Second Opinion
Urabrask was not having a good day. Iron production was down four percent. A viron had fallen head first into a rage extractor, and the recycling and replacement of both would take away hundreds of laborer-hours from other projects. Oh, and Skithiryx had been destroyed, which had restored the morale of the Ungulans, which meant open conflict.
Urabrask loathed war. It certainly had its uses, but it was a massive time and resource sink. The opportunity cost was staggering: forfeited production, delayed infrastructure improvements, lost personnel, assembling new personnel from the lost personnel, it was all just so horribly wasteful.
Still, just because the praetor of the Quiet Furnace hated the cost of conflict didn't mean he was going to surrender his holdings in the new plane. He fought all the harder, channeling his resentment into the destruction and reforging of those who inspired it.
Though he'd never tell Gitaxias, Urabrask had to admit that his brother's portal technology was a valuable tactical asset, especially with the modifications his own forces had applied. He could deploy forces virtually anywhere in or on the contested mountain, and the incompleat were powerless to stop him.
Well, nearly powerless. When a pack of slash panthers charged through the large-scale portal to flank a group of the bipedal canids, a rain of javelins pinned several of the constructs to the side of the mountain. One of the missiles glanced off of a panther's iron hip, ricocheting through the portal and into the operator's chest, less than a yard to Urabrask's left. The human fell back from the console with barely a gurgle.
Four griffins pounced down on the surviving panthers, their spears driving through heads and motivators. Atop the pile of twitching mechanisms, one chimera pointed toward the still open gate between worlds and squawked something.
The largest of the four responded and crept towards the portal, spear wrapped in its tail for easy access. It remained tensed, ready for an ambush or a second wave, but nothing came. Its stance relaxed a little with every step, a grin forming on its beak. Once it passed halfway through the gateway, its gaze snapped to Urabrask and it stumbled back in surprise. The rosy gloom of the Furnace, noted the praetor, must have been too dim against the light of day for it to make out any distinct features.
By this time, the griffin had recovered. Now it pounced at Urabrask, oversized eagle talons outstretched as it screeched a warcry.
Urabrask went from motionless contemplation to blurring action in an eyeblink. In less than two seconds, he leapt at the griffin, slammed a claw through its chest, clutched its heart, filled the organ with fire magic, and tossed the stunned, dying creature back through the portal. Once it struck one of its comrades, it exploded, taking out the entire quartet.
The Hidden One zipped back and forth between planes, gathering the bodies of three fleshy griffins and eight partially artifactual cats. Once the resources were collected, he hit the kill switch, and the portal dissolved in a flurry of red sparks.
Urabrask moved to the body of the portal operator. The spearhead had gone through his neck, leaving his head attached largely by two lengths of skin. "What a waste," sighed the praetor. "Juex."
"Yes, Lord." The creature who stepped forward was bipedal, its skin giving way to blackened metal plates like cooling lava from the chest up. It had no neck, its torso instead sloping forward and opening in a jagged-fanged maw. Two thin arms on its left side clutched a staff while a single muscular limb on its right was cut off just below the elbow. Mounted to the stump was a thick plug of iron, the other side of which sprouted several flails.
"You did nothing to stop the intruder," Urabrask noted, moving the human's cadaver next to the others.
"You seemed tense, Lord," explained Juex. "I knew you were in no danger, and I thought you would appreciate the stress relief."
"Hmm." The praetor nodded towards the corpse pile. "See that these get reprocessed. Then find a new portal operator. If none are available, have one trained."
"Of course, Lord." Juex bowed, turned, and bellowed, "SQUEALSTOKERS!" A panicked gibbering piped up on the edge of hearing, growing louder.
Urabrask exited the portal facility. So much to do, so little time...
Jin-Gitaxias sighed once he received the frantic mind missive. "It never fails," he muttered, retracting his fingers. "As soon as I get to the best part, something always comes up." He connected to the neural network that served as Lumengrid's public address system, unable to keep a trace of annoyance from leaking into his voice as he announced, "Anatomist to Vivisectorum Eight to continue specimen analysis. Acknowledge."
Once his underlings had sorted who would take his place, the praetor nodded to the transcriptor, then the specimen. "I regret that I cannot give you more of my personal attention, my dear, but duty calls."
The unicorn, with half of the keratin sawed off of her horn and a few needles stuck into the exposed nervous tissue, didn't respond.
Gitaxias knew every corridor of his seat of power like the back of his hand, having designed both. This was especially useful for emergencies where he needed to bypass those corridors entirely, since it allowed him to teleport to any point in the complex with a minimum of effort. He appeared in the portal complex in a flash of light, taking stock of the situation as soon as he materialized. "All right, what's so important that it... couldn't... wait, what?"
"Hello, sir!" Twilight beamed at him from the middle of a heap of components that had once been an interplanar portal.
"Hello, Miss Sparkle," answered the augur in the sort of measured, neutral voice that speaks of barely controlled rage.
Jin turned to the group of subpraetors behind him, who seemed rather closer to the room's exit than a few moments before. He singled out the greatest among them and spoke to her in his throat-scouring native tongue. "Rhmir, why was this permitted to progress this far?"
Rhmir, Hand of the Augur, second only to Gitaxias himself, cringed. Since she'd been made in his image (though not exactly; no sense in suborning a true equal,) it was almost like the praetor's very reflection was cowering before him. "It is like the previous not-us," she explained. "Its status is unclear, as are to what disciplinary measures it is subject."
Gitaxias pondered this for a moment, finally giving a slow, reluctant nod. "I have been remiss in establishing her place in the greater hierarchy. That will be rectified. Still, I never suspected that she would take such extreme actions."
Rhmir pursed her fingers and clacked them nervously. "What will you do, my lord?"
"We will have to be..." An unsettling grumble echoed from somewhere in the praetor's thorax as he employed a word rarely heard in the Phyrexian language: "...delicate. She is a valuable asset, but to preserve that value, her mind and body must be allowed to compleat themselves with minimal external input."
"Then she will not suffer for this transgression!?" Rhmir cried.
Gitaxias shook his head. "Oh, she will pay. Not through pain, but through labor."
With that, he turned back to Twilight, who was examining a power conduit held in her telekinesis. "Miss Sparkle," the praetor said in Equestrian, "what exactly do you think you're doing?"
She set down the bundle of wire and smiled at him, her expression filled with the joy of discovery. "Well, sir—" She frowned, cutting herself off. "Wait, is that how I should address you?"
"It will do. Answer the question." After a moment's consideration, Jin added, "Please."
"Well," gushed Twilight, "I just couldn't sleep, and really, who could? An interplanar portal? I had to see how it worked for myself! I tried asking directions, but everexian—"
"'Everexian'?"
Twilight shrugged. "I can't go around saying 'everypony,' can I?"
"'Everyone,' perhaps?"
"I guess that works. Anyway, nore... er, no one was being cooperative, so I just felt along the time-space fabric of the universe for anomalies consistent with intrusions into a greater twelve-dimensional omnicosmos and followed them until I found this prototype."
"Prototype?" echoed Gitaxias.
Twilight scowled at the parts surrounding her. "Well, it certainly seems more like a proof of concept than a production model." She hoisted the cable she'd been scrutinizing earlier. "I mean, just take this manacoil. It's completely uninsulated, so you've got incredible power loss as it leaks into the greater superstructure. Furthermore, you've got to compensate for the standing charge you've built up in the frame, so that's a whole other subsystem you've got to power, and then you have to deal with the leakages from that... It's a mess!" Her expression briefly passed through alarm on its way to incredulity. "You... you haven't actually been getting to Equestria with this piece of junk, have you?"
"Do you think you could do better?" There was no mockery or bruised ego in Gitaxias's question, merely curiosity.
The unicorn smirked. "Does Princess Celestia like cake?"
"Does she?"
Twilight gave a nervous chuckle. "Um, sorry. Rhetorical question. I mean, yes, I could easily make a more efficient design."
The praetor nodded. "Then do so. Now."
"N-now?" Twilight swallowed. "Um, b-but I..."
"This is no time for false modesty, Miss Sparkle," Gitaxias explained. "You have dismantled the fruit of years' worth of trial and error and found it wanting. If you can improve the design, then your criticism was not only justified, but necessary. If you cannot, you have committed malicious sabotage and will be dealt with as a saboteur." While his tone was calm and even, here he extended the fingers of one hand to emphasize the point. "I would greatly regret having brought you all this way only for you to fail us so soon."
"Fail?" Twilight's pupils shrank to pinpricks. For a moment, the Tiara of Magic, now permanently bonded to her skull, glimmered with an eldritch light. The unicorn looked at the parts around her with a newfound, terrible purpose. "I may need additional components."
"Of course." Gitaxias looked over his shoulder and rattled out a few words of Phyrexian at his subordinates, who then fled for the exit. Turning back to Twilight, the praetor assured her, "A drone will be sent in shortly. It will understand your every word and will fetch whatever you need, so long as we have it. Remember that this world is very different from your own, and many materials whose abundance you take for granted will be rare or even nonexistent here."
"The converse may also be true," Twilight muttered, her horn aglow as she sorted parts and materials by some just-devised system. "Materials precious in Equestria could be common as dirt here."
"Soil is an excellent example of what I was talking about," noted Jin.
"It's an expression," the unicorn snapped, deep in thought. "What about crystals? Gemstones?"
Gitaxias shook his head. "Rare to the point of mythical status. It is said that there is but one opal in all the world."
"Banish it. I'll figure out something. I won't fail you, sir."
"I trust that you won't, Miss Sparkle." The praetor walked out, well pleased with himself.
Lyra did a double take when she saw the next volunteer. "I'd never have expected you."
The other mare shrugged. "Well, what can I say? 'Now is the time for all good ponies to come to the aid of their country,' right?"
"True enough," allowed the unicorn.
"Besides, there's the question of training. There's been great turnout, but if nopony knows what they're doing, then they're nothing but cannon fodder."
"Hey!" Cannon Fodder frowned at the mares from his place in line.
"No offense."
"That's where you come in," Lyra surmised.
"Well, I can't promise they'll be up to Guard standards, but they definitely won't embarrass themselves."
"Given the timeframe, that's almost more than we could ask for." Lyra offered her hoof. "Welcome to the Ponyville Militia, Sarge."
The earth mare smiled as they shook hooves. "Oh, you don't have to call me Sarge. I'm only Sarge to the recruits. For you, I'm still just Cheerilee."
"Rarity?" The disguised unicorn turned and beheld a befuddled Rainbow Dash clad head-to-hoof in a fog poncho that went quite nicely with her coat. "What are you doing here?"
While the actual unicorn hesitated for a moment, her illusory self didn't so much as bat an eyelash. "I could ask you the same thing, Rainbow. I didn't think nails and plywood saw much use in a house made of clouds."
"They don't," answered Dash. She jerked her head back, indicating the two broad white tubs balanced on her back. "Nimbus epoxy does. So what about you? I figured if you ever had a home repair problem, you'd just make googoo eyes at the nearest stallion."
"Well!" Rarity threw up her muzzle in indignation before bringing it back down to glare at the pegasus. "I'll have you know that when I moved into the Boutique, my father made sure I was sufficiently acquainted with household upkeep that I'd never have to so shamelessly exploit my feminine wiles."
Dash took a moment to parse this. "I didn't hear a 'no.'"
Rarity betrayed not a jot of awareness of the observation. "Why the coat, if I may ask? Going storm herding in the Everfree?"
The talk of weather work waylaid the wing-warped mare. "Are you kidding? Ever since AJ told us about the extra-creepy stuff in there, I've made sure everypony knows to stay out of Everfree airspace."
The unicorn nodded. "Very wise of you. So, the coat?"
Dash looked at the oilcloth as though she'd just noticed it. "Oh. Huh. Would you look at that? Um..." She shifted uneasily for a moment, her hooves tapping out a brief, anxious staccato. "Um... say, what happened over at your place? I might be able to help."
Rarity smiled and gave her friend a knowing look. "It's kind of you to offer, Rainbow Dash, but that was a horribly transparent attempt to change the subject."
Something on the floor caught Dash's attention. "I let it work for you..." she grumbled.
The designer had the decency to look embarrassed. "I suppose you did." She sighed. "I think it's clear that we're both here for reasons we'd rather not discuss." She held out a forehoof. "Truce?"
Dash nodded eagerly. "Truce." She took the hoof in her own.
Well, she tried to. She ended up going right through it. Her eyes widened in shock as she stared at Rarity.
The alabaster mare was tittering at herself. "Oh, silly me, I went and forgot—" She finally noticed her friend's reaction. "Rainbow Dash?"
"G-g-g-g-g-g-g-g..."
"Oh, please don't do anything foalish, dear. Especially not in such a public venue."
"GHO-ff!" Dash's cry was cut muffled midway by a now-solid white hoof stuffed into her mouth.
Rarity paused for a moment, waiting to see if the outcry had attracted any attention and trying not to think about what Dash's desperate gnawing was doing to her hooficure. As the true her knelt next to the pegasus, forehooves synchronized with those of her disguise, she whispered, "Now listen carefully, Dash. I am not a ghost. Nor am I a specter, a wraith, or any other such thing. I am simply in a state that I'd like to keep from prying eyes and gossiping tongues. I suspect your situation is rather similar, correct?"
Dash nodded reluctantly.
"Alright then. Do you promise not to scream if I uncover your mouth?"
Another nod, this one with no hesitation.
"Good." Rarity uncovered Dash's mouth. In defiance of narrative tradition, Dash didn't scream. The fashionista beamed. "Now, let us gather our purchases, be on our respective ways, and never speak of this again!"
The pegasus frowned. "Rarity, I know I'm not gonna be able to hide this forever, and for all your magic, neither will you. I'm gonna tell AJ and Fluttershy. And you, once we're somewhere where nopony else can see us. You should, too."
Rarity responded with a high, throaty laugh. "Au contraire, dear Rainbow. As long as I keep my wits about me, this illusion of mine is foolproof!"
Seriousness clouded Dash's expression. "Rarity, I'm speaking from experience here: ignoring or hiding a problem doesn't fix it, it just lets it get worse. You're gonna mess up. You already have, for Celestia's sake! I'm not saying everypony in town's gotta know, but you should at least tell your friends."
Rarity sat and thought on this for a moment. Dash joined her, trying to gauge her thoughts by watching her face. After a short time, the designer sighed and stood. "You're absolutely right, Rainbow Dash." Her lips curved into a sly smile. "What a strange day this is if you're acting as the voice of reason."
Deash wingshrugged underneath her poncho. "If I'm not there for my friends when they've made mistakes I already have, then what good am I?"
Rarity nodded. "Too true. When were you planning on telling us your little secret?"
"Um, I hadn't quite figured out that part," Dash admitted. "Do you know where Flutts and AJ are right now?"
The knock on her door came as a surprise to Fluttershy. Most ponies came to her for veterinary care only when Mane Goodall was fully booked, and by the time that happened, Dr. Goodall had already asked for her help. Still, no sense in being rude. "Hello?"
"Howdy!" A yellow-coated, green-maned earth mare beamed at her.
"Eep!" Fluttershy stumbled back, caught off guard by the enthusiastic greeting.
"Golly, Ah'm sorry." The stranger approached and knelt. "Didn't mean t' give ya a scare, there. Y' okay, miss?"
"Oh, y-yes, thank you." Fluttershy offered a shy smile as she stood back up. "Sorry, I'm rather easily startled."
The other pony nodded. "Well, Ah kin see that." She looked around and frowned. "Aw, shoot, Ah'm early, ain't Ah?"
"I beg your pardon?" Fluttershy definitely didn't recall arranging anything that a pony could be early for. Was this for a surprise party? "Did Pinkie Pie send you?"
Her guest shook her head. "'Fraid Ah don't know no Pinkie Pie. Cousin Applejack called us all t' Ponyville."
"So, you'd be..."
"Didn't Ah say? Ah'm Apple Fritter." Fritter sighed. "An' it looks like Ah showed up too dang early. Again."
Fluttershy swallowed. "Uh, are you, um, entirely sure you came to the right house? This, well, it isn't Sweet Apple Acres. You probably knew that but..."
Apple Fritter nodded. "Oh, real sure. Jackie's letter made that much clear. Th' cottage just outside th' forest."
"Ah. I see." Fluttershy could feel her wings twitching. "A-and exactly how many members of her family did Applejack invite to my house?"
"Cain't say fer sure." Fritter pondered it for a moment. "She sent out letters to near every Apple in Equestria, but Ah figgered it'd be better t' just come instead o' waitin' fer a rusvup t' get here first."
"An RSVP?"
"Yeah, one o' them."
"Ah." Unnoticeable in the daylight, Fluttershy's mane began to fluoresce as her inherent kindness magic struggled against her building rage. "I tell you what, Miss Fritter. You make yourself comfortable, and I'll see if I can't find your cousin."
Apple Fritter rubbed one foreleg against the other. "Well, Ah don' wanna impose. Ah kin always just find a hotel fer th' night."
"Oh, it's no trouble at all," Fluttershy assured her. "Applejack and I will be back before you know it."
"Well, that's awful kind of ya, but—"
"Before. You. Know it." Fluttershy wasn't quite using the full-fledged Stare on the unsuspecting Apple, but the unblinking insistence was nearly as good.
"S-sure. Ah'll just wait here." Apple Fritter sat on the couch and avoided eye contact as her hostess left. "Hoo boy. Cousin, Ah don' envy you one bit."
Fluttershy didn't have far to go. As soon as she stepped out of her house, she spotted an orange dot on the horizon. She marched towards it, purpose-driven.
Applejack smiled as she saw Fluttershy approach. "Howdy, sugarcube!" The farmer paused as her friend grew closer and the scowl on her face became clear. "Uh, everythin' alright?"
"Applejack," Fluttershy intoned, "why is one of your cousins in my house, expecting more of your family?"
The earth mare frowned as she considered this. "Well, that's funny. Ah was comin' t' tell ya... Ah shoot, Fritter came early, didn't she? Ah swear, that filly'd show up fer th' Summer Sun Celebration come Winter Wrap-Up."
"Applejack." Fluttershy appeared in no mood for folksy family foibles. "I have enough trouble with the ponies I see in town every day. Why are you sending an entire clan of overexcited, extraverted strangers to my house?"
Applejack sighed. "Th' way Ah see it, we've got enough troubles without th' whole dang Everfree goin' rotten an' burstin' all over Equestria like somepony stepped on it. Ah didn't call no hootenanny, Fluttershy. Ah called in an army."
"Oh." The pegasus gathered the dregs of her indignation. "Well, in the future, could you tell me beforehoof, please?"
Applejack smirked. "That's what Ah was comin' t' tell ya now, sugarcube. Fritter jus' went an' jumped th' gun is all."
"I see." The pair began walking back to Fluttershy's cottage as she noted, "You know, Angel has been doing something similar with the woodland critters."
"Somehow, that don't surprise me much. Li'l fella's got more surprises in 'im than a field o' poison joke."
"I think the two of you should work together," continued Fluttershy. "It's just a thought, but it seems like together you'd be stronger than the sum of your parts."
Applejack thought on this for a moment. "Ah reckon yer right there, 'Shy. Ah'll have t' warm up th' family t' the idea, but that ain't gonna be much trouble." A thought struck her. "Where is Angel, anyway?"
Archon of Justice fought to keep himself outwardly calm. He doubted that the other party would notice his panic, but soiling himself would do him no favors in this negotiation. "So," he asked, "are we in agreement?"
The reply was a deafening antisound from the other side of silence, a vast auditory void that shaped its words in intervals of normal silence amidst the negative din. WE ARE. YOU WERE WISE TO COME TO ME. MANY OF MY KIND WOULD NOT CARE.
Archon prostrated himself. "You honor me, Great One."
I MERELY SPEAK TRUTH.
The lagomath swallowed. "How will you aid us?" There. He'd said it. No details had been established until now, merely a pledge of assistance.
WHEN THE TIME COMES, YOU WILL KNOW. NOW GO.
Archon did so, dignity discarded for the sake of speed.
"Trixie! Trixie!"
The blue unicorn muttered something that blurred the line between unintelligible and unprintable, then turned so she was facing the wall.
"Come on, Trixie! Today is the first day of the rest of your research!"
Trixie clenched her teeth. She might have heard Princess Celestia's stories about Twilight secondhoof from Luna, but she distinctly recalled the unicorn's behavior in the morning being described as "drowsily adorable." This was neither.
There came the sound like a fork on a wineglass magnified a hundredfold. Tink tink tink. "Trixie." Tink tink tink. "Trixie." Tink tink tink. "Trixie."
"WHAT!?" Trixie screamed. "What do you want, Twilight? What couldn't possibly wait until I woke up normally? And what were you using to make that infernal racket?"
"Could you open the door first?" came the sheepish reply.
Grumbling foul curses that countless invocations had proved totally powerless, Trixie trudged to the access valve and, not knowing how she'd locked it in the first place, simply smacked it with a forehoof.
To her surprise, this worked. The door dilated, revealing Twilight, who was grinning like a foal at five in the morning on Hearth's Warming Day. The purple mare entered the room, chattering in a voice far too chipper for any time of day. "So, to answer your questions, going from first to last: Knowledge, science, and, well..." She raised a forehoof, which was coated in flowing silvery metal much like the ponies' surroundings. She then rapidly rapped at Trixie's horn.
Tink tink tink.
Trixie's pupils shrank. "That," she stated, "was not the sound of metal on horn."
"Nope!" gushed Twilight.
"That," continued Trixie, "was metal on metal."
"Yup!"
"How in the name of Discord's mismatched gonads did that happen?"
"I have no idea!" Twilight cried. "Isn't it exciting?" She paused and screwed up her face in disgust. "Also, ew."
Trixie sighed and rubbed a temple. This was going to be a long day. She trotted towards the door. "Well, let's—" She stopped as she realized she was walking on all four legs, yet was still physically massaging her face. "What the..."
"Fascinating!" Twilight had found a notebook somewhere and was currently scribbling notes. "Some sort of articulated trichtodendrite structure. It might be connected directly to your cerebellum!"
"What..." Much to Trixie's relief, her magic felt no different from before, even with a metal horn. The Summon Mirror spell came to her as easily as ever, and with it she could see the change for herself.
Like live worms in vermicelli, cobalt-chrome wires writhed in her mane. Each ended in a set four nasty little snappy things somewhere between teeth and claws. Trixie willed the mirror out of existence and looked at Twilight in terror. "What's happening to me?"
The valve to the suite opened again, and the revealed Clinical Trial answered her question. "You are becoming compleat, Miss Hobbitses. This way, please, ladies."
As the sun set outside, Lyra sighed and laid back in her basement "thinking chair," a comfortably overstuffed lounger she'd made by heavily modifying a love seat. She watched the golden communication spell form while relishing the lumbar support. When the face of one of her human analogues formed, she asked, "Well?"
The woman in the physical Office of Quantum Affairs (Strings Section) unrolled a scroll and solemnly read, "Hear now the judgement of Bonbon Thronetaker, The Thousand-Voiced, Suneater and Moongobbler, She Who... what?"
The unicorn struggled to contain herself. "Sorry, but it's hard enough taking one of the boss lady's proclamations seriously when it isn't being read by someone in a Playcolt bunny outfit."
The window between worlds was a monochrome gold-and-black, but the other Lyra was almost certainly blushing. "I am not going to take any guff about my outfit from a tiny, naked horse!"
The lounging Lyra raised her hooves in a conciliatory gesture. "Sorry, sorry. Read on, hairless ape."
The woman rolled her eyes and set the scroll aside. "Not after you ruined the mood. Suffice to say, you're approved. Just be careful. Her Bonness doesn't want any Lyras getting hurt."
"Nor do I." Lyra sank into her chair as the gold-glowing cosmic string slowed to a halt and faded. She straightened back up as she heard an unusual sound: Someone else's hooves on the basement steps.
"Lyra?" The worry in Bonbon's tone matched her expression.
The unicorn put her seat back in an upright position and moved towards her fillyfriend. "Hey, Bonnie." She gave the earth mare a loving nuzzle.
Bonbon didn't reciprocate. She looked at the floor, her eyes haunted. "I'm scared, Lyra."
The minty mare smiled. "We all are. You'd have to be crazy not to be."
"It's all just happened so fast. A few days ago, the worst I had to worry about was a strike at the Orlandoats sugar refinery. Now?" Bonbon shuddered.
Lyra embraced her beloved. "It'll be okay, Bonnie. I'll be here for you."
"Will you?"
The question stunned the unicorn. A chill pierced her heart like she'd been stabbed with an icicle. "O-of course I will! I love you with all my heart!"
"The Lyra I know does." Bonbon looked at Lyra, tears soaking into her cheeks. "You? You're a stranger."
The unicorn tightened her hug, if only so she wouldn't have to look into those frightened eyes. "I'm still me, Bonnie. Come what may, I'm always me."
"I want to believe that, but—"
"If you want to believe it, then believe it!" Anger and passion built in Lyra's tone. "Bonbon Dulcinea, I would move mountains for you. I would break my horn. I would do the dishes!"
Bonbon laughed into the unicorn's neck. "Well, if you really feel that strongly."
"I do."
The two held each other for some time, saying nothing. Finally, Lyra said, "Um, by the way..."
Bonbon smiled. "What did you do?"
"Got you an apprentice?"
The smile became a scowl. Bonbon let go of Lyra and looked her in the eye. "And who will I teach how to turn sugar and cream into lethal weapons?"
The unicorn couldn't return her gaze. "Well, you know Doctor Fracture, the pediatrician?"
This prompted a chuckle. "What happened to 'first, do no harm'?"
"It isn't him," clarified Lyra. "It's... his daughter."
"His daughter?" Bonbon recalled old news of a filly with a candy cane cutie mark. "Twist!?"
"She really is quite talented," Lyra muttered.
Bonbon applied hoof to face. "It must be you, Lyra. Only you could make me this frustrated."
Iron Will squeezed his way out of the Friendship Express, trying to avoid permanently warping the pony-scale doorway. Bill, of course, had no such issues.
"I tell ya, Bill," groused the motivational minotaur, "there's just no consideration for the biped in this country. It's like they pick the most pointless concessions on purpose. Park benches? Really? Where are the bedframes that can handle a minotaur's weight? Where are the gorgon-specific hair care products? Where are the menus offering the five basic rock groups critical to a troll's nutrition?"
"Baa," Bill noted.
"It shouldn't matter how much their economy relies on tourism! All I'm saying is that they should do more to acknowledge the presence of the world's non-equinoid peoples."
"Still arguin' politics wit' goats, Bro?" asked a reedy, nasal voice with a Manehattan accent. "Figured you'da given it up for somethin' more rewardin' by now. Like eatin' broken glass."
"Please," rumbled a voice that could throw off nearby seismographs. "He has enough trouble swallowing his pride as it is."
Iron Will grinned. "Sparerib! Chuckmeat! It's been too long!"
Two other minotaurs grinned back. The shorter one was all sinew and gristle, thin to the point of emaciation. He was clad in bicycle shorts, a nose ring similar to Iron Will's, and enough pomade to turn his hair into a shellacked, aerodynamic helmet that was spoiled only by the thin points of the horns that jutted out of it. He simply couldn't stand still, shifting from foot to foot, shaking out his hands, and otherwise burning off nervous energy. His fur was the grey-green of dusty houseplants and habitual envy. "Heh, 'Sparerib.' Ortie ain't called me dat in years. It's good ta see ya, real good."
The other seemed to have claimed the majority of his companion's bulk for his own. He did not merely stand there, he bulged, his muscles seemingly more immense than one body could contain. The slightest movement sent ripples throughout his form that, like echoes in an opera house, never faded away completely. His black hair was buzzed short, his fur the deep red of the muscle underneath, his nose ring struggling for space in his mighty septum. He wore a three-piece suit that was almost audibly straining at the seams. "Quite," he said. "Thanks for the nostalgia trip, Headcheese."
Iron Will chuckled. "Okay, I had that one coming. So, where's the old ox?"
"Baa," Bill said a moment too late.
His boss groaned. "Of course he is." Iron Will turned and knelt. "No offense intended, Your Highness."
The creature to whom he bowed smirked. He seemed chiseled from white marble, his muscles sculpted and defined without the borderline grotesquery of his red vassal. He wore ceremonial plate mail engraved with countless scenes of the minotaurs' martial conquest against nearly every other sapient race on the planet, with the notable exception of ponies. Two pairs of grand horns emerged from the sides of his head, two sweeping forward and two curving up, all gleaming like the tusks of a elephant dentist. Is his nose was an unadorned loop of platinum.
Angus the White, King of Minos, Master of Mazes, He Who is Reminded of the Babe, smiled and punched Iron Will in the shoulder. "Get up, you drama queen. You're going to embarrass us all."
The blue minotaur obeyed and, in the warm grip of nostalgia, fell in between his two brothers.
Angus looked over his impromptu diplomatic corps. "Great Fortitude. Iron Will. Lightning Reflexes. ...Goat."
"Bah."
"My apologies. William Tincanopolous. I have called... most of you here today so that I may demonstrate my commitment to the alliance between Minos and Equestria. You are brave, but not foolish. You are wise, but not pompous. You are honorable, but not chumps. Once you have been formally presented to Celestia, you are to take on the role of tacticians. Equestria has not fought war, true war, in a very long time. You will teach them all they will need to know."
Iron Will frowned. A dangerously ambiguous statement, that one. "And how much will that be?"
Angus looked towards Castle Canterlot. "Look at it, boys. Tall and glittering and beautiful. Their palace doesn't have to be a fortress, a squat iron thing buried at the heart of a labyrinth pretending to be a city."
"How much, Dad?" Iron Will asked again.
The minotaur king was silent for some time. "As much," he finally replied, "as they can handle."
He made for the castle, his back to the setting sun. Neither minotaur nor goat dared to stay behind.
Angus, Lord of Minos 2RGW
Legendary Creature — Minotaur Warrior
Trample
At the beginning of combat on your turn, you may have creatures you control gain battle cry until end of turn. If you do, those creatures attack this turn if able.
Whenever Angus, Lord of Minos deals combat damage to a player, untap all creatures you control.
His command is the pebble that starts an avalanche of horns and hooves.
2/5
Spore Transmutation 2UU
Enchantment
Each permanent with a counter on it is an artifact in addition to its other types.
Mycosynth spores changed flesh to metal, metal to flesh, and Argentum to Phyrexia.
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Most of your cards have been pretty decent but Kuldotha Portal is really broken. At the very least it needs to tap as a cost. As it is you can cast every creature in your hand on turn two.
T1:Play land, play mana dork. Cards in hand:5
T2: Play land, tap mana dork and two land, pay 2 life to play kuldotha portal, pay 2 life, play Emrakul, pay 2 life, play Random dragon with power five or greater. Swing, wipe the opponents board with annihilator 6 from emrakul, win. If they somehow survive, you have another free turn to work with anyway, as well as a mana dork to beat face with if you keep drawing land.
For a modern take on sneak attack, have a look at quicksilver amulet:
1733663 Yeah, in retrospect, recreating Sneak Attack was a horrible, horrible idea. I've changed the card entirely. Thanks for the input.
Knock knock knock. "Penny."
And the one error I spotted:
There is a period where there should not be
Great....Twilight Glados.......
1734047
It was inevitable.
1734209
Eventually, the muffin will be revealed to be a lie..........
Minotaurs named after D&D feats!
So, does Angus have other sons named Superior Fortitude, Superior Will, and Superior Reflexes?
Once again, another wonderful chapter.
1733755 It's a very small step from grade school teacher to drill instructor, and that step largely consists of not bothering to hold back your anger.
1734047 1734209 She does what she must because she can for the good of all of us, even the ones who are dead at the moment!
Also, Lumengrid Science thanks you for not discussing the veracity or existence of Lumengrid Science Test Subject Baked Incentives in areas and/or at times where and/or when you might be overheard by Lumengrid Science Test Subjects.
1736039 Sadly, no. Nor will any of these sons, upon shows of great valor and prowess, be given the honorific of "Improved."
Discord has mismatched gonads?
Starting to feel like I missed a college course in lore, and I don't mean the MtG stuff.
No. Just, just no.