Fallout Equestria: Blue Destiny

by MagnetBolt

Chapter 42 - For Whom The Bell Tolls

Sometimes I hated coming home from school.

It’s not like I knew anypony at school -- it was the second time we’d moved this year alone, and I wasn’t going to get attached to anypony when I knew we’d have to move again in a couple months. Half the classes weren’t even for me. The school was one of the few where most of the students were unicorns, and while they were practicing magic, I was stuck writing book reports. I hated reading. I couldn’t even take flying lessons because none of the teachers were pegasus ponies!

I thought getting to go to school in what was left of the old Stable would be exciting, but it was just cramped and uncomfortable and annoying.

“I’m home,” I said, tossing my saddlebags down at the side of the door.

I remembered this. It was the year most ponies my age were going to flight camp. I’d ended up going with Mom and Dad on a research trip. They were using the computers in the Stable to recover data from old, damaged terminals. Mom had wanted to use the opportunity to visit family.

I could hear them arguing in the next room. I don’t know if they didn’t hear me come in, or if they just didn’t know.

“Absolutely not,” Dad hissed. I’d never heard him angry like that. Frustrated, sure. Tired, definitely. Disappointed? Constantly. But he wasn’t usually angry. It was enough to make me stop before I got to the doorway, close enough to hear, but not enough to be seen.

“It’s my duty,” Mom said, just as firm as he was angry. “I have a responsibility to my family!”

“To, what, make more unicorns?!” Dad snapped.

“Would having another foal be that terrible?” Mom asked. “You’d barely be involved!”

“That’s the problem! I’d barely be involved! You might have clearance to have all the foals you want, but I don’t! And both of us know what that means.”

“We need to at least talk about this,” Mom said. “Chamomile--”

“I’ve got work I need to do,” Dad said coldly, storming out.

I remembered this now. It wasn’t long after this that Dad had decided to move to Cirrus Valley, and Mom hadn’t come with us.

Mom sighed. “I can hear you out there.”

Even in my memories, I wasn’t very stealthy. I walked into the living room with my head hung low.

“I assume you heard everything?” she asked. I nodded. She sighed and motioned for me to come closer.

“Sorry,” I mumbled.”

“Don’t apologize,” Mom said. She hugged me. Even now, I was a little taller than her. “I know someday, you’re going to make me proud.”

“I wish I made you proud now,” I said quietly. Something was wrong. I hadn’t said that. Not when it had really happened.

“Grow up to be just like me,” she said, her voice edged in razors. She squeezed. And kept squeezing. It was like I was trapped in a vice.

“Mom--!” I gasped. “I can’t--!”

The breath was shoved out of my lungs. My ribs cracked. My shoulders popped out of joint. Her pupils were dark slits set in glowing, burning eyes. She smiled with long, metal fangs.

---

I was screaming before I woke up and then I kept screaming. My legs were being twisted and bent. Broken bones cut through flesh, grinding against each other. Sharp edges sliced at me from the inside. I was being stabbed over and over again, flayed from the inside.

“Oh buck, you’re awake again!” Destiny gasped. “Go to sleep, go to sleep, go to sleep…”

A wave of magic washed over me. Messages flashed up on my HUD, more words layered over windows of warnings and errors and alerts. Exhaustion hit me like a bullet between the eyes, and the whole world was overlaid was warmth and softness, blunting the sharp edges. Everything went black.

---

I was wearing all white. It was a full-body suit made out of something between paper, fabric, and plastic. It felt cheap and light, totally disposable. It wasn’t comfortable. It was designed to keep my hair from getting everywhere. Making me sweaty and annoyed was only a side effect.

I couldn’t feel my wings. Part of me knew that wasn’t normal. The rest, the part remembering, the part in control, didn’t even know what wings felt like.

It didn’t help that I’d been waiting for the door to cycle. The far door finally unlocked and opened, a rush of stale, reprocessed air washing over me. The surgical mask over my mouth couldn’t cut the smell of solvents lingering from the industrial processes within.

“Do you have it?” I asked, as soon as I got into the stark white cleanroom.

Twilight Sparkle looked up at me and adjusted her glasses. I could see the smile in her eyes. I could tell how excited she was to show me what she’d put together.

“We have a few prototypes ready for testing based on your design,” she said. She picked up a glass tray with her hooves, pushing it across the workbench towards me. On the tray was a small chip of metal and silicon, shaped like a slightly twisted hexagon about twice as big as a postage stamp.

I was about to reach out and grab it. Twilight glanced up at my forehead.

“Don’t use your magic,” she warned.

“Is it that sensitive?” I asked. I stepped closer and leaned down to look more closely.

“We’re still running tests,” Twilight explained. “We’re getting some weird results. I think it’s just reacting to the background thaumatic radiation. Ah, look, you can see it now.”

The chip glittered, glowing with an unsteady light that seemed like it came from countless stars trapped in the silicon and steel. It felt warm.

“I’m not sure where that glow is coming from,” she sighed. “It’s been happening periodically ever since we brought it here.”

“Interesting…” I whispered. “So what kind of performance have you gotten?”

“The technology can pretty easily translate between thaumatic waves and computer commands. With a decent power source and enough of these chips you can amplify, repeat, and duplicate effects.” Twilight looked down at the shard. It almost reminded me of a bismuth crystal, metallic and sharp-angled and shimmering with rainbows where the light hit it.

“This could change everything,” I whispered. An urge to tease her hit me too strongly for me to pass up. “Maybe I should have you write up a presentation to the MAS for funding.”

“Oh, I bet that would go well,” Twilight said, rolling her eyes.

“You’d get a grant and a few awards, right before the Ministries started fighting over who got to arrest and interrogate you,” I joked.

“I can’t even imagine how angry the boss lady would be,” Twilight said.

“You’d probably have to ask for asylum just to avoid being set on fire,” I teased. “Let’s try to get some useful data before then.”

I stepped over to a whiteboard and started sketching.

“We’ll need a power source, some sensors independent of the thaumoframe…”

Twilight stepped up next to me, making notes and suggestions and corrections. The rough pony form on the board got filled in with details, and the future took shape.

---

I woke up gasping for breath with the panic of a mare drowning, snapping instantly from sleep to confused and agonized awareness with my lungs burning in my chest. Everything felt wrong. I’ve been hurt before, so badly that I was afraid just to look at the injury because that would make it real. My whole body was right there on the edge, where I knew seeing it, seeing any of it, was going to make me want to fall back into a coma.

“She’s awake again-- hold on, she’s choking on her own vomit! Turn her over!”

I wasn’t looking at a heads-up display. I couldn’t focus, not really. Just tunnel vision and panic. I was lying on my back, but somepony grabbed my shoulder and flipped me onto my side, not caring how much every motion hurt.

I coughed and spat out acid bile and blood, and I could suddenly breathe again. I gasped a few more times. My chest still felt wrong. My ribs were wrong. My legs were wrong. I felt like I’d been stabbed over and over again.

“What--” I gasped. “What--”

“Are you going to knock her back out?” somepony else asked.

“No,” the voice said. My voice. Not my voice. The voice from the dream I’d been having. Or was this the dream? “She needs rest, not stun spells and emergency life support.”

My vision started to clear. I wish it didn’t. I was in a crater filled with rubble. A red and black pony was standing over me. It took a while for me to remember who she was.

“Unsung?” I asked weakly.

“I guess that means you’re sane,” she said. “Fine. Wake the buck up, Chamomile. We’ve still got a city to save.”

“I feel like I’m still dying,” I groaned. My thoughts were starting to get into some kind of order. My train of thought was still a derailed disaster with casualties in the triple digits, but as I woke up somepony was at least sweeping some of the debris off the track.

Destiny was floating next to Unsung, and looked down at me. That explained why I couldn’t see a HUD.

“I think I was having a dream where I was you,” I said. With how out of it I was, I could have closed my eyes and slipped right back into the memory. “How long was I out?”

“You’ve been unconscious for days,” Destiny said gently. “You feel like you’re dying because most other ponies would be dead already. The good news is, your bones are set and mostly healed, sort of.”

“What does ‘sort of’ mean?” I asked, my throat dry. “I need--”

“Here.” Unsung knelt down and put a bottle to my lips, letting me get a few mouthfuls of water. I swallowed, trying to get the taste of vomit out of my mouth and wet my tongue.

I held up my left forehoof. There were black spikes erupting through the armor. “What the buck are those?”

“SIVA had to pin the bone shards in place while it rebuilt them,” Destiny said.

“I look like one of those bucking infected raiders,” I groaned. I was too weak to scream in horror or frustration. All I could manage was dread and a little depression.

“Some of them have already fallen off,” Destiny said. “I’m pretty sure it’s temporary, but they’re all over you right now.”

“Destiny already filled me in on what happened with Four,” Unsung said, sitting down and giving me a little more water, only letting me drink it slowly despite how thirsty I was. “I’m sorry.”

“So am I,” I said.

“If Four really turned against us, we’ll have to evacuate the Sanctuary,” Unsung sighed. “We might have to pull out of the city entirely. We don’t have a plan to counter the Grandus if the Enclave have control of it.”

“I know I can reason with her,” I said. I forced myself to sit up. I could really feel those spikes every time I moved. They went all the way down to the bone and were doing more than just pinning it together. I could tell they were anchoring torn muscle and tendon.

“It didn’t work so well last time,” Destiny muttered. “She broke almost every bone in your body, Chamomile! I know she’s a victim, but she’s also dangerous, unstable, and I don’t want you to throw your life away trying to save her.”

“I agree,” Unsung said. “It’s tragic. Maybe we can come up with something, like stealing the memory orb from this ‘Doctor Anamnesis’, but the only way to defeat a superior force is to have a superior plan.”

“Okay,” I said quietly. “I’m going to need a little time to get fighting fit again anyway.”

“You need bed rest for a month, with a real doctor looking over you,” Destiny said.

“Let’s not go too crazy. I’ve had days of sleep already and I feel awful.” My stomach growled. “I think I could use some food, though. Healing makes me hungry.”

---

“I still don’t think eating a whole jar of vitamins before dinner was a good idea,” I said.

“Your body is running extremely low on some minerals,” Destiny said. “I was watching what SIVA did to make sure it wasn’t going to turn you into a monster. I’m pretty sure it used carbon fiber and some other exotic materials to rebuild your bones. Those spikes growing out of you are almost pure elemental carbon.”

“Really?” I asked.

“Here,” Unsung said. She gave me a metal bowl from her mess kit. She’d slopped some rice and a weird, brown stew into it. I gave it a sniff and couldn’t place it at all. It smelled like spices and peppers and sweet fruit.

“What is this?” I asked.

“Curry,” she said. “It’s always been a comfort food to me.” I watched her serve herself from the pot over the small campfire she’d made in the broken building. She stirred it, lost in thought. “I remember how every ship had its own secret ingredient. You could tell where somepony served just by how they cooked…”

“You were in the military?” I asked.

Unsung snapped out of it. She smiled. I couldn’t tell how honest it was with that metal mask in front of her eyes. “It’s not important,” she said. “As of right now, I’m Unsung, leader of Kasatka. Nothing more, nothing less.”

“I guess so,” I said, poking at my meal and trying the smallest bite. And then immediately taking much larger bites because not only was it good, but I would have eaten ragweed scraps in dirty dishwater, with how hungry I was.

Unsung watched me eat and chuckled to herself before taking my bowl and refilling it. “Glad you like it.”

“Thanks for making it,” I said. I got halfway through the second bowl before the thought hovering around the edge of my thoughts bullied its way up to the front of the line and demanded to speak to the manager. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure,” she said.

“How much of all this did you plan?” I asked. I could see her about to deny things, so I held up a hoof, took a bite of food, and continued. “I’ve been thinking about it since Big Barrel died. You knew all that was going to happen when you sent him out. It worked perfectly. He even set off a balefire egg just to really show the Enclave how big of a threat you were. How much of that was him being suicidal, and how much was you giving him explosives and orders and knowing what would happen in the end?”

Unsung frowned. I kept talking.

“Then with Four… you knew she wouldn’t be able to deal with combat, not psychologically. You could have had her do my job and distract the convoy, and it would have made more sense… unless you wanted her to go on a rampage and destroy half the city. You knew she destroyed this town, after all, right? I know you didn’t mean for me to get hurt, or for her to go rogue, but all the rest went to plan.”

Unsung sighed and poked around at her bowl. “You’re a smarter pony than I gave you credit for,” she admitted.

“Did the mayor really get killed by Enclave crossfire?” I asked.

“He did. It was one of my backup plans, I admit. My first choice would have still been to let him confess his sins on tape first.”

“Why?” I asked quietly.

“Most Dashites don’t work together,” Unsung said, after clearly considering her answer for a moment. “I’ve met others. Ones I couldn’t work with. Some of them were happy. They left the Enclave for love or a cause and they were still doing it. They had something to live for. Others just had something to die for. Those are the ones I recruited.”

“You think Four--”

“She’d kill to get her memories back. Or die for them. Knowing yourself is a more noble cause than most of Kasatka has,” Unsung said sharply. “I won’t speak for them. It isn’t my place. I can only tell you my story. The parts that matter.”

“Let’s hear it,” I said.

Unsung nodded. “My family was rich and important. I could have anything I wanted, just by asking for it. I grew up naive enough to think that was true for everypony in the Enclave. Stupid, I know, but that’s what it’s like when you’re a filly. You can’t see things from another pony’s perspective, and I never had to really grow up.

“I became something of a minor celebrity,” she said, with a touch of bitterness. “I thought I was important. That there weren’t consequences for what I did. I learned just enough to know that things weren’t right, and that was the end for me. I made a public embarrassment of my family. It wasn’t even about the surface! I was part of a protest about a change in rationing that seemed very important at the time and absolutely didn’t matter in the end. It wasn’t some grand cause, just something where it was easy to get caught up in the rush and motion and feeling like part of something bigger.”

“And then?” I asked.

“My father was up for a promotion. The protest was at an inconvenient time for him, but a very convenient time for his superiors to ask him to prove his loyalty. So he dealt with me personally. For the crime of saying the wrong things at the wrong time, I was branded and left for dead in the wasteland. I should have died. I had no survival skills to speak of. Ponies who had almost nothing except kindness shared what little they had with me. And I learned to survive.”

“I’m pretty sure you’re just telling me what I want to hear,” I said.

“I’m telling you the truth,” Unsung said. “I don’t care if you believe me. I think you’ve seen the same thing I have. If everypony came down here and we were willing to put in some effort and give up some luxuries, we’d be able to rebuild Equestria in a generation.”

“Is that what you want?” Destiny asked, cutting in. “To rebuild?”

Unsung smiled. “I haven’t given up yet. I still have things to live for.” She stood up. “Get some rest. I’ll keep watch. We’ll leave in the morning. I doubt you’re really well enough for travel but we don’t have time to wait much longer than that.”

I watched her walk off, and wondered what to believe.

---

A fog bank had rolled in when we were close to the city, and as much as it slowed us down, it also gave us plenty of cover, so we stayed in it instead of flying over.

“I have some disguises in a cache just outside the city wall,” Unsung whispered. “We can use them to get in without drawing attention.”

I looked down at myself, following her gaze. The blue plates of my power armor were still pinned to me, the spikes holding my bones together keeping me from taking it off and making me look like a raider.

“I hope you’ve got a really big coat for me to hide in,” I grumbled. After the relief of having my infection under control, having this full-body ache of recently healed limbs and machine-made bone spurs was not pleasant.

“I’m sure I have something,” Unsung said. “If it comes to it, we’ll just go over the wall and make a break for it…” she trailed off when a gust of wind from the sea blew away some of the solid fog cover over us. I had already stopped listening by the time she went silent. We were both looking up over the city, at the doom that hung above it.

A cloudship hovered over the center of the city like a sword ready to fall on the ponies living there.

“Why does this keep happening to every town I go to?” I asked quietly.

“We need to get to the Sanctuary. Forget the cache.” Unsung said, with a tone that didn’t broker argument. She shot into the air, flying hard and fast. I jumped after her, trying to keep up with somepony in much better health and more talent than I had.

I struggled to get after her. She went right over the wall and into the tangle of streets. Ponies shouted and pointed at her as she passed, and just stared at me. I probably looked like a monster trying to chase after an innocent pony.

“How can she fly like that?” I grunted. She was banking at sharp angles, turning almost entirely on her side to squeeze through narrow alleyways without slowing.

“She’s half your size and a quarter your weight,” Destiny pointed out.

I flew into and through a clothesline, tearing it free and getting tangled up in it. There wasn’t time to apologize to the ponies whose underwear I was stealing. I was falling farther and farther behind.

She pulled up, then dove down at an angle, right into a subway entrance. I ignored the growing pain in my aching body and kept at it, the stairs just barely wide enough for my wingspan. I passed from sunlight into shadow, the tunnel tightened up, and I missed a turn going from the ancient platform into the narrow train passage.

I hit the wall, tearing up an advertisement for Sparkle-Cola and sending dust and pebbles flying. The ground welcomed me, and I came to a stop in a heap, the clothesline wrapped around two legs and sitting in a puddle of filthy rainwater.

“Ow,” I groaned.

“I’m sorry,” Unsung said, landing next to me. She offered me a hoof up. “I… sorry. I got scared. I didn’t mean to leave you behind. It was foalish of me. Did you get hurt?”

“I have no idea,” I said honestly.

“She’s fine,” Destiny said. “Well, you know. Fine. No worse than she was five minutes ago.”

“Good. I need you watching my back,” Unsung said. “I don’t know what we’ll be walking into.”

“Probably a trap,” I said.

“Always the optimist,” Unsung said. “Let’s hope you’re right.”

---

“Don’t move,” I warned, pressing my blade against the pony’s side. They’d started struggling when I got my hoof around their neck and yanked them back onto their hind legs to get them off-balance. When they felt the steel touch them, they went very still very quickly.

“Please don’t kill me!” the mare gasped. “Just take what you want!”

Unsung walked past us silently, detached and ghost-like.

A ghost would have been appropriate, since this was a mass grave.

There were at least two dozen bodies here, and that was just what I could see from where I’d grabbed the mare in uniform. The walls were blackened and blasted from stray beam shots. The rooms on the old platform had been torn open and the contents dumped out.

Most of the dead ponies were earth ponies with rough-looking weapons and patchwork armor. There were only a few pegasus ponies in uniform, and all of them had been dragged over to the side and laid out in a line.

“Local mercenaries,” Unsung said quietly. “With Enclave soldiers leading them.”

“They just left the bodies down here?” I asked.

“Pulling them out would have been bad for morale,” Unsung said. She glanced back at the mare I was holding. “Am I right?”

“I’m just here to guard the equipment from scavengers until we can move the casualties safely,” the mare said quietly, her voice shaking.

“Where are the ponies they took prisoner?” I demanded. “I don’t want to hurt you. I’m just looking for my friends.”

“I don’t know anything about prisoners!”

“They didn’t take prisoners,” Unsung said, her voice low. She stopped in front of four sheets, draped over bodies set aside on purpose. She pulled one aside. It was Grey Gloom. She looked peaceful, even with the burn in the middle of her chest. A phantom smile was still on her cold lips.

Four sheets. And we’d left four ponies here. A wash of sorrow hit me, and I looked away from them. Even Unsung turned her back to the bodies, looking down.

A cold breeze blew down the subway tunnel. A feeling washed over me, like somepony whispering at the edge of hearing. I looked back at the covered bodies and it hit me.

“Klein Bottle was a tiny pony,” I said. “Aren’t those bodies a little big to be her?”

Unsung looked up and turned back. “You’re right,” she said, sounding concerned, maybe even a little hopeful.

The first sheet revealed Split Moon. Unlike the composed, peaceful figure of Grey Gloom, he hadn’t gone quietly. The dozens of bodies made sense. He must have been a berserk terror, absorbing multiple fatal wounds and going until his body just hadn’t been able to move another inch. Unsung saluted him and pulled the sheet back over his face, covering the fallen soldier.

The third pony was Opening. Somehow, in death, he looked surprised. I guess he'd just never planned for this.

She looked at the last form. It was far too large to be the short, fluffy pegasus. Unsung tugged the edge aside and both of us blinked at what was revealed.

“Shadowmere?” she asked, confused. Unsung looked around, like she might have missed something. “Klein Bottle isn’t here. And Shadowmere wouldn’t be here if Asterism wasn’t…”

“They might have gotten out!” I said, excited.

“If Klein Bottle is with Asterism, I know where they might have gone,” Unsung said. She stopped next to Split Moon and knelt down to pick something up. “Sorry I wasn’t here, my friend. I’ll use this in your place.”

She stood up holding one of Split Moon’s blades. She looked at the mare I was holding, and I felt the mare I was holding tense up at the look Unsung gave her. A moment passed, and Unsung sheathed the blade and strapped it to her side, tucking it under her wing. I breathed a sigh of relief at the same time as my prisoner.

“Let’s go,” Unsung said. She hopped off the platform and landed next to me.

“Right,” I agreed. I looked at the mare I’d taken hostage. “Sorry about all that. We’ll have to tie you up, but I’m sure somepony will--”

Unsung kicked my hoof, driving the knife I was holding into the mare’s side. The security guard gasped, her breath rattling and blood spilling from her lips. I let go, surprised and panicked. I tried to hold her up. She collapsed, blood pooling around her.

“We don’t have all day to play around,” Unsung said, calmly trotting away. “Stop trying to save ponies that don’t deserve it.”

---

It was a good thing I had to work hard to keep up with Unsung because it meant I didn’t have a chance to yell at her.

When she slowed down we were in public and it would have been awkward to start accusing her of murder when we were walking into an office building. There were probably fifty ponies in the lobby, waiting in lines leading to counters where workers behind thick security glass spoke to them in quiet terms.

I felt out of place, what with being heavily armed and armored.

“What are we doing here?” I mumbled, trying not to notice just how many ponies were staring at us.

Unsung held up a hoof for me to be quiet and walked confidently up to the counter, ignoring the line.

“I need to speak to the manager,” she said. “Tell her I’m here.”

The teller frowned, and the pony at the counter puffed up his chest and turned to us.

“Now look here, do you know who… I… am…?” he trailed off and looked up at me. I was well aware that I looked a little like a war crime. He took a step back. “Oh, I didn’t notice it was such fine, beautiful ladies! Why don’t you just go ahead of me?”

Unsung didn’t even look at him.

The teller sighed. “The manager is busy right now--”

Another pony behind the counter whispered to the teller, then took her place, giving Unsung a big smile. “The manager will be right with you. Would you like come come with me to her office?”

A pony in one of the freshest, most well-tailored suits I’d ever seen ushered us out of the lobby as quickly as possible and into an elevator, obviously pretending that this was very normal. Maybe it was. I didn’t really know how often armed ponies walked in on them.

The elevator crawled from the ground floor to the sixth before the doors slid open.

“I know the way from here,” Unsung said, stepping out into a hallway that could have been right out of a museum. Glass cases lined the walls, displaying a strange collection of artifacts. I stopped at one to squint at a weird bit of metal that was either a torture device or some kind of cruel weapon. A small label called it a ‘cheese grater’.

“Why would anypony collect this junk?” Destiny asked.

“Reminds me of my Dad’s collection,” I said.

A hinge squeaked, and I looked up to find Unsung stopped at a doorway, waiting for me. I ran over to the door and she nodded to me and opened it the rest of the way.

“I was wondering when you’d get here-- oh, it’s you.” Asterism sounded a little disappointed when we walked in. “I was expecting the Enclave to show up to arrest me. I had this little speech ready.”

“Sorry. We could get them for you if you want,” Unsung said.

Asterism’s office was a huge open space, with wood paneling reaching halfway up the walls and gold foil coating the rest. A chandelier made of multicolored crystal hung in the center of the office from the high ceiling, and it was large enough that there was a small bowling green set up to one side of the long carpeted aisle to her desk, with couches and chairs set up on the opposite side.

The earth pony got up from a chair as large as a throne and walked around the side of a desk that seemed almost out of place in the room, heavy and solid but also ancient and cracked, the wood splitting and splintering from some terrible injury.

She limped when she walked, and I could see bandages peeking around the edges of her dress.

“You know the funny thing is? I was going to turn you in when you got back,” Asterism said. “You were causing too much trouble in my city. Ironic, isn’t it? Somepony else beat me to the punch. Now I’m just waiting for the other shoe to drop from that disaster hovering out there.”

She motioned to the wall of windows behind her desk. We had a good view of the cloudship from here.

“At least it’s not that jerk that destroyed Cirrus Valley,” I muttered.

“Unsung!”

Klein Bottle flew out from behind one of the couches, running into Unsung’s legs and holding on, starting to cry softly. The tiny fluffball of a pegasus looked absolutely broken.

“I couldn’t stop them,” Klein sobbed. “Gloomy made me go on ahead, and Asterism got shot, and I had to help--”

“You did the right thing,” Unsung whispered. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there. I’m so sorry…”

“So you’d better have a plan,” Asterism said. “I’m surprised they haven’t already stormed in here.”

“I have a plan,” Unsung said. She turned away from the window. “Same plan as we had before. We’ve dragged Grand Admiral Bright off his comfortable seat on top of all the ponies he oppressed. We made him lower himself this far, now we’re going to drag him all the way down to Tartarus!”

Comments

[Reese]

"Would you like come come with me to her office?"
"Would you like to come with me to her office?"?

[Ahsoka Tano]

What if Rain is Chamomile's step-brother lol. Unsung trying too hard too become a real criminal.