion a curdling glare before he turned ahead, but then ground his teeth together in frustration when Loki tut-tutted and said mildly: “I thought we went over this, though. We can't go in through the front door.”

Styx closed his eyes and took a slow breath to steady himself, before he frowned as Loki asked: “Do you remember how you snuck out?”

“I...” Styx stopped, then he nodded once before he headed quickly around to the side of the building. He halted just around the corner as a movement caught his eye, quickly hunching back into the shadows cast by the leaning patio, and he watched uncertainly as a strange, pony-like shape stuck its head out the window... but it looked like it was composed of viscous shadow, with eyes like spotlights...

It drew back after a moment, vanishing into the darkness inside the house, and Styx felt a chill run down his spine as Loki leaned in close beside him and whispered: “Late last night, and the night before...”

“Tommyknockers, tommyknockers, knocking at my door. I know. Shut up.” River Styx muttered, and then he carefully made his way down the dirty alleyway between the wall of the house and the rickety fence, stepping over any cans or loose gravel in his way and sticking close to the wall of the house. “This won't work.”

“Sure it will! Have a little faith, Styxie.” half-scolded and half-encouraged the stallion behind him, who seemed to lead him forwards even as he followed behind.

They reached the back of the house after a moment, and Styx took a quick look over the weedy lot: it was filled with debris and ancient, splintering playsets made of warty and knotted wood, and there was a stink here, a stink like... alcohol, and cigarettes, and something else. But he ignored it, as he turned his eyes towards the porch that was slowly pulling itself away from the rear of the building, ducking under the ramshackle stairs and making his way to a boarded-up window.

He grasped the side of it, and one of the boards slid out of place with a hiss, a few loose nails falling with faint tings to the concrete floor of the basement beyond. Styx stuck his head in, then swore under his breath as his armor scraped with a dull wail against the edge of the window, and Loki gestured wildly at him, shushing him violently as Styx only glared balefully at the... annoyance. “You're making more noise than me.”

Loki shoved a hoof against Styx's lips, silencing him, before he gestured quickly at the hole with his eyes as he said: “You'll have to take off your armor if you want to get through there.”

For some reason, it made Styx hesitate, as he shifted backwards: was that the training? Or was it something else, some other feeling in his gut, something...

But no, he couldn't hesitate. He had promised that he wouldn't hesitate when it came to saving his brother. He would do whatever it was that had to be done.

Styx pulled off his armor, and there was no reluctance as he tossed it aside, breathing quietly in and out as he stood for a moment, looking down at himself. He felt a strange pain roll through his body as he looked at one of his hooves: no armor, and no friend to guide him. Just this strange stranger, Loki, who was smiling at him as his eyes glittered a little too brightly...

“Good. In you go.” Loki invited, and Styx knew that he had made a mistake.

And he also knew that at this point, there was no turning back.

River Styx turned, and entered the darkness waiting beyond the window, and Loki followed.

“Catch me, Twilight!”

Shining Armor sang the words as he ran through the dusty hallway. Twilight leaned forwards, opening her mouth, almost shouting after the foal... but then she caught herself, as she slowly straightened and strode towards the center of the rickety entrance hall instead, looking slowly back and forth.

“Come out.” Twilight said softly, and the wooden room around her seemed to pulsate and breathe like a living thing, the floor rippling, the ceiling rumbling, the dusty glass in the windows vibrating faintly. “I know you can hear me. I know you're there. And I think I know what you are now. Something that frightens Draconequus, but a devil – even a weak one, a greedy one, like Plutocrat – can control with impunity, and make strong... but always keep on a leash. Because that's what he treated you like, wasn't it? A pet. An animal.”

The wooden walls vibrated with unhidden rage, and the world shook around her, but Twilight remained firm and steady on her hooves, shaking her head slowly as she said softly: “I don't think that's what you are. I don't want to do that to you.”

The shaking quieted slowly, as if the presence controlling this whole nightmare world was surprised out of its rage. But Twilight only smiled, looking up as she said gently: “Come out.”

Whispers assaulted her mind for a moment, and psychic static fizzled through the air, bit and scratched at her emotions, but the violet mare simply closed her eyes for a moment and took a breath as she concentrated her magic. An aura surrounded her body, shielding her from the effects of the presence, and the whispers went from a million wild and accusing and paranoid voices to something suddenly coherent: “Can she see us? Can she see us?”

“She can hear us! She can hear us!” said another voice fearfully, and Twilight looked back and forth, but those presences were still invisible and intangible. Those presences... no, it was speaking in different voices, but really there was only one creature, one entity, one force behind all this...

But that had been the truth all along, hadn't it? Emotions, though... every emotion has a way of becoming something new, taking on its own life...

Twilight Sparkle smiled faintly, looking up as she said softly: “A play, within a play, within a play. But at the heart of it all...”

Yes, she had figured out the truth of the matter. But as she gazed back and forth, she had yet to realize that knowing the truth didn't change the facts: that even if there was only one beating heart at the core of it all, there were still a thousand different reaching hands, all acting in their own interest, all hiding behind their own masks: that these false faces had all become as alive and real as the beings they had only meant to represent...

Twilight shook her head slowly, and then Shining Armor's voice came, faint and hopeful and afraid all at once: “Please, Twilight... won't you save me? Won't you play with me?”

Twilight Sparkle looked up in the direction the voice had come from, and then she sighed a little before she said gently, as her eyes roved up the rickety stairs to the second floor: “We can't play forever.”

“I don't want to play forever. I just want a little more time, just a little more time.” whispered Shining Armor's voice. “Come play with me. The play is over and now it's playtime, don't you see? Then you can go. Then you can go back home. We'll take care of things. Everything's fine.”

Twilight narrowed her eyes slightly at this, shifting uncertainly before she hesitantly strode to the stairs. She silently rested a hoof against the bottom riser, looking up through the dusty hall, careful to keep herself insulated beneath her magic as she felt that psychic static trying to press in on her from all sides, and heard the voices whispering to her mind: they were much quieter now, but they were still whispering, whispering away.

She climbed the stairs, then looked back and forth in surprise as the hall suddenly came to life with the noise of ponies and foals, the mare looking back and forth and catching glimpses of perhaps dozens of others as she stumbled to the landing and nearly lost her concentration-

And she was alone again. The world was empty again, except for her, standing here on the dusty landing in a building where there hadn't been life for what felt like centuries. Twilight breathed slowly in and out, before she fortified her magic as she looked up towards the ceiling and said: “You have to give those lives back.”

But some things, of course, could not simply be 'given back,' and that is the sad and bitter truth. And isn't it better this way? The Redacted would have devoured them, torn them apart, left them with truly, as truly, nothing. But here, at least, these souls live on with us, as part of the play: not ghosts, not real, but a little bit of both and neither all at once, eternally happy, eternally able to contribute their memories, their emotions, their... love...

Twilight Sparkle smiled faintly, then she shook her head slowly as she turned and walked down the hall. She found Shining Armor sitting at the end of the corridor, smiling warmly up at her as he hugged a doll of Princess Celestia against his chest, saying brightly: “Now we can play!”

Twilight studied the foal for a few moments, and then she said softly: “I was an only child, growing up, you know.”

Shining Armor stiffened at this, looking up at Twilight as his face fell, and the violet mare shook her head before she leaned forwards and encouraged: “Why don't we leave this place? You and I, together. We can still have fun, but later: right now, we don't have time for play. I need you to let me leave. And you should come with me.”

Shining Armor shifted back and forth on the ground, hugging the Princess Celestia doll tightly against his body before he suddenly looked up, his eyes blazing with anger. “No! Don't you understand? What about our time, what about what I want?”

The world shook around them, and Twilight Sparkle stumbled as the floor rippled and cracked beneath her. She was nearly thrown off her hooves, but she managed to catch herself before she winced in surprise when the Princess Celestia doll bounced off her head.

Shining Armor bolted past her, and Twilight spun around and chased after him: the foal was both fast and unaffected by the rumbling of reality around them, letting him keep ahead as she staggered and stumbled over the uneven, quaking flooring and the ruptured wood. He leapt into a narrow stairwell, and Twilight gritted her teeth as the stairs broke away behind the foal as he ran up them. She thought about trying to fly, but that wasn't possible with the shaking, closing walls...

Twilight swore under her breath, then she carefully began to climb the broken stairs almost like a ladder, one snapped rung at a time. She made her way up little by little after the foal before her eyes widened as the door at the top of the stairs suddenly slammed closed, and the walls around her shook violently before they slammed savagely together around her like a trap.

For a few moments, there was nothing, and Shining Armor simply trembled in the corridor as he stared at the closed door, whispering: “N-No. I didn't want... you weren't supposed to do that, y-you weren't! Why did you do that?”

The world shivered around the foal before it slowly settled, cracked and damaged boards returning gradually to normal. But Shining Armor only trembled, rubbing at his face slowly as his eyes filled with tears, staring at the door as he said weakly: “I didn't want to hurt anypony, honest...”

Sometimes, however, things had to be done, things simply took a turn that we did not want. Desire is selfish, and short-sighted: it only sees what must be done at the moment to achieve its ends, but too often, it is manipulated, led astray, blinded by-

“You talk too much.” mumbled a voice, and Shining Armor's eyes widened before the door at the top of the stairs was roughly shouldered open, and Twilight stumbled out, looking little the worse for wear. She scowled at Shining Armor, but Shining Armor looked up at her with a relieved, bright smile before he winced and flushed, lowering his head in shame as Twilight said firmly: “This is not a game. Now you need to stop, and you need to come with me.”

“I... okay. I'm sorry.” Shining Armor mumbled, scraping a hoof at the ground before he looked up and said: “But I was just doing what they told me to! And I just wanted to play... and you wouldn't-”

As Shining grew more agitated, the house began to rumble around them again, but Twilight simply stepped forwards and placed her hoof on Shining's mouth, silencing him and making him look dumbly down at the hoof over his mouth before Twilight suddenly leaned down and kissed his forehead. The foal blushed deeply, and Twilight smiled as her hoof slipped to his chin to tilt his head up, saying gently: “I know. That's why I want to get you out of here.”

“But we can't leave yet!” Shining Armor said quickly, and Twilight frowned and tilted her head before the foal gestured quickly down the dusty corridor, towards the only door that was open at the end of the rickety hall. “Mister Pebbles is in there, and he said he wanted to come with us! And some friends, too!”

“Right.” Twilight said slowly, and then she hesitated for a moment before she nodded, asking quietly: “Shining Armor, do you know where River Styx is?”

Shining Armor only shook his head, then he held his hooves up towards Twilight pointedly. Twilight looked back at him for a few moments, thought about telling the foal to use his words... and then realized how inane and insane that would be at a time like now, as she instead simply flicked her horn to lift the foal onto her back.

He clung to her happily as she made her way down the hall, and keeping him happy seemed to make the world less hostile, some of the cracks in the walls vanishing, the warps in the floorboards settling beneath her hooves as she made her way slowly down the corridor. “Oh, I don't know! All I want is to play, though, and to be part of the adventure... but they always say a little foal like me has no place in any 'adventures,' but I think that's just silly. This is all just training for when I'm a Royal Guard one day!”

Twilight couldn't help but smile briefly at this, shaking her head before she leaned hesitantly around the corner of the doorway into the room beyond. She frowned slightly as she looked into a dusty bedroom beyond, her eyes narrowing a bit before she asked in surprise: “Aren't you Styx's brother?”

The stallion looked up at her with a smile, and then he nodded once as Shining Armor hopped off Twilight and ran quickly over to the stallion, skidding to a halt beside him as the foal said brightly: “This is Mister Pebbles!”

“That's not my name, kid.” the stallion said awkwardly, and then he turned his eyes back up to Twilight, adding: “Yes. Thank you for helping me. Hopefully we can all escape here together, now... but we should wait for my brother. My brother is coming, I can feel it.”

Twilight was quiet for a moment, and then she said softly: “It's... insidious. Because you forget, because you can't help interacting with them, because you look at these ponies, and see ponies... not what they really are. Even I keep doing it, even though I know...”

Both the foal and the stallion frowned at her, but Twilight only shook her head as she sighed a little, stepping forwards to begin: “Look, we're not going to get anywhere doing this. And this is dangerous. There's so many fragments that I can't tell-”

“Uh oh. I'm sorry I have to do this.” Styx's brother interrupted with a wince, twitching as he looked up as if he had just been given an order by something, and then he suddenly gave a blood-curdling scream before he dropped on his side as Shining Armor yelped and turned in shock towards 'Mr. Pebbles' with shock, and Twilight gaped as the stallion began to writhe on the ground in faked agony. “Styx! Help! Help me!”

Twilight mouthed wordlessly as she stepped forwards, before she gasped as a blast of wind hammered into her side and knocked her skidding towards the wall. She turned, right into a savage punch from River Styx as his brother wailed and Shining Armor shouted and another voice... laughed, and laughed, and laughed.

Twilight recovered faster than Styx had expected her to, ducking under another swipe of a hoof before her eyes narrowed as she felt the magic before Styx could unleash it. Immediately, she flicked her own horn sharply up, and Styx reared back, his mouth falling open as a painful numbness sparked through his spire before he was blasted backwards into a wall by a powerful surge of telekinesis.

His skull smashed against a stud in the wall, and he collapsed on his stomach with a groan, knocked senseless for a moment. He reeled as he tried to pick himself up, but he was sharp enough to know the Shadow Pony was beside him again-

He kicked out with both hind legs, but the creature caught him by the rear hooves and then neatly spun him over and slammed him down on his back, the unicorn's eyes widening in shock as a familiar voice muttered from the shadow's mouth: “You're lucky I'm not Luna.”

“Twilight?” River Styx asked disbelievingly, and the shadows vanished from around the mare, the stallion staring at her blankly before he snarled and yanked his legs back from her, opening his mouth to shout at her, to ask her why she had been...

Except his mouth snapped shut a moment later, and he slowly turned towards Loki as he picked himself up off the ground. Loki, who was smiling pleasantly at him, his eyes glittering as he strode leisurely over to join Shining Armor and his brother. His brother, who was just fine, slowly picking himself up from the ground as he smiled with embarrassment at Styx. “Sorry. You know me, I always have to do what I'm told. But it's okay. We're together now. That's all that matters, right, brother?”

“What are you talking about? I saw... but...” River Styx looked disbelievingly over the ponies, and Twilight Sparkle shook her head as she reached up to gingerly touch his shoulder, but the stallion roughly shrugged her off, glaring at her furiously. “What do you know? Why am I the only one here who... who...”

He broke off, staring, as his brother held up a hoof, held up... Lamp. His genet chirped happily on his brother's hoof, smiling at him, and Styx stared, shaking his head weakly before Twilight Sparkle said quietly: “We have to leave. And we have to leave, now.”

“I don't understand. Why the hell did you make me attack her, Loki, I know that stupid smirk. And why does my head hurt so much? No, it doesn't hurt anymore, there's... I just feel... a compulsion. A duty. I have to protect my brother, Twilight. Stones, let's go, let's get out of here, let's-”

“We're not going anywhere. I don't want to go anywhere. I have my big brothers to take care of me, here.” the stallion smiled warmly as he looked over at Loki, who was grinning still, grinning a grin Styx wanted to punch off his stupid twin's face-

No, I don't have a twin brother.

“Loki, what the hell is going on?” Styx shouted, and then he winced when Twilight grabbed him and shook him firmly, jerking him back to face her.

“Don't interact with them. They are not real. It's a trap, Styx, that's all this play has ever been!” Twilight shouted, and Styx shoved her backwards, shaking his head weakly, wanting to believe... not wanting to believe...

I have a brother. I have one brother.

“What are you talking about?” he whispered.

“Styx, there is no play! There are no Draconequus! There was no devil!” Twilight shouted, but her eyes were desperate, as she saw the way Styx kept looking towards the other ponies, as she felt the thrum in the air, as she heard the crows of victory from all around her, growing so loud and powerful they were cutting through the magic she was insulating herself with.

I have... one brother. I have a twin brother. I have a younger brother.

“No, that's... but the Draconequus, from the very start-” Styx argued, not even knowing why he was arguing, looking back and forth as he said disbelievingly: “But we talked to... the actors, Karl, the Critic, the cast, you and me and different ponies, the Redacted-”

“It's all just been the Narrator, all along. He's not a Draconequus. I don't know what he is, but it's us, it's him and it's us, interacting with him, that's creating this... this second dream.” Twilight said, gesturing uselessly at herself as she gazed almost desperately at Styx, and then she motioned sharply towards the trio of ponies standing, watching them with smiles on their faces, and Styx looked at them as he shook his head weakly, for the first time in his life... speechless, unable to comprehend, unable to grasp the answer. “I don't know how we got here, but all these ponies are drawn into this... this living consciousness, and he uses their memories, their interactions, manipulates them...”

Twilight puttered to a halt as Styx slowly turned towards the ponies, and his brother smiled as the genet hopped up onto his head, Lamp chirping happily as his brother said softly: “It's not a cruel manipulation. Adventure, desperation, excitement: people crave these things, strange as it is. This can be your Hell, this can be your Heaven.”

“I don't want to hurt anyone. No one wants to hurt anyone here. I never meant to hurt them, to... exhaust them.” Shining Armor said quietly, touching his own breast as he shook his head with a faint blush, his eyes roving upwards. “And pieces of me... took on their likeness. I was so lonely, I gave my emotions life. It was a mistake, okay, it was bad of me. It was wrong of me.”

“The devil was in the details, you know. All along, the Narrator makes things happen, isn't it fantastic?” Loki laughed and shook his head, before he smiled and gestured at himself. “But look at me, Styx. Your twin brother. Everything you want to be, isn't that right? Except look at you! You're everything that I want to be...” Loki's smile faded, for the first time, and he whispered: “Real.”

Yes, real. Living, ethereal consciousness, like a god, and yet... unable to touch the world. Able to bring anything to life, very emotions crafting avatars who represent ideas and emotions! And yet... unable to control them, unable to keep them in line, unable to make them... stay.

And yet sometimes souls wander in from outside. Or are drawn in, perhaps, by whispers and lights: you looked up at the lantern in the tallest tower and chased the will o' wisp in the wind, didn't you? I can't lie: I'm glad you did. I'm very sad you did, but I'm very glad you did, too.

You woke up, in my dream. But I didn't realize the side effects, because I never read the bottle: when you interact with what isn't real, when you play house with the make-believe, you power it with your mind, your heart, your spirit, your belief. But what is left when all that belief begins to drain away? What if you believe so strongly, what if you see images so real, that you start to make them real, that you start to create truth?

Creation takes energy.

And hunger makes us cruel.

Twilight Sparkle shook her head slowly, and then she whispered: “River Styx, you have to leave right now. Because if you stay, you won't make it out of here.”

“You never have to leave. I know, it's sad, it's cruel, that I never told you the truth.” River Styx looked up, and his little brother smiled at him as he said gently: “But I'm here now. We're here.”

“Lamp...” Styx whispered, looking at his genet, who chirped at him, who moved just like the real Lamp would, who acted... “You're saying that all of this is powered by our emotions. That they... he... put us on some made-up adventure because...”

“We all have different backgrounds. We're all the same in one way, though... we're ponies who... who have been hurt by the world.” Twilight said quietly, as Styx reached up and grasped at his head, clenching his eyes shut, trying to concentrate, trying his hardest not to believe... trying to find the anger, and the hate, and the fury that no, he had just been used all along, that wasn't his real brother, his real brothers were...

“You made me strong. You made me happy. Now it's my turn to protect you, to help you. Your family is here, River Styx. Your family is waiting for you.” Styx's little brother said, and the stallion looked up, helpless, as his young brother stepped forwards, and Lamp chirped happily on his head, and Loki winked and grinned at him. “I'm here. I'm right here. Styx and Stones will break their bones and names will never hurt us.”

Styx breathed raggedly in and out, looking down: was it a phantasm, eked out of his memories, shaped by the hands of some cruel not-god that ruled this world? Or was it really his little brother... his little brother, whom he had to save, whom he had to protect, at any cost...

“I want to take that risk, but... I can't.” Styx said in a low voice, closing his eyes tightly as he lowered his head for a moment. Then he took a slow breath, before he rose his head and looked almost miserably over his shoulder at Twilight. “You can't understand. How can I even believe that you're real? How can I believe...”

“I understand better than you might think, Styx. But I can't promise you we can save you. I can't promise anything, except that... we'll try our best. Believe in that, Styx. And believe in yourself.” Twilight replied with a faint smile, before her eyes lowered towards Shining Armor as the foal whimpered and strode towards her, gazing up at her desperately.

“Please, please! I'm having so much trouble getting into your mind, seeing the truth... I don't know why. Plutocrat knew, but there are rules, laws to be obeyed, and I can't see into that part of me anymore...”

“Yes, I know. That's what helped me figure out what was going on here. All these laws, all these rules... but you're all only masks. Narrator... whatever you call yourself... please. You're in control of all this. Not the masks. Not the emotions, not the ghosts, not everything else... can't you just let us go, please? Can't you let Styx go? He doesn't deserve this.”

Twilight Sparkle knelt in front of Shining Armor, looking at him silently, and the foal trembled as he lowered his head, shaking it weakly back and forth before Loki stepped forwards with a grin, wrapping his foreleg around Styx as the stallion strode over to him. “No! We can be happy together, family! Can't you see the gift I've given to everyone who comes here? Heaven!”

“You're feeding off them. You make up excuses and rationalizations, you've 'fragmented' yourself into all these different personas... but ultimately, you are you, Narrator, and you are in control of all this.” Twilight rose her head high, looking gamely now towards the ceiling, and her eyes were so piercing, as if they could stare through the veil, as if they could stare into the Narrator's broken heart. “Take responsibility for yourself. No more hiding, no more pretending, no more-”

“The Redacted is moving. The Redacted wants to hunt.” whispered Shining Armor, and Twilight's eyes widened before the foal looked up almost desperately at Twilight, blurting: “Now that it's free of Plutocrat, it'll consume everyone! It wants to devour, devour this whole world!”

“And depression eating you up from the inside out is supposed to be a metaphor.” Loki said wryly, before he clapped his hooves together and smiled over at Styx and his little brother. “Well! Enough of that! Let's be on our way, shall we? I mean, we have a whole world to explore! The Redacted will never catch up to us, so let's just forget about it!”

Styx's little brother shifted uncomfortably as the genet on his head growled at Loki, who scowled horribly back at the little pet, and Styx clenched his eyes shut before he looked up and muttered, trying to work his way through the fog, trying to shove off the strange power that Loki seemed to have over him: “If... the Redacted was held back by Plutocrat, and the Narrator can make anything happen, why can't-”

“Didn't you hear? I mean, I wasn't paying a lot of attention but rules, laws, the Narrator is a great big coward, things like that.” Loki said airily and irritably... and maybe there was a bit of nervousness in his voice as he gestured idly over at Styx. “Me, I don't care. I'm alive! We're alive!”

“Yes, the Narrator can bring a sort of... life to emotions, memories, our dreams... that's another reason why everything was framed as a play. That's what a play is. But...” Twilight bit her lip: things didn't entirely make sense still, and there were still shadows, still things that confused her, answers that eluded her...

But there wasn't much time to think about it, either, as she asked quickly: “Where is the Redacted?”

Styx shifted, then he started to look up, feeling that need to take on the threat rising up in him, that inextinguishable drive telling him what he had to do, that to protect his brother, that meant-

He winced when Loki grabbed the back of his neck, the twinned stallion suddenly losing his composure as he growled: “Oh, you just can't play along, can you? You have to have every answer and always be the hero!”

Styx's eyes widened before his body shivered and he fell forwards, breathing hard as he felt the faintest stinging pain from a hidden needle that had pierced his skin, and his younger brother dropped to a kneel beside him with a yelp of shock as Loki glared at Twilight Sparkle. But it was the betrayal that hurt deepest, the betrayal from the pony he had almost been fooled into thinking of as family, as Loki stepped forwards with a growl, brandishing his hoof.

Twilight, however, only looked fearlessly back as the stallion pointed at her, saying coldly: “You are an annoyance. You keep getting in the way! Do you know who I am, Twilight Sparkle?”

“A mask like any other. A troublemaker. A desperate comedian.” Twilight said shortly, and Loki's face blanked as he stared at her, his jaw dropping. “Narrator, I want you to talk to me directly. Not through fragments.”

“Fragments? I am my own person! I make the decisions now!” Loki roared, suddenly furious, his eyes blazing as he leapt forwards and wind magic crackled around him. And Twilight's eyes narrowed as she leapt backwards, dropping to a ready position as her own horn thrummed with magic, watching the way Loki's body rippled unnaturally, how his eyes gleamed dangerously.

Living emotion. The twin of River Styx, a Styx who had never known pain or fear or longing... combined with all the worst qualities of a stallion whom Twilight had seen did not hesitate to kill.

Twilight readied herself as Loki snarled at her, raising the hoof with the hidden needle clutched in it, the tip gleaming dangerously with poison. Poison that could paralyze, poison that could kill. “I was going to let you slip away when I got what I wanted, family, a brother, but no, no. You had to keep pushing. You want to drag Styx off on... what, some crusade that will get him killed? Please! I knew I should have made him kill you!”

“The Redacted is everywhere. The stronger it gets, the stronger its influence gets. Loki, y-you don't want to hurt anyone, I know you don't!” cried out Shining Armor, leaping forward, but Loki only roughly kicked the foal backwards as his youngest brother flinched.

“Shut up. I know what I'm doing.” growled the stallion, as Loki looked back towards Twilight Sparkle. “The Redacted can be avoided. The Redacted isn't important. But if you drag him off to fight it, it's certain death! Really, I'm the one here who's trying to protect everyone!”

“Are you sure that's what you're afraid of? Are you sure that it isn't just the Redacted, playing tricks on your mind?” Twilight asked, and Loki smiled thinly. “Loki, I don't want to fight you. But I will if you force my hoof, because I think the last thing you want to do is 'protect' us. Ownership is not protection.”

“Oh, dear. That's the deadly double edge, though, Twilight Sparkle, when it comes to fight or flight: either way, I get what I want.” Loki's eyes gleamed as his horn thrummed, and Twilight grimaced as shadowy ponies appeared on either side of her, as the trickster pony said softly: “You are more of a danger than the Redacted is. What's the Redacted to us? Nothing! But you... you want to drag Styx away. You want to separate him from us, his brothers. And I will not stand for that. If he was half as smart as he thinks he is, he would understand that too.”

Twilight looked back and forth at the shadow-ponies on either side of her, and then she said quietly: “The entire time you've been trying to drive us off. Split us up. Does that mean that Sol Seraph...”

“Oh, please. She doesn't understand. But she is easy to manipulate. You're all... very easy to manipulate.” Loki smiled contemptibly, and then he leaned forwards, his eyes suddenly half-lidding as he said pleasantly: “After all, all I have to do is stall you, not fight you, isn't that right? Because once your precious family dies, you die too. And then you'll become... part of the family.”

Twilight began to turn, but the shadow-ponies leapt at her, the mare ducking and weaving automatically before she swore as one of them grabbed her: it felt terribly cold and slimy, and she easily wrenched herself out of its grip, but voices needled at her head: the shade had leeched away some of the magic shielding her with touch alone-

The other clone tackled her, and Twilight swore as she struggled under its grip as Loki casually reached into his cloak, pulling out a glass ball and bouncing it in one hoof before he slung it suddenly, savagely forwards as Twilight bucked off the shade: it struck at her legs and exploded, but not into fire and force, but instead a gluey substance that splattered over her legs and body, the mare stumbling once to the side before her eyes widened as she found herself cemented in place.

The shades grabbed into either side of her, grinning as they began to rapidly drain away the magic she had shielded herself with, and Loki sauntered towards her with a smile as he reached up and tapped easily on the side of his head with one hoof, saying pleasantly: “See, it's not all about power, Twilight Sparkle. It's about brains, and what you're willing to do to protect your interests. It's about the roles you're willing to play, and the-”

“Horses of Heaven, you have a big mouth.” Twilight muttered, and Loki halted as he glowered at her, his eyes narrowing dangerously. The purple mare gritted her teeth as the psychic static and the voices started to invade her mind, and oh, she really didn't want to do this, she really didn't want to resort to this, but among all the rage and fear and paranoia and anxiety of the voices, she could also faintly sense triumph, and cruel laughter, and- “If you understand how important family is, Loki... then you'll let me go, right now. Let me go, so I can stop the Redacted. I can't stop Styx from staying here. I can't destroy this trap, whatever it is, and I have no interest in doing so. But I am going to save Marina, if I can. I am going to save... whatever other lost souls can still be saved. And I am going to save my family... and you are not going to stop me.”

Loki laughed loudly at this, leaning forwards with a grin as he rose the hoof with the hidden needle standing out of it, asking coldly: “And just how do you plan to escape? You can't move. The shades will disperse all your magic before you can cast it. You're trapped, Twilight Sparkle, because I am better than you, I am smarter than you, and I am more willing to-”

Twilight Sparkle flexed as a thrum passed through the air, and Styx wasn't sure what happened, as he looked groggily up. But Loki staggered backwards in shock as his shades both simply vanished, and his twin rubbed slowly at his face as he mouthed wordlessly, staring blankly into the space where Twilight had been before.

Loki shook his head in disbelief, and then he whispered: “I don't understand. My plan was perfect. Perfect, not even she should have... any pony should have...”

Loki looked up at his shades, and they both looked emptily back at him before the stallion bared his teeth, spinning around as Shining Armor whimpered: “We should just let them go.”

For a moment, Loki's eyes burned with rage... but then he suddenly smiled and reached out to cheerfully pat Shining Armor on the head, saying patronizingly: “Yes, that's just how I'd expect a foal to think. What do you think, Stones? Did your big brother and I ever 'let them go' after they hurt you?”

“No. I... no. You were always right, Loki. You and Styx know best.” the stallion said hesitantly, even as he cast his eyes down and shifted uncomfortably on the spot, and Loki smiled. Then his eyes narrowed slightly when the younger stallion added nervously: “Even if I... don't think you should have hurt Styx... and I really do wish sometimes you would just... let things go...”

“Well we can't, and I didn't hurt him. I simply emphasized my position on the subject.” Loki said shortly, then he reached out and almost yanked Lamp off of the stallion, making them both flinch as the genet flailed at the air, before he was plopped firmly down on Styx. And Lamp chirped worriedly as he clutched at one of Styx's ears, shaking it briefly, and Styx slowly shook himself out before he looked mutely up as Loki cajoled, his horn thrumming faintly with dark magic: “Well, we can't let them ruin this for us, can we? You want to keep your family safe, don't you? You know I'm trying to protect you! She almost manipulated you, Styx, dragged you out of our wonderful eden!”

“No, you... but... if my brother... if he isn't here...” Styx began, his thinking slowed by the poison in his veins, poison that seemed to bubble painfully, that seemed to be working its way deeper into his mind, and Loki scoffed before he suddenly grabbed Styx and hauled him up to his hooves.

But then the trickster smiled, brushing his twin off as he replied gently: “Now, now. I know your mind, Styx, better than you do. If this is a dream... you'll wake up one day, and you'll be able to go right back to where you were. If it's not a dream, you have to protect your brother.” Loki's smile became callous, ruthless. “If you die here, or you die in 'real life' – whatever that means! – then all your savings and everything else goes to your little brother, and he'll never have to work again. You would die to keep him safe, wouldn't you? You would die to keep him safe, just as you'll live to protect us here, won't you, my brother?”

River Styx looked at Loki for a few moments, trapped by both cold logic and ruthless emotion as he bit his lip, breathing slowly in and out, before Loki threw a foreleg around him with a smile. “I never manipulated you. Let's go, stop those monsters from ruining all this.”

“You... made me attack her. You stabbed me.”

“No, I just helped you to see what she really is.” Loki replied irritably, gesturing absently aside with a hoof. “I didn't try to kill her! I just wanted to scare her off, stop her from killing our friend, the Redacted. And then I saved you! I protected you, Styx! You were going to throw yourself at her and get yourself killed, so I just gently helped you sleep the anger off, how could you accuse me, your own brother, of that level of treachery?”

Shining Armor whimpered at this, looking up nervously, and Styx's younger brother simply shifted uneasily away, looking to the side, while Styx stared at Loki, trying to understand as the poison numbed his body, his thoughts, his heart. He tried to make sense of it, but it was too hard. All he could do was listen to Loki, and to the pain in his chest, even as he slurred out: “The Redacted... enemy...”

“We're all too grown up here for black-and-white concepts like good, and evil, Styx. You kill what threatens you. You help what doesn't. Right now, the Redacted is no threat to us. Trust me.” Loki smiled, cold, callous, before he suddenly became cheerful again as he wrapped a foreleg around his twin. “Either way, time for a family trip! You can come too, Shining Armor, if you don't mind being scrunched in the back seat.”

Shining Armor lowered his head, and then the child whispered: “I just want my big sister to play with me again. I don't want to hurt anyone.”

“A needle, a prick, a single bit of pain, little one, and then they'll be able to play with us forever.” Loki said emphatically, smiling down at the colt. “I don't want to hurt anyone, either. But I know that sometimes it's very important we discipline our friends and family, so they don't hurt themselves or us. Do you understand, little colt?”

Shining Armor only shifted, and Loki smiled before he half-dragged Styx forwards, the once-proud stallion only able to lower his head and stumble at his twin's side with his head full of malice and muddled thoughts, as Lamp whimpered worriedly on his head, and his young brother and Shining Armor followed behind, humble and afraid.

But they, too, could feel the infection growing in them. The tumor, the cyst, had broken open: the precarious balance had been shattered with the death of the manifestation of greed and selfishness, the only thing that had controlled despair and hate, the only thing that had stopped the destroyer from consuming, poisoning, obliterating all in its short-sighted path. Lust for power and victims had driven Plutocrat to play his part both feeding the darkness and controlling it, with the knowledge that he needed a world to act as prison and palace; with him gone, only the beast remained, and the beast only cared about feeding, like a virus, until the host was destroyed.

And even as the Narrator's world is poisoned by the Redacted's powers, as those fragments made from emotions and memories, ether-given-life, even though the play is over, and the masks are being torn off, and their true nature all revealed, the actors still can't help but play their roles, those victims who had been drawn into this endless spiral still fighting, fighting against a foe they can never hope to best, as all hope is drained from the world. As their fight, their acknowledgment of the enemy makes their enemy only more real, only more powerful, just as Styx's confused mind has given life to Loki, born into the grip of Redacted power, who now fed greedily off Styx, and Styx's love, and Styx's passion, turning it all to a quagmire of confusion and helpless hopelessness.

The play will come to a crashing halt soon, so very soon.

And the humble Narrator can but apologize and mourn for all the mistakes he has made, in trying to make Heaven, and only shaping a Hell he cannot fix.