CRISIS: Equestria - Divergence, Book 2

by GanonFLCL

Chapter Fourteen: Triage

Power Flux sat in his chair at the concrete table, fidgeting slightly to try and make himself comfortable. That was the problem with making most of one's workplace furniture out of the remains of a building that had been rotting underground for longer than one had been alive: it wasn't exactly optimized for comfort. He spent most of his time on his hooves, too, walking around and overseeing the work of his fellows, so there was little he wanted more than to be able to sit in comfort at times.

Such was the nature of maintaining the secret nature of their group.

For now he just stared quietly at the two cloaked individuals across from him at the table, listening intently to their tale as he tried to find just the right position to sit in. The room was lit by a simple scented candle, lavender and vanilla this time—he was tiring of sandalwood—if only so he could read the expressions of his comrades and block out the stench of rot simultaneously.

"After that, we lost all contact with the strike team," said one of the two, a blue-coated unicorn stallion. "Nothing but radio static, some of the strongest I've ever heard, as if the radios all shut off at once. When the static finally cleared, nopony responded to my attempts to communicate."

"I saw the crowd fleeing from the emergency exits from my perch," said the other, a red-coated pegasus mare. "But I couldn't get a good enough angle to see inside the building, especially with all the lights out. I definitely know that our team didn't come out, even after the lights came back on."

"Not through the planned route, at any rate," added the stallion. "I even double-checked both of the alternate exit routes we'd scoped out, but there wasn't any sign of them."

Flux rubbed his chin, leaning forward just enough in his seat to stay comfortable. "Did either of you get any visual confirmation of what happened to the team? Of what happened inside the establishment?"

They both shook their heads. "After we lost contact, we fell back to the rally point to wait. Nopony showed up," said the mare. "We waited an hour, as agreed upon. The CIA or NPPD, maybe both, were surely at the scene by then, so we couldn't do much else."

"Hmm… then it would appear as if our target was too much for our team to handle," Flux muttered, rapping his hoof on the table. This was all excessively aggravating. The plan had been so perfect, and yet it had failed. How? "I don't suppose either of you managed to recover the Leaders' gift to us? The dagger that I gave to Brother Melon?"

Again, they both shook their heads.

"Shit. That was our key to dealing with the rest of those traitorous worms. Without it, and without any bait for a trap, we are at a distinct disadvantage. There will need to be some rethinking moving forward." He grunted and waved the two off. "Go, my friends. Rest. Your moment to shine will come soon enough."

They nodded. "Thank you, Brother Flux," they said in unison. They then headed out of the room together without another word and without looking back.

Flux tapped his hoof on the table impatiently for a few moments, then he abruptly rose from his seat and made his way out of his "office", which had been carved into the remains of a small room that may likely have once been a proper managerial office. The halls outside were tight and short, so it did not take long for him to get further into the hideout and find the pony he needed to see most at the moment.

Skyfall was in the midst of torturing one of their latest acquisitions, a thin earth pony stallion who still had enough fight left in him to struggle against his bonds. Flux liked to watch Skyfall work; the other pegasus was skilled at the art of making his victims writhe with agony, breaking their spirit with words and tools so as to best prepare their souls for their Dark Lady's taking.

At the moment, his fellow pegasus was employing a poker and a blowtorch to tease the hapless victim's nethers. It was surprisingly precise work, actually. If the implements were too far away, the heat was just bearable enough and posed minimal risk; if they were too close, they'd risk permanently injuring the target and then there would be nothing left to torture. It was all about finding the exact distance.

"Brother Skyfall," Flux interrupted, doing so carefully so as not to startle his comrade and ruin his work. "There has been a development, and we must discuss our ongoing plans. May I draw you away from your work for a moment?"

Skyfall shut off the blowtorch and lifted his protective goggles; Flux watched the tortured stallion breathe a brief sigh of relief. "We can talk now if you'd prefer. I can multitask."

Flux gave him a small smile. "Very well, then. Carry on."

Skyfall smirked, nodded, set his goggles back over his eyes, relit the blowtorch, and got back to work. The tortured stallion's relief had been so fleeting that he may as well have not even gotten any in the first place. It was wonderful, actually, watching his spirit rise only to be crushed in the next instant.

"What do you wish to discuss, Brother?" Skyfall asked.

"Today's strike has met with… unpleasant results," Flux grunted. "The entire strike team failed to report in following their encounter with the lascivious traitor, and we lost our most valuable asset in the process."

Skyfall nodded shortly. "I see. Then the CIA will likely be on the scene soon to investigate, if they aren't already. Surely the traitor's blood magic was more potent than we thought it was if she could overpower the Leaders' gift."

"Or perhaps Brother Melon made a mistake and was unable to properly strike her with it," said Flux, stroking his chin. He shook his head. "In either case, the dagger is lost for now. Normally I would suggest recovering it from the CIA headquarters, but no doubt the traitors will bring it with them to their accursed tower to study it."

"That… complicates things. If they learn what the dagger's material can do, what it's capable of—"

"There will still be no defense against it, should our Leaders deign to provide us with more. They have assured me of that. However, we may need to reconsider our tactics." Flux sighed and leaned against the wall. "The lust-starved one proved more capable than we gave her credit for, and I was led to believe she was the most vulnerable."

"A shame that we lack the information we need to strike at more," Skyfall sighed. "You are certain this was all that our Dark Lady would provide us?"

"It is all that she deemed fit to show me. Too many souls are needed to return Her to Her former glory and give Her true vision beyond the Beacon, far more than we can provide Her with while those traitors still live. It is enough that She can still gaze upon our foes within their tower to provide us with even this scant intel.

"Regardless, we must press forward, Brother," Flux continued, standing up straight again and looking firmly at Skyfall. "You may need to take further steps to ensure your plan does not fail."

Skyfall smirked and turned his full attention to Flux. "My plan is flawless, Brother, believe me. I have taken every step needed to ensure that we can make our strike swiftly and unexpectedly. What's more, I have taken action to ensure that the strike will succeed in its intent regardless of the outcome."

Flux tilted his head, curious. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that no matter how successful I am in the end: whether our strike is true or if it fails, the Dark Lady's goals will be furthered. My plan's success does not rely on the potency of an untested weapon or the willingness of a treacherous whore to flag her tail. No offense to Brother Melon's talents."

"He's not here to take offense."

Skyfall chuckled. "Indeed. No, my plan relies on something far more tangible, something far more difficult to simply discard or ignore." He turned back to his work, pressing the heated poker gingerly against the tortured pony's flesh. "It's a terrible thing to open up old wounds, wouldn't you agree?"

"Indeed I would, Brother Skyfall." Amidst the victim's screams, Flux merely chuckled as he left the room to oversee some other fellow's work.

*****

Curaçao had seen many things in her life, and she'd always believed that she possessed a strong enough stomach to be unbothered by wanton violence.

But whatever her dear sister had done to the stallions here at this arcade was so far beyond anything that Curaçao had ever seen before than she'd found it difficult to look at and retain her composure. She'd counted the bodies and was of the opinion that somehow there was more blood splattered all over the machines, walls, and floors than there had any right to be.

Director Underhoof seemed to share that opinion, as she approached Curaçao with a kerchief over her mouth in a clear attempt to filter out the smell of death and to have handy in case she felt the need to vomit. The CIA Director wore a beige trench coat over her regular, professional clothes—as well as a bulletproof vest—likely to prevent them from being contaminated; Curaçao had done the same—though no vest for her—though her coat was dark brown, not tan.

"Miss Curaçao," Underhoof said with a polite nod. "The Shadow Associate's lauded personal spy. I'd imagined our first in-person meeting to be under slightly less… gorey circumstances. I'm glad I haven't eaten dinner yet."

"The feeling is mutual, Director," Curaçao replied, politely nodding in return. "The Shadow Associate wished for me to thank you for your expedient response in regards to these matters."

"That definitely sounds like her. Did she ask you to say that verbatim?" Underhoof tilted her head towards the scene. "I've got a few of my agents checking out the perimeter and the rest of this bloodbath, and trying to find out why the fuck there wasn't any security detail on duty during the event."

"Yes, that's something I wanted to know as well. The security at this establishment is supposedly top-notch, one of the highest-rated firms in the city. Treasurer Vendetta usually takes good care of his investments, and this is one of the most profitable in his possession."

Underhoof grunted. "That he does. Anyway, my boys and girls said you wanted to meet me over here, so here I am. Something caught your attention, I take it?"

"Oui. Shall we?"

"Lead the way."

They'd convened at the arcade's karaoke bar, since the evidence suggested that the carnage originated here; Curaçao had Velvet's statement to confirm this, but the CIA agents lacked it. The rest of the "bloodbath" was mostly inconsequential to Curaçao, as Velvet didn't remember most of what had happened beyond the urge to kill everypony in the building that had dared to hurt her or her son—or Marée, of course.

The inside of the booth was… quite a sight. Since the CIA crews were still in the process of cleaning up the rest of the carnage, they hadn't gotten here yet beyond a preliminary assessment of the room and removing the body. Curaçao had requested the privilege of investigating this particular scene herself—and with the Director, of course—because this was where Velvet had said everything had started.

The corpse of the earth pony stallion had been removed, of course, though Curaçao had at least seen it before that; the Director would see it later at the morgue and have to settle with pictures from her team for now if she wanted to see it. Curaçao was fairly certain that a pony's skull should not have been able to break the way it did—all at once from all directions—but that's what had happened.

The blood splatter hadn't been cleaned yet because it was still being identified; half of it belonged to the stallion, the other half to another unidentified pony—Velvet, of course. The room looked like one of those abstract expressionist paintings at last year's exhibit at the Whiteworth Heights Art Museum, only with different shades of red on red. Curaçao and Underhoof had to watch their step as they entered so they didn't step in anything, be it blood, fragments of bone, or bits of brain that still lingered about.

"I've seen my fair share of gruesome scenes before," said Underhoof as she eyed a particularly thick glob on the wall, "but this one is something else. This kind of damage wasn't done with any conventional weapons or unicorn magic that I recognize."

"Oui, c'est un affichage assez horrible," Curaçao muttered.

She was left baffled by how exactly Velvet had done this much damage, both in here and out in the arcade. She'd seen her sister's handiwork before, and although that was years ago, the memory was still vivid. Those three stallions deserved what they got back then; attempting to murder Velvet and Pinkie had been most unwise. This entire situation reeked of a repeat attempt, and one far more coordinated and sinister, only there was no Pinkie this time.

Revenge, maybe?

A glimmer of metal caught her eye, stuck just under the karaoke table and soaked in red. She nudged Underhoof gently and pointed it out. "The handle of a weapon, perhaps?" she suggested; the other mare would get the hint and fetch it with her magic so that neither of them had to touch it with their hooves.

Underhoof glanced at it, then nodded. "Good eye."

She lit up her horn and tugged at the handle, loosening whatever it was until it was out in the open. It appeared to be a dagger, it's hilt made of a common metal but with a blade composed of an obsidian-like material. A strange weapon indeed, and no doubt effective at inflicting wounds, but Velvet had said her attacker claimed it to counteract her Hemomancy. Most perplexing.

Bizarrely enough, the perplexing nature of the weapon didn't stop there. As Underhoof pulled the dagger out into the open, her magical field flowed out to encompass the entire weapon rather than just the handle. The instant her magic touched the blade, though, the dagger fell to the floor; Underhoof's magical field had vanished entirely.

"What the—" Underhoof muttered.

She lit up her horn again to grab it, or rather, she looked as though she was trying to do just that. But her horn did not ignite, not even with the slightest of glows.

"What's going on?" she asked nopony in particular, her eyes glancing up at her horn. It appeared perfectly normal, unchanged from how it had looked seconds ago aside from the lack of shine.

Curaçao raised an eyebrow. "Are you alright, Director?"

"My magic isn't working." Underhoof sounded oddly calm for what should have been a concerning experience, though it was likely more curiosity and steel nerves than a lack of fear.

"Quoi? Your magic—" Curaçao paused in thought, then nodded. "It happened as soon as your field touched the blade of the dagger, oui?"

"It certainly seemed that way."

Underhoof made a few more attempts to light up her horn, and though she was managing miniscule sparks, there was little else. The effect wasn't permanent, it seemed, but still effective, and lasted long enough that Underhoof would be effectively defenseless for several minutes. The blade hadn't even touched her or her horn, either, just her magical field.

Now Curaçao was concerned, more than she had been before at any rate. This dagger wasn't designed to specifically Velvet's Hemomancy, but all magic: an anti-magic dagger? What sort of material was this that could cancel out magic so effectively that just touching it with her field caused Underhoof's unicorn magic to falter? Did it depend on the strength of the spell or the user? Would a more powerful unicorn like Dawn be capable of interacting with it safely?

Then she recalled Velvet's report again: the stallion had made mention of foalnapping Caramel and Marée to use as bait for Velvet's sisters. If this dagger was capable of shutting down a unicorn's magic, maybe it would be effective against even Dawn. It would have to be, otherwise why would the attackers have any confidence in handling her? These stallions had a curious vendetta against the family—Velvet said her attacker had called her a "traitor"—and clearly had intelligence pertaining to their abilities, or at least Velvet's.

"Everything alright, Miss Curaçao?" asked Underhoof.

Curaçao perked up and cleared her throat; she hadn't realized she'd been so deep in thought that she'd frozen up. "Quite alright, Director. I was just thinking about the ramifications of an anti-magic material of this sort. It appears to be similar to obsidian, but it is obviously more than that, oui?"

"I would say so. Obsidian doesn't just cancel out magic." Underhoof stroked her chin. "I won't claim to be an expert on magical theory or formulas, but perhaps some sort of enchantment was placed on it?"

"A magic spell that cancels out other magical effects… hmm… that's certainly possible." Curaçao nodded firmly, more to herself than to anypony else. "The Shadow Associate will want to see this."

Underhoof nodded in return. "Absolutely. I'll have a report for her as soon as—"

"Non, Director, the Shadow Associate will want to see this immédiatement. I will be taking it to her directly once we conclude or business here."

Underhoof snorted and narrowed her eyes. "The Shadow Associate would know that she has no authority here, Miss Curaçao, and so should you. This is my case, my evidence, my investigation. I'm just as curious as you are about this dagger, so I promise you that I won't delay—"

"Committee Guidelines, Article Seven, Paragraph Fourteen," Curaçao recited. "By the authority of the Shadow Associate, I am initiating an emergency requisition of material from CIA custody. In this case: the dagger. I think you will find that I am operating in accordance with the guidelines, Director Underhoof."

"I— That's—" Underhoof shook her head. "That guideline is intended for emergency purposes only, typically pertaining to the safety of the entire city or to the wellbeing of the sitting members of the Committee. This is hardly—"

"These assailants were after somepony, Director, somepony important to the Shadow Associate," Curaçao said firmly; she wasn't angry, but knew she had to put every ounce of authority into her voice. "That is why she took a personal interest, and why she sent me to ensure that everything was handled to her exacting standards."

Underhoof tilted her head. "We got a few statements from the crowd that escaped, but nopony was injured or killed apart from a single staff member. Are you suggesting that this…" She paused, pulling a notepad—a paper one!—from her pocket. "Joystick. Are you suggesting he was of some immediate importance to the Shadow Associate?"

"Non, I am not. But there were others here, others who your agents did not collect statements from. But the Shadow Associate and I did, because she is important to the Shadow Associate; she is family, the Shadow Associate's elder sister."

"The Shadow Associate's sister? I was unaware she even had a sister." Underhoof snorted derisively, putting her notepad away. "Though I suppose that's part and parcel to the position, isn't it? Keeping secrets? Same with her personal spy, no doubt."

"A fair assessment."

"Well, regardless of that, I'm not too keen on the idea that the Shadow Associate's sister happened to be here and was attacked… at random…" She paused, her eyes wide. "Wait, does Miss Dawn believe this attack was specifically directed at her sister? That this wasn't just a random robbery?"

Curaçao nodded, glad that the Director was catching on so quickly; it helped to have other intelligent ponies in positions of power. "The statement I took more than suggested it. I regret keeping it from you until now, but the Shadow Associate requested that I maintain discretion unless absolutely necessary."

"Par for the course." She gestured sharply at the dagger. "And that dagger makes you believe it is absolutely necessary?"

"Oui. A weapon that could counteract magic would surely be useful if somepony wanted to kill the Shadow Associate, a unicorn like yourself, wouldn't you agree?"

"I would, yes." Underhoof cleared her throat. "Very well, then you are within your rights under Committee Guidelines to requisition the dagger from my custody, and our verbal exchange will serve as evidence of this transition in accordance to the guidelines. Will that satisfy the Shadow Associate, Miss Curaçao?"

"I believe it will, yes, thank you. The Shadow Associate appreciates your cooperation, as always."

Curaçao stepped further into the bloodsoaked room—blocking out the part of her mind reminding her what she was stepping in—and lifted the dagger up by hoof, careful not to touch the blade. She didn't know what might happen to her if she did, even though she wasn't using her shapeshifting abilities right at that moment. She placed it into a plastic bag and then into her saddlebag, then secured it tightly so it wouldn't become misplaced on the way home.

"Is there anything else you want to tell me about this case that might help my investigation?" Underhoof asked, not even bothering to hide her annoyance. "Or am I supposed to bumble around in the dark some more before figuring out what happened? Like how the Shadow Associate's sister left the scene without being noticed by anypony else in the crowd?"

Curaçao smirked as she wiped her hooves on a kerchief she'd pulled from her bag. "The Shadow Associate has requested that I maintain discretion on a number of things, Director. That is one of them."

"Did she happen to see anything else? Like what happened here, what killed all these robbers? Though I suppose now they can be classified as, what, assassins?"

"J'ai bien peur que non." Curaçao gently set a clean hoof on Underhoof's shoulder. "None of that would help you with your case, though, would it? What matters is finding out who these attackers were, where they came from, where they got their equipment, and most importantly, if there are still more of them out there."

Underhoof gnashed her teeth. "You know, I've cooperated with Miss Dawn on a great many things over the years, especially in regards to the upcoming peace summit. Do you have any idea the hoops I've had to jump through to ensure that 'the agent' will be present at the treaty signing so that Her Majesty Queen Blackburn can take him into custody?"

"Quite aware, Director. We coordinated on the entire ordeal, did we not?"

"Exactly, so you'll forgive me if I've been under the impression that I could count on you and Miss Dawn to cooperate with me on similar issues of importance. Would you say that I was wrong about that, Miss Curaçao?"

Curaçao sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose. She wasn't annoyed with Underhoof's questions in the least, though, but with Dawn's insistence on going about things this way. If it had been up to her, she'd have been open with Underhoof about all of this, but Dawn wanted to keep things under wraps as much as possible. Curaçao thought she was the secretive one; Dawn was proving her wrong time and time again.

"Non, you were not wrong, but the Shadow Associate has requested that I handle this situation in such a way that her family situation does not come to light. I trust I can count on you not to note any of this conversation in your files, oui?"

"I'm more than fine with keeping secrets. What I'm not fine with is having secrets kept from me that affect my work."

"I can assure you that there is unlikely to be a repeat of this in the future," Curaçao said, reassuringly patting Underhoof's shoulder. "You must understand that whoever these attackers were, they came after Miss Dawn's family, and she's taking that matter very personally. She won't admit it, but I know her: she's afraid."

Underhoof bit her tongue, but nodded. "I get it. I do."

"If there's anything that we can offer that will help you with your investigation, we would be happy to share, but for now… make due with what you have."

"Why do I get the feeling that you're personally invested in this just as much as Miss Dawn is? Hmm?" Underhoof snorted, smirked, and shook her head. "They're your family too, aren't they? Dawn and her sister?"

Curaçao smirked right back. "See? Things like that are why you're in charge of the CIA. You read between the lines." She stepped out of the room. "The Shadow Associate thanks you again for your cooperation, Director Underhoof, and requests an update on the investigation if you discover anything of note, no matter how trivial it might seem."

"I don't suppose you want to stick around and help me dig through more blood and guts to find out what the fuck happened here, do you?"

"I'm afraid not. I have important business to attend to." Curaçao gave Underhoof a polite nod. "Best of luck with your investigation."

Underhoof waved her off dismissively. "Yeah yeah, whatever. Tell your sister I'll take care of everything. It's all I'm good for anyway. Something's off about this whole deal, and that's besides what you're not telling me. If this was an assassination attempt, then how did they know where your sister was going to be and when she'd be there?"

Curaçao gave Underhoof a deadly serious look. "That is something that I would very much like to know."

*****

Velvet sat alone in the emergency care room at Pandora Tower wearing nothing more than a medical gown. She was more quiet and contemplative than she'd been in a long while, and felt more than a little scared about what happened and was still happening. She'd already been attended to following the afternoon's… events, and had come away from everything with a clean bill of health.

Her powers had steadily returned in full and healed the injuries she'd sustained, including the grizzly scars she'd gotten from the stab wounds. A part of her wanted not to heal the injuries entirely, to keep a token of what had happened to remind her of her stupid mistake. But as expected, her blood magic operated almost entirely independently of her own input and healed her before she could even think otherwise.

She wasn't actually alone in the room, of course. Caramel rested in the care bed, breathing steadily but still unconscious. The collection of monitors by his side indicated that he was alive and stable, but that was all that they could tell her. They couldn't tell her why he wasn't awake, or if he was actually okay, or if he was going to be okay.

There came a brief knock at the open door, and Nurse Soft Touch walked in holding her datapad; behind her was Pedigree, who looked as solemn as Velvet had ever seen him. The last time she could remember him looking so down was some five years ago, when she'd told him about her condition. He was a good friend, more supportive than anypony else she knew, which was saying a lot considering how much Curaçao and Havoc had done for her in the wake of the news.

"Miss Velvet," said Soft Touch with a brief nod. "How are you feeling? Is everything recovering okay?"

Velvet nodded and wiped her nose on her sleeve. "I'm just fine, Nurse, thanks. Physically, anyway." She gave Pedigree a small wave. "Hey, Pedi. Come to check up on me?"

"On you, and on Caramel and Marée, of course," Pedigree said, stepping over to set his hoof reassuringly on her shoulder. "Marée's wing is going to be okay, by the way. Just a minor sprain; she'll be flying again by tomorrow morning. Figured you should know."

"That's good. Thanks, Pedi. I wanted to go check on her, but… but I…"

"It's okay, I understand," he said, rubbing her shoulder. He glanced at Caramel. "Believe me, I understand." He gestured at Soft Touch. "I was just speaking with the nurse about what to expect."

"Anything new you can tell me?" she asked, looking from him to the nurse and back.

"I've got some good news, and some bad news," Soft Touch said, glancing at her chart. "The good news is of course that he's alive, and what's better, the injury wasn't severe enough to cause permanent damage. The bullet missed his spine by about half an inch; he was lucky. He'll recover from the wound eventually like it never even happened, apart from the scar."

Velvet breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank the stars. I've been sitting here terrified that he was gonna be paralyzed. Did… did I help?" she asked. "I used my blood magic on him when I saw he'd been shot. I never tried to do that before, but… I knew that I had to do something."

Soft Touch nodded softly. "He lost a lot of blood from what I can tell, but you managed to… hmm. The best I can describe it, you performed a sort of blood transfusion, only you did it with blood that wasn't his, or exactly clean. I don't know how you did it but you even got his rare blood type right. Not to worry, I already finished up with a proper transfusion; he'll be fine on that front."

"Phew…" She gulped. "You… you said there was bad news, too?"

The nurse took a short breath. "The bad news is that he suffered a lot of severe internal trauma, but not from any sort of injury that I've been able to find. Based on his file, I suspect that it might have been related to the drawback from using his shadow magic." She flipped through the document on her datapad. "All signs point to possible hypothermia."

Pedigree sighed. "I knew I should have made him wear the suit under his clothing, just to be on the safe side, no matter stupid he thought he looked in public."

"We couldn't have known what was going to happen, Pedi," Velvet said, patting his side. "It's not your fault, okay? It's mine. The only reason this happened is because of me, because I was irresponsible. I never thought anypony would or could do anything like this… not to me. Not to us."

She looked to the nurse. "Is he going to be okay? Please tell me he's going to be okay."

"At the moment, I can't give you a confident diagnosis," Soft Touch said gently, obviously struggling to do so. "The gunshot combined with the use of his powers exacerbated his potential recovery time. It could be days. It could be weeks. I don't anticipate anything longer than that, but… the nature of working with these magic drawbacks makes it difficult to predict."

Velvet looked at Pedigree, desperate and wide-eyed. "Pedi, is there anything you can do?"

"I'll be looking into his genetic data to see if I can find any possibility of treating the condition with medication," Pedigree said simply. "But considering that the only solution I found to prevent the hypothermia in the first place was the suit, I don't know if there's anything more I can do. The drawbacks are finicky in nature, difficult to counteract."

"He just needs to stay warm and have his rest," Soft Touch added. "He is otherwise stable, but it may take his brain some time to recover from the strain of the encounter. All I can advise you to do, Miss Velvet, is to be patient. Your son will recover, it's just a matter of time."

Velvet paused, then sunk down in her seat and nodded. "Yeah… thanks, Nurse. I appreciate it."

"Always happy to help, Miss Velvet." She gave Velvet a nod, then did the same to Pedigree. "Overseer. I'll leave you two alone so you can talk."

"Thanks, Nurse," said Pedigree. After Soft Touch was out of the room, he turned to Velvet and sighed. "I wish there was more I could do for Caramel, Velvet. All I can do now is take some precautionary measures to try and prevent any further incidents. I've already imposed a curfew on the rest of the students until further notice: nopony leaves the tower, period."

"I bet you got a lot of pushback on that," Velvet said with a sad smile. "I know a lot of the kids were getting used to their off-campus extracurriculars. They're not gonna be happy."

"No, they aren't, but then they weren't happy to find out their classmates were attacked and injured, either. There was a bit of a ruckus; Rebel Noise and her friends wanted to form a hunting party, if you can believe it. Miss Havoc's aggressiveness is rubbing off on them."

Velvet smirked. "I'm not surprised. I know exactly how they feel."

"I've asked them all to hold off on making visits until Caramel is awake, and even then until he is ready for visitors."

"That's good, they'll be glad to know he's okay at least."

"At any rate, I feel it would be better that they be safe rather than happy until we find out what happened and can do something to prevent it from happening again." Pedigree snorted; Velvet could tell he was angry, but not with her. "These stallions that attacked you also threatened our students. I'm glad you killed them, Velvet, because otherwise, I would've. With my bare hooves if necessary."

"I know you would, Pedi," she replied, patting his side. "I'm sorry I didn't leave anything for you."

"It's quite alright. I'm just glad you and the kids were able to get out of there, even if not in the best of shape." He sighed and shook his head. "I'll be looking into what I can do to help your sisters with their investigation. I promise you, Velvet, we'll find whoever was responsible for this, and if there are more of them out there then they'll pay for what they did to you and our students."

"That's sweet of you, Pedi, but you don't need to do anything for me." She hung her head dejectedly. "It's my fault it all happened anyway. I would have deserved everything that happened to me for putting Caramel and Marée in danger."

"Don't say that, Velvet," he replied, pulling her in for a gentle hug. "You don't deserve anything like that just because of one mistake. Everything I've read about that establishment tells me that you wouldn't have been the first parent to sneak away and let their kids have fun at the arcade; it's commonplace. They should have had ample security and staff members—"

"Shut up," she sighed, pushing him away and trying not to sound irritated. "You're trying to make me feel better by excusing my behavior, I know that, but… I need to live with the fact that I made a mistake and it nearly got me, my son, and Marée killed. I'm going to have to live with that."

He paused for a moment. "Okay. I won't try to excuse anything, then. Just know, Velvet, that despite everything that happened today, I don't blame you." He hugged her again. "You're a good friend, and a good mother. We'll make the ones who are truly to blame here pay for what they've done. I promise."

She murmured to herself and hugged him back. "Thanks, Pedi."

"If you need anything, you only need to ask." Pedigree then broke the hug and rolled his shoulders. "I'll leave you with Caramel for now, okay? I'm going to check in on the other students and let them know what's going on with Caramel's status. I didn't want to give them any details until after I spoke with Soft Touch."

"Okay. Come visit me later?"

He smiled and nodded. "Of course."

Velvet watched him leave, then slumped back into her seat, knowing that despite all of his kind words and reassurances, Pedigree hadn't succeeded in making her feel much better. He could say it as many times as he liked; she still felt responsible for what had happened today, all because she couldn't resist the opportunity for casual sex when it cropped up. Times like this were when she wished that she could find it within herself to settle with a single partner.

Everything about today bothered her, beyond just the results. How had that stallion known about her powers in the first place? It would be the only reason he would bring a weapon that could protect him from them, so he'd obviously have been aware of them even if he hadn't said as much. But how did he know? Velvet never openly used her powers outside of the tower; the only time she ever had was…

Pinkie Pie. The last time Velvet remembered using her powers outside of the tower had been to save Pinkie from those three goons that had been looking to kill her. But there hadn't been any witnesses that Velvet knew about, had there? Apart from Pinkie, of course, who didn't say a word to anypony about it.

No, the only ponies outside of the tower that knew about her powers at all were Pinkie and her friends; the latter six couldn't have told anypony that mattered anyway. Maybe Lockwood knew on account of being close with Curaçao, since she knew Curaçao had told him about her powers, but even so, Lockwood didn't seem the sort to carelessly spill that information, and he'd been living in Hope's Point for a long, long while now besides. Flathoof knew about Gray's, but that was the same deal as with Lockwood: who would he tell and why?

"Traitor". That's what the stallion called her, the only thing he called her that actually stuck out in her mind out of everything he'd insulted her with. She'd been called a slut before, both as an insult and as a term of endearment—she was a self-proclaimed slut, if anything—so that meant nothing special. But "traitor" was new, and oh so confusing.

What was worse was how he'd known that Velvet was going to be there at the arcade at all, and when she was going to be there. Even worse was that he knew that she was bringing Caramel and Marée with her and wanted to use them as "bait". Nopony knew about her bringings the kids except for herself, Pedigree, Dawn, and a few others here at the tower that she'd talked to about the arcade in the first place, and none of them would have or could have spilled to anypony.

Curaçao would likely look into this more, though, and was always the better thinker and investigator; if anypony could find out what was going on, it was her. All that Velvet needed to focus on right now was her son and his well-being; that was all that mattered and would ever matter again.

"Miss Velvet?" came a voice from the doorway.

Velvet turned to see Marée standing there, clad in a medical gown just like she was, and holding a stuffed pony toy that she liked, a character from her favorite cartoon. The young filly had always possessed a sweet, charming disposition, and right now she looked as sweet and innocent as ever. It hurt Velvet just to look at the filly's face; it reminded her too much of how close she had been to being hurt or killed.

"Hi, Marée," Velvet said. She noticed the gauze around the base of the filly's left wing. "I… heard your wing's doing better."

"Uh-huh. Just a sprain, the nurse said."

"Good. Good…" Velvet turned her attention back to Caramel. "You'd better get back to your room, sweetie. I don't think the nurse would want you wandering around, and it's getting late besides."

Marée was silent for a moment, then stepped forward. "If it's okay with you, Miss Velvet… I wanted to be in here with Caramel, and with you."

Velvet felt her heart ache again. It hurt so much worse knowing how close she had come to letting these two young ponies' lives be ruined because of her stupid cravings. She could already hardly imagine the thought of something happening to her son, but she couldn't imagine what it might've done to Marée if something did.

The puppy love between the two was good and pure, and Velvet had nearly ruined it. Probably did, too; it would hardly do good for either of them to remember their first "date" being one where Caramel almost died and Marée watched his mother slaughter several ponies right in front of her. Marée had every right to want nothing to do with her ever again, and wouldn't blame her if she did.

But she couldn't deny the filly's request even if she wanted to. "Sure thing. Pull up a seat, sweetie."

Marée softly nodded, then pulled one of the empty chairs in the room over to sit near Velvet at the side of Caramel's bed; the seat scooted noiselessly, thankfully, muffled by the soft material on the legs. The two of them then remained in silence for a long moment, just looking at Caramel with nothing but the beeps of the monitoring machinery for company.

It was Marée who broke the silence. "Is he going to be okay, Miss Velvet?"

Velvet paused, then nodded slowly. "Nurse Soft Touch said it might take some time, but… he'll be okay."

"Good." Marée then sniffed. "I'm sorry, Miss Velvet. It's my fault."

Velvet looked right at the filly. "What?"

"Caramel only got hurt because I wasn't fast enough and got caught, and because I can't control my powers as well as he can." She wiped her nose on her sleeve. "If I hadn't gotten caught, he wouldn't—"

"Oh, Marée…" Velvet pulled the filly in for a hug. "It's not your fault. Don't blame yourself. If it's anypony's fault, it's mine. I should've never let you two out of my sight. But because I did, I—" She abruptly broke the hug. "I'm sorry you had to see everything that happened."

"Huh?"

"The things I did to those stallions right in front of you. You shouldn't have had to see that, and… I'm sorry. I wasn't in control of myself, and I wasn't thinking properly." She looked away from Marée and sighed. "I'll understand if you're scared of me and don't want to be near me anymore."

Marée tilted her head. "Miss Velvet, why would I be scared of you? You saved me and Caramel from those bad stallions."

"You saw how I did it though!" Velvet blurted, desperate and a little afraid. "I was a… a monster. You shouldn't have had to go through that kind of experience. It's not right for a young pony to see those kinds of things, to witness all of that. I know I scared you, Marée… I could feel it. Taste it. There was a part of me that wanted to do to you what I did to the stallions."

"But Miss Velvet, I'm not scared of you." Marée set her hoof on Velvet's leg. "You're Caramel's mama, and he's my best friend in the whole world. I could never be scared of you; you love him more than anything, and I know somepony with that much love in them isn't a scary pony.

"I know that I… I was scared," she admitted, clutching her doll tight. "But… I was scared of everything that was going on. I was scared for Caramel, scared of those mean stallions, scared that something had happened to you. But I was never scared of you."

Velvet stared at the filly for a moment, then let a weak smile come to her face. "Thank you, Marée. I appreciate that. I was worried— scared, that you might never want to have anything to do with me again. I was afraid what I did might affect your relationship with Caramel."

"No way!" the filly responded, looking scandalized. "I would never do anything like that to Cara—" She then let out a big yawn. "Oh… sorry."

Velvet smiled and helped Marée out of her seat. "Let's get you to bed so you can get some sleep, okay?"

"But… I don't want to leave Caramel…" Marée said with a pout.

"Hmm." A lightbulb went off in Velvet's head. "Then we'll make a little sleep-over out of it."

"But I don't have my sleeping bag—"

Velvet shifted the two chairs so that they were facing each other, creating a makeshift bed that would easily fit a filly of Marée's size, then scooped up the filly with only a small peep of protest before setting her down onto the "bed". She was just as quick to grab a spare blanket out of one of the supply drawers to throw over Marée.

"Ta-da! This'll work, won't it? Cozy?"

Marée blinked, and settled into her new sleeping arrangments. "Um… yeah, it's cozy, Miss Velvet. But what about you?"

"I'll be fine, sweetie, don't you worry about me." Velvet ran her hoof through Marée's mane. "You're a good filly, Marée, you know that? When the time comes, I'll approve wholeheartedly. No doubt in my mind."

Marée blinked, lost. "When what time comes?"

"You'll know when you're older, Marée," Velvet added with a grin, leaning down to kiss the filly's forehead. "Get some sleep."

Marée yawned again, then nodded, turned over, and though she fought it for a solid minute, looking in Caramel's direction all the while, she eventually fell sound asleep.

Velvet took a breath, then turned her attention back to Caramel before dutifully standing beside his bed; she could rest in the morning.

Comments

[RustleRustle]

Redmom best mom.

[ThatBeardGuy]

You know, I found Pedigree interesting in the original time-line, but I never thought he would get as much development and screen time as he has given the way it went previously. It's quite interesting to see what's become of him with better influences, surprisingly strong parental behavior and a touching friendship-maybe-more between him and Velvet. Altogether another well written, and enjoyable chapter in the crisisverse, aside from Caramel's situation. Nothing good about that.

[RoboRed]

It's crazy how different Pedigree has turned out in this timeline compared to the original. Never would I have thought I'd see him as being somepony this caring and supportive for others.

A little friendship goes a long way, I guess.

[My name is R]

She was left baffled by how exactly Velvet had done this much damage, both in here and out in the arcade. She'd seen her sister's handiwork before, and although that was years ago, the memory was still vivid.

I wonder if she can draw power from her own fear?

Bizarrely enough, the perplexing nature of the weapon didn't stop there. As Underhoof pulled the dagger out into the open, her magical field flowed out to encompass the entire weapon rather than just the handle. The instant her magic touched the blade, though, the dagger fell to the floor; Underhoof's magical field had vanished entirely.

Oh, like Kauldrin's horn. That makes sense.