The Rejects

by Argonaut44

02: The Enemy of My Enemy

Riding the road to her grave, fortune had blessed her with some rest.

Temporarily, at least.

Starlight awoke suddenly as the carriage ran over a pothole, her entire body bouncing up and down upon the hard metal bench she was chained to.

For last she could remember, Starlight had been thrown into the trunk of a carriage, to be carried off to some unknown destination. Yet now she found herself in a completely different vehicle, a larger carriage whose interior consisted only of cold grey steel walls and aluminum benches.

Chains rattled against her metal seat, running through a small ring welded to the edge of the bench, and back up through two metal cuffs locked around her two front hooves. She was stuck in place on the bench, her chains locked on tight around her hooves and waist. Escape was virtually impossible, as she struggled to no avail.

She could do little more than slide back and forth to relieve the uncomfortable pressure of her restraints, and she could feel the horrible metallic chill of the magic inhibitor ring locked over her horn. She was unable to cast any spells, and could barely move her limbs apart.

She feared for what had become of Trixie, who was nowhere to be seen. She could very well be dead, right alongside Ember and Thorax and the rest of them. She shut her eyes and gritted her teeth, trying to forget the red scene, trying to burn the memory away somehow.

Starlight wasn’t alone in the carriage, however. There was a pony dressed in a police uniform, with a bony, rigid jaw and reptilian eyes. He sat in the opposite corner, burying his nose in a magazine and ignoring Starlight completely.

Her eyes strained to catch sight of two small windows in the rear doors of the carriage, watching on as faint streams of white light flooded in across the ice-cold steel floor. Beyond the metal bars that clung over those windows was the outside world, a world that was now far out of reach, as the carriage dragged her far away from any resemblance of familiarity.

But greater than her growing dread for wherever she was heading, Starlight was consumed with rage, a rotten, trembling fury for all those ill-spent years of dedication to what had to be crafty lies, for believing in some moral predication that no longer bore substance. She found herself a fool.

It couldn't have been her.

It couldn't be real.

It could have been a changeling, or some dark magic at work. But her heart knew better. Every lesson, every piece of guidance, every word of encouragement, they could very well all be lies. The Twilight Sparkle she had built her new life upon was no more than a front for some darker treachery. But why now, Starlight wondered, why give it all away, as soon as Twilight had everything she wanted?

She assumed two possibilities - one, that Twilight had been compelled to take such drastic actions by some grave threat to Equestria, or two, Twilight had lost her mind entirely, succumbed to a great evil just as she was poised to lead Equestria into the future. Perhaps some manner of both, Starlight thought. Ember and Thorax were dear friends of Twilight's, but they themselves were not of Equestria. They might not have had Equestria's interests in their hearts, on the grounds of some political venture. No, she thought, the same could not be said for Posh and Filibuster and Blueblood.

We've been putting a lot of plans together. We'd love to fill you in about everything, that's what Thorax told her. Their secrets would die with them, she figured, which is precisely what Twilight intended. There was nothing she could do, nopony she could save. They were gone.

Now she was en route to Celestia-knows-where, discarded as if her life was merely an inconvenience. Starlight clenched her teeth, and fidgeted in her restraints. Twilight would endure through this, she thought. Twilight would never have made such a spectacle of brutality without ensuring she would escape the ensuing consequences. Starlight supposed that's all she was now, a consequence.

There was no point in plotting her revenge. Not only for the chains, but for the cracks that had been sewn through her very mind. The world she had known was cast in shadow, and she wondered perhaps that it had been begotten that way, that she had been blind to the true cruelty of the world until now, until the final push past all rails of reason.

Interrupting Starlight’s tribulations, the carriage squealed to a sudden halt, its wheels crunching over some thick mounds of ice and snow left astray on the gravel road.

Starlight very nearly lost her balance, having nothing to brace herself as she swayed forward with the carriage as it came to a complete stop.

The bony-jawed guard sighed and rose to his hooves, walking towards a frazzled Starlight.

Whatever courage Starlight had planned to muster for an impulsive escape, it quickly fell flat, as soon as the bony-jawed guard marched up to her.

The guard unfastened the chain from the bench ring and attached it to her hind leg cuffs, freeing her from the bench, but restricting her movement once again.

Pulling her up to her hooves, the guard dragged Starlight towards the rear exit doors, which were promptly opened from the outside.

White light blinded both the guard and Starlight for a moment, and they both required a solid few seconds to adjust.

In every direction, there was nothing but snow and grey skies for as far as the eye could see. Starlight's mind faltered at the sight of such barrenness; it was as though she had entered some deathly void not of this world at all. The air was thin and brittle, and Starlight felt her body temperature drop within seconds of exiting the carriage.

“Where am I?” Starlight muttered, horrified as hope drained out from within her. There was no color, no life, nothing but blinding white and somber, agonizing grey.

The bony-jawed guard provided no answer nor relief, tossing a disoriented Starlight below off the carriage edge.

She was caught by the driver and the passenger, two police ponies dressed in warm coats and furs to protect against the blistering cold.

Starlight was shivering within mere moments, as she was wrestled into a firm grip by the driver and passenger.

The guard spoke something to the driver, though the words were lost on Starlight, who felt a painful ringing in her ears and a numbing mania developing in her head.

She was dragged around the police transport carriage towards the front, passing the rows of grim-faced stallions who had pulled the carriage all this way.

Ahead of her was a large facility, guarded by triple fences of barbed wire, stone battlements, moats of freezing-cold water, and police ponies numbering a few hundred. The complex was vast, built into the side of a mountain range, spanning half a mile along its base. It rose up a good four stories, its gloomy prison bars mocking Starlight from above; for this would be her new home.

“Move,” scoffed one of the guards pulling her towards the front gate of the facility. Starlight hadn’t realized she had been dragging her hooves, subconsciously having wanted to go anywhere but straight for the imposing drear of the facility ahead.

“Is this Tartarus?” Starlight asked, her voice choked and miniscule, as terror overcame her.

The guards exchanged a look and shared a laugh.

“No. Much worse,” one of the guards replied.

Approaching the front gate, one of the guards raised a hoof in the air, attempting to flag down somepony up above on the facility battlements.

In a matter of moments, a loud buzzing sound shook Starlight alert, signaling that the gates were opened.

The guards, sniffling and catching their breath in the cold, continued dragging a begrudged Starlight forward, shoving past the large front gates to enter inside.

Past the gates was a large courtyard, filled with ponies in orange jumpsuits trying their hardest not to freeze to death.

Starlight saw some inmate ponies keeled over in the snow, and some who appeared to not be moving at all, and she wondered what kind of mad hell she had been thrust into.

In the courtyard, there were ponies exercising, playing a variety of games, and standing together in packs for warmth. And among them too were corpses caked in ice, their skin blue and their eyes greyed out. It seemed the living perhaps envied the dead, as far as Starlight could tell.

Starlight was dragged through the middle aisle of the courtyard, which was fenced off from where the prisoners were. Some drew towards the fence to get a good look at the new fresh meat, though Starlight paid them no notice.

There was a profound silence resting over the facility, despite the noise of the rowdy prisoners and the sounds of machinery bellowing out from the inner hovels of the complex. Starlight watched the black smoke from the factory exhaust pipes unfurl into the air, and was not surprised there was an extra dour toil to dampen spirits.

The fenced-off center path was long and narrow, and led straight towards the main entrypoint for the proper complex building.

Starlight was brought to the front entrance of the building, where she was finally allowed a rest from the long walk.

“This isn’t right, what you’re doing,” Starlight managed to say, while catching her breath.

The duo of guards shared an unimpressed look, while one proceeded to input a numerical code into the doorside keypad.

"Shut your mouth," said the one bent down by the keypad code.

"Easy to act tough when I'm in irons," Starlight growled.

“You’ll have plenty of time to chirp away, once you're caged, little bird. Spare the two of us at least,” said the one guard with nothing to do but wait.

Starlight scoffed.

“Why am I still alive?” Starlight inquired.

“Because you're not worth the trouble to snip that pretty neck of yours," answered the other guard, who was struggling to remember the last two digits of the keypad code.

“The murders, what are ponies saying?" Starlight stammered, having figured that Twilight would take advantage of Starlight’s situation to blame all of those ghastly deaths on her, and leave her as a hapless scapegoat locked away for life.

“What?” the idle guard repeated, bewildered.

“Ignore her,” the other guard muttered, followed by a string of curses in response to his shortcomings with the keypad code mystery.

They don't know anything about what happened. Perhaps it was better that way.

Starlight took a few steps backwards into the snow, as far as her chain leash would allow, to take in the tremendous scope of the complex exterior. Her eyes searched the thick stone walls for any vulnerable points to exploit.

“What’s she doing now?” asked the idle guard. The other swiveled around to inspect, before drawing a quick conclusion.

“She’s looking to escape, she is. Go figure. You only just got here, love, wait until you see what’s inside,” he said, laughing to himself and returning to the keypad.

“This place is a vault. Nopony in Equestria even knows about it except a few. We’re in the absolute middle of nowhere. And nopony’s coming to help you out, I'm afraid,” he continued, snickering at Starlight’s expense.

Starlight scowled in dismay, but still kept her mouth shut. She dreaded that the guard was telling the truth, that this void of snow, this frozen wasteland of misery, truly had no escape.

“There we go,” said the guard by the door, after finally getting the code right.

The front entrance door buzzed open, and Starlight was quickly escorted inside.

With her first few steps inside, the scent of fire and oily machinery throttled Starlight by the throat without mercy. The air was wet with musty tears and stunk of rot, and the cries and howls of imprisoned souls rang out and echoed between the winding metal bars.

She was dragged through the labyrinth of steel catwalks and hallways, disoriented as the guards carelessly threw her against the floor as if she was a sack of produce.

She was taken to a cavernous room, where Starlight could see rows upon rows of prison cells, endless in their multitude, four stories up and stretching deeper into the mountain. Ponies’ hooves hung from the edge of their cells like vines, grasping at any prospect of freedom they could hope to imagine.

On the bottom floor of prison cells in the cavernous dungeon, Starlight was thrown alongside other new prisoners, or various species and sex, all organized in a line. There were guards standing idly by in the shadows, patiently.

Starlight picked herself up from the ground, grunting softly as she brushed off all of her new bruises she sustained during the painful journey through the facility.

Then before she knew it, in front of her there stood a hulking pegasus stallion, with a ghoulish face chalk-full of scratches and hard edges. He was a soft blue in color, with greying tan hair. His eyes were like coal, and his nose would flare up everytime he snarled in disgust at the motley line of prisoners standing before him. But right then, his sole target was Starlight.

“I would hope you at least traveled well, since you insisted upon holding us up so long,” he said, his grizzly growl sending shivers down Starlight’s spine. She wasn’t sure what to reply with, though even if she was, she was too petrified with fear to dare speak.

“I am going to need you to understand, Starlight Glimmer,” the stallion said, causing Starlight to recoil in shock that he already knew her name, “Treasonous little whore - tardiness will not be tolerated. Not now, nor any point after.”

His voice was hoarse like gravel, and his eyes burned hot with the rage of a hundred suns.

Before Starlight could prepare herself, the stallion landed a thunderous jabbing kick to her gut, sending her crashing to the ground in pain. Without restraint, he planted three more kicks, each rattling her entire body with their rupturing impact. She lurched over in pain, and even coughed up some blood, holding her stomach in agony.

“Let this be a first lesson to all you,” the stallion continued, now addressing the entire row of prisoners, who were all quaking with fear as Starlight writhed on the ground.

“Whatever you thought you could get away with before, you will not get away with anymore….I know you are all new here, which means you ought to make an extra effort to abide by the rules. You will only speak when told to speak, act when told to act, and think what you’re told to think. This place does wonders for the wicked. Be grateful, wretches, that your sin might be purified, by whatever means I see fit,” the stallion said, practically yelling as his booming voice carried through the air of the vast halls of the prison.

“Your uniforms will be assigned to you by your block chief. Any complaints are to be given to your block chief. You will only report to me for monthly evaluation, or otherwise if I request it,” the stallion ordered. He then gave a bizarre, slightly-deranged grin, as his eyes passed over the line of trembling prisoners, “Welcome to Hellhatch.”

He then pivoted and marched out from the cavernous chamber, leaving the other guards to begin adjudicating the pack of terrified prisoners. Two had already broken down into tears, and the rest were deathly still as hope faded into memory.

“Glimmer,” said one of the guards, marching straight towards Starlight, who was still groaning in pain on the ground.

“Get up,” he said, offering her a hoof.

Starlight reluctantly accepted his hoof, managing to pull herself up.

“Getting acquainted with the warden I see?” the guard asked, smirking.

Starlight saw the other prisoners be marched away down varying hallways of the prison, which was a chaotic lair of constant movement.

“I’m Stewball, your cell block chief,” the guard said, grabbing a hold of the leash connected to Starlight’s chain.

“It’s a two floor ride up the shaft, come this way,” he said, towing Starlight along behind him.

They entered the elevator shaft side by side. Starlight’s shoulders hung low, and her eyes were only half-open, as melancholy seized her. The very air of the prison was life-draining, and there truly seemed to be no escape from the dark caverns and cold steel that awaited her.

As the elevator began ascending, Stewball took it upon himself to stand uncomfortably close to Starlight, who only then began to realize she might already have a significant problem to deal with.

Now Stewball was a shrewd fellow, aggressive in his forwardness yet observably unable to follow through with the more devious of his intentions. He was an earth pony, whose mane was reddish brown and whose coat was like an oak’s bark. He had wiry whiskers scattered across his face, and a pair of beady eyes. He was tall and lanky, but large enough to intimidate a pony of Starlight’s size. Usually Starlight had her magic to back her up in times of trouble, but not this time. This time, she was more vulnerable than she had ever felt before.

His breath was hot overtop her neck. She hesitated to back away, for fear of receiving another beating in the same vein as what the cruel warden inflicted upon her. Still, her urge was to fight back.

She happened to be saved from any real advances when the elevator reached its destination.

Level 3

The light above the door flashed green and the doors swung open, provoking Stewball into backing away from Starlight.

Stewball resumed his cordial demeanor, leaving Starlight with only a lustful wink.

Starlight winced in disgust.

“Oh, don’t make that face. I only wanted a bit of fun, is all. You should too, there isn’t much other fun to be had down here,” Stewball said, as he began walking Starlight down the cell block hallway.

“You ought to be careful, by the way. Old Steel Shackle is a pony you don’t want to make enemies with. So here’s some advice: do as your told, and keep your head down, and you may last longer than the other runts doomed to die,” he said, bearing a demented grin.

“It’s lights-out in five hours. You’ll get your uniform and a service itinerary tomorrow. I think you’re working at laundry,” Stewball said, tugging on her chain leash, “We don’t like to waste able bodies while they last. Some get stronger here, the rest break down.”

Stewball expected some sort of snarky comment from Starlight, who was still sulking in frustration as she kept up with his quick pace.

“Here’s your cell, traitor,” he said, slowing up as they approached Cell #323, “Oh, that reminds me. The pony you’re replacing, she was murdered by her cellmate. That is to say, your cellmate.”

Starlight’s jaw dropped in shock at this revelation, but had little time to craft a plan, before the cell door flew open and she was shoved inside. Stewball cackled to himself as he left her in the dark damp cell, and the bars slammed shut behind her.

Starlight sprang up to her hooves, expecting having to defend herself against whatever lay ahead of her in the darkness.

“Ooh, I’m so scared,” came a voice, mocking Starlight’s defensive stance and heavy breathing.

“Come out where I can see you!” Starlight commanded, unwilling to play any games with her taunting cellmate.

The pony in the shadows scoffed, and jumped down from what had to be a bunk bed, judging by the sound of bending springs.

The pony landed on the dusty floor in a huff, flaunting her hips as she marched out from the shadows.

Starlight was admittedly underwhelmed by the pony, who was notably short, with a hot pink coat, a fair violet mane curled into a bun, and brown eyes. The pony appeared to be a few years older than Starlight, and had an off-putting manic glare that rubbed Starlight the wrong way.

“Um...hi, I’m Starlight,” Starlight said, hoping to make a good first impression.

The cellmate made no answer, eyeing Starlight up and down as if scaling her for fashionware.

“You were the one Shackle was wailing on, I saw it,” the cellmate said, ignoring any kind of formal introduction.

“Uh, yeah,” Starlight said, embarrassed, and her bruises hurt a little bit more as the memory passed through her mind.

The cellmate scoffed, as if her suspicions had been confirmed.

“You won’t last long here,” she said, turning back around and climbing up the bunk bed.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Starlight asked, annoyed with the insinuation.

“I’ve already got you all figured out. Unicorn. High strung. Pampered. They’ll eat you alive and spit you out in a week’s time. I’d know, I used to be just like you,” the cellmate said, pausing to ensure her comparison was sensible. “Minus the horn,” she corrected, “But I wouldn’t let them get to me. You know what happened to the last pony who tried to get to me?” the cellmate asked, her eyes darting back and forth, as bloody madness swept over her face.

Starlight nervously shook her head, though feared she already knew the answer.

“You’re sleeping in her bed,” the cellmate said, leaving Starlight with a sinister smirk as she fell back into her bed to stare up at the ceiling. The cellmate seemed to get a twisted kick out of Starlight's growing anxiety.

“Don’t ever talk to me from now on, 'kay? I don’t want to miss the peace and quiet. That’s all I’ve got in here. That’s all I need,” the cellmate said, wistfully.

Starlight decided that was a mutually beneficial request, and cautiously made her way towards the bottom bunk. Though these halls were dark and reeked of misery, Starlight knew fully well that she would not be deterred, no matter the greatest of odds. And besides, now she had all the time in the world.

---

The town of Ponyville had slept soundly that night, though not all of them would be dawning with the sun.

Seven bodies lay strewn across the hardwood in meeting room #3, crimson red blood having dried over every surface it touched.

After hours of undisturbed peace, the site of that murderous travesty would at last be uncovered.

At precisely 6:29 a.m. that morning, the front doors of the town hall were thrown open, in marching a team of twenty-two ponies dressed in black suits .

The sun had yet to rise, and the town hall lobby was still drowning in darkness.

At the forefront of the team of agents was a unicorn stuffed in a suit and tie, with a stubbly-bearded brown face and a curly head of hair the color of mud. He was called Bandolier, the leader of the inspection team sent into Ponyville before the crack of dawn, to investigate a raised concern of high command.

Though he thought himself to be typically cool under pressure, as he took his first steps inside the building his movements were sporadic, as if around every corner he expected to be startled out of his wits.

“727-Golf, clear,” he muttered into the speaker of his hoof-held radio.

“Affirmative,” came a drowsy voice from the other end.

“Led Head, take two, upstairs,” Bandolier ordered to a begrudged subordinate who would much prefer a more flattering nickname, "Coffee, keep the place locked down. Nopony should know we're here. Heels, Gin, and the rest of you, follow me,” he continued, preparing himself for whatever calamity awaited them deeper inside the building.

The remaining team members proceeded to trudge cautiously behind Bandolier, each uncertain of what dangers lay ahead.

“Lieutenant,” said one of the agents, whose head was hidden beneath a visor-protected black helmet. Her name was Amity Stiletto, affectionately donned ‘Heels’ by her team-members. She was the youngest on the team, had a light pink coat and a long wavy reddish-pink mane, and at the moment, seemed to be spooked by something. “Don’t you smell that?” she asked, hesitantly inching away from the source, which came from behind a nearby closed door.

Bandolier had been so distraught over his own fears, that he hadn’t even recognized the sickly-sweet smell of rotting flesh pouring out from the cracks of the door.

He sighed, realizing that he very likely would not be happy with what he found on the opposite side.

“Ready?” he muttered to his companions, right before he fired a blinding blast of red magic that reduced the door to a pile of splinters.

There was a collective silence as the smoke cleared, and the red carnage inside unveiled itself. What was left of Thorax, Ember, Novo, Blueblood, Bronze Beam, Filibuster, and Paramount was on display for all of them to see.

Without delay, two of the team members were unable to prevent themselves from hurling up yesterday’s dinner off to the side, for the smell of the bloody innards lay strewn about the room.

"Celestia save us," muttered Bandolier.

He had hoped that perhaps one or two of those unfortunate victims could still be alive, though it was impossible by the sheer amount of blood that coated the walls. He, and the other agents behind him, were frozen in the doorway, struggling to step forth into what felt like hallowed ground, or else cursed.

“...Who could have done this?” asked Genenver, also called Gin, a short-statured earth pony stallion with a light mossy green coat and a short-cut thin dark brown mane. He could not bring himself to look away.

Bandolier coughed a few times and held a hoof to his nose, trying his best to protect himself from the aggressively pungent smell of death.

“I want everything preserved and taken back. Clean the room when it’s ready,” Bandolier ordered.

“Should I alert the local police? The mayor?” Amity asked.

Bandolier shot her a resentful side-eye.

“No. This is above our level, and it’s leagues beyond theirs. Something like this could provoke a war, if we’re not careful…Nopony else can know about this. Not yet,” Bandolier said, “Let the Chief know what’s happened. This is top priority, we’re on high alert,” Bandolier said.

Amity nodded and slipped away from the scene, anxious from being in such close proximity to such a grotesque catastrophe.

“Looks like the Chief was right to suspect something went wrong…” Genever said, while agents began filing into the room around them to begin collecting evidence and retrieving body parts. "Meeting all together like that, what were they thinking?"

“I don’t know what I thought we’d find here, but not this…” Bandolier said, gravely.

“It could have been some freak accident of some kind,” Genever hoped, "Spell mishap."

Bandolier shook his head, disgusted with his own alternative theory.

“They were all gathered together in one place...This was intentional. And whoever is responsible, they’re still out there…” he said, his voice giving out towards the end. He at last could not bring himself to look on any longer, and turned to escape.

---

A pair of violet eyes gazed down at the city of white and gold, its bustling streets running high on life. Equestrian flags danced in the wind, while music and foals' laughter could be heard around almost every street corner.

Summer had blessed the city of Canterlot with a cool breeze and a picture-book sky, beauty untold but by sight alone.

But those eyes could see nothing of that beauty, nothing past the heavy veil of grief and guilt that stood before them.

Twilight Sparkle had hidden herself away in her royal bedchamber, since she arrived in the city that morning. The world remained oblivious to her grave treachery, though even so, judgment felt inescapable. She was lost in a pit where light could not reach; and while her torments endured she still had to force a cordial smile and a regal step everywhere she went. She wondered whether she had it in her, to deceive not only the world, but herself.

There was no other way.

She knew of heroes of incontestable fame and grandeur, who may have yet committed such evil. Out of necessity or for survival perhaps, but evil nonetheless. She could not be denied a place among them, Twilight thought, not while she remained a hero of Equestria. The world would always believe as much, at least.

And Starlight. One more trial to face, one more punishment for her mistakes. Hellhatch was one of only two options, she thought; she could not have humored the other. But she was finished now, or at least she told herself so.

She would tell Starlight the truth, when the time was right. But the dust had to settle first.

She leaned deeper against the couch by her window sill, attempting to find some peace of mind in the gentle wind.

However, her attempts were short-lived.

“Twilight!” came a voice from behind her, belonging to Spike.

Twilight took a moment to collect her thoughts, before swiveling her head to face the intrusion.

“Hi Spike,” Twilight said. A warmness returned to her, as a smile reached her lips.

“Y'alright? You’ve been up here all day,” Spike said, slightly concerned, as he flew deeper into the spacious bedchamber. The room contained an assortment of luxurious purple fabrics and priceless furniture, and bookshelves lined almost every wall. Even in the highest facet of royalty, Twilight could not deny herself a vast personal library at her bedside disposal.

“I’m alright. Just tired from all this running around,” Twilight said, mid-yawn, “Did Rarity get back to you? What did she end up doing?” Twilight asked, assuming Spike of all creatures would know.

“About the move? She’s still on the fence. I was just with her and Sassy Saddles in the boutique downtown. I think Sweetie's getting homesick,” Spike reported.

Twilight sighed, rising from the couch to go pour herself some tea from a pot sitting on the coffee table.

“I don’t blame her. She’s left all her friends behind,” Twilight said, while pouring the tea.

“Right. But duty calls, I guess,” Spike said.

Twilight paused, before taking a grand sip from her cup of tea.

“...Yeah,” Twilight said, staring off into space.

“Oh, but what I really came for…” Spike said, pausing to reach into a satchel drawn by a string across his chest, “Was to give you this.”

From his satchel, Spike retrieved a folded off-white envelope, stamped with a red wax emblem.

“From Mayor Mare,” Spike said, flying closer towards Twilight to hand it over.

Twilight hesitantly accepted the envelope, gently placing it on the coffee table as if it was a bomb about to go off.

“When did you get this?” Twilight asked, her voice only a whisper.

“Just a few hours ago,” Spike said.

Twilight took a deep breath, not particularly in the mood for whatever was inside that letter.

“I’ll need to read this later. I still feel exhausted,” Twilight said, feigning some lightheadedness, "Oh, I heard the new shipment of gems came in this morning, you'd better get your fill."

Spike's eyes widened.

“Say no more,” Spike grinned, before politely excusing himself.

He darted off through the air, letting the door slowly close shut behind him.

As soon as the door was shut, Twilight immediately took to ripping open the envelope.

Inside was a parchment letter and a vial of black powder, loosely secured with a miniature cork.

Twilight unfolded the letter, and read what had been scribbled down.

Urgent.

Twilight rolled her eyes, and threw the letter back down on the coffee table.

Making no effort to hurry, Twilight unscrewed the vial, and began gathering some items from a bookshelf sitting below her window.

In a bowl of water, she mixed the vial of powder with some acidic green liquid until the mixture began to boil. She proceeded to ignite her horn and set a small flame to the mixture, which burst into a fist of wispy green fire.

The flames rose into the air, evaporating into a smoky, sparkling, magical wall that hovered in the air.

And in that magic, a whirlpool of energy began to manifest within its core, gradually revealing an image of a wooden room inside.

“Oh, your highness, there you are,” came a voice from out of sight in the portal-bound room.

A grey-maned pony quickly jumped into frame, adjusting her round glasses and taking a seat in front of the magical portal.

“I apologize for the suddenness, and I hope I haven’t interrupted anything, you must understand how-” Mayor Mare began.

“Ms. Mayor. What do you need?” Twilight asked, coldly.

“I only wished to...Well you see, it’s near afternoon. And no news of your pupil’s treason has graced my ears...Surely you must find this...concerning,” Mayor Mare said, admittedly nervous to be challenging Twilight’s intentions, or perhaps even competency. Still, Twilight's hardened scowl was enough to crush any control Mayor Mare believed herself to have over the conversation.

“Nopony is to know of anything having to do with Starlight’s arrest. As far as anypony knows, she’s currently on a far-away friendship mission,” Twilight said, annoyed with having to be reminded.

“I don’t understand. Why don’t we just execute her? Starlight Glimmer was-”

“Never supposed to be a part of this,” Twilight interrupted, disgusted with the mayor's suggestion, “She was an unnecessary complication, and it’s been dealt with,” Twilight said, repressing her own guilt, “Your hostility towards her and your foolish provocations likely fed into her curiosity about what Posh's little band of heroes was up to. I recommend you be especially careful from here onward, and avoid making anymore careless mistakes. I would rather not send any more of my friends to the Frozen North,” Twilight said, bitterly.

Mayor Mare shrunk down slightly in her chair, fearful of angering Twilight any further.

“My officers found the town hall cleaned out and empty this morning," Mayor Mare said, deciding there was no pleasant way to put it, "There’s no evidence of what happened."

Twilight merely snickered, having assumed that would be the case.

“They’re faster than I thought,” Twilight muttered to herself, “It doesn’t matter. Creatures will believe what they want to believe. Our business is settled.”

“Actually...That’s the other thing I had to speak with you about,” Mayor Mare said.

“What is it?” Twilight demanded.

“It’s only...Prince Rutherford, the Yak, I've been informed that he was meant to attend last night’s event. Only he became ill, and returned home early…”

Twilight froze for a moment, solemnly coming to a grim understanding. In all the madness, she had not considered the yak was involved as well.

“I’ll handle it...Ms. Mayor, be sure to keep things under control. I had meant for Starlight to work with you, but...” Twilight said.

"I will carry on just fine without her," Mayor Mare said, and the strain in her voice betrayed her jealousy, "As I always have."

"Worry about Ponyville. Leave me to worry about the rest," Twilight said.

“As you wish, your highness,” Mayor Mare said, her voice quivering slightly, “Thank you for taking the time to-” she attempted to say, before Twilight cut her off by dousing the fiery portal with water from a nearby glass pitcher.

As the smoke cleared, Twilight was renewed in her conviction. Though her heart was heavy, she could not yield quite yet.

There remained work to be done.

---

Stuck for hours in her new prison cell home, Starlight had managed to avoid angering her finicky cellmate for the entirety of the day, save for a string of muttered curses thrown in response to Starlight sneezing.

Her uniform, which had been delivered to her cell soon after her arrival, was a tight-fitting orange jumpsuit and a pair of boots.

Her first night in the prison, she was cursed with insomnia. Lying on her rock-hard mattress in the freezing cold with no blanket, she only managed to drift off occasionally for an hour or two, or until her cellmate’s snoring reached a certain decibel. Still, she was alive, and maybe even stood a better chance at survival compared to some of the other prisoners she had seen.

Maybe this won’t be so bad.

She stirred on the concrete mattress, and then found herself face to face with a rat the size of a small cat, chewing on her boot.

Starlight screeched and swatted the rat away.

She sighed in exhaustion, and figured she might as well face the facts, that she was in possibly the worst prison in Equestria, and unless somepony near and dear to her, or anypony for that matter, was to rescue her, she would be stuck here, worked to death or executed. Whichever came first.

The rat returned, but this time Starlight was prepared, grunting and kicking it back to the floor.

“Do you mind? I’m trying to sleep,” the voice of her cellmate fell from the top bunk.

“There’s a rat!” Starlight said.

“You don’t say,” the cellmate sighed, “They like to eat boots. Use them as a pillow.”

“Use my boots as a pillow?”

“Oh, like that mattress is much of a cushion? Keep a rock in your hoof and smash its skull in when you get the chance. But make sure to leave the body, 'kay. Then the others will get the message. You better do it, or you’ll have one chewing on your face in the middle of the night.”

“Sorry, I don’t happen to have a rock handy,” Starlight grumbled.

Starlight could hear her cellmate’s sigh.

“Why do I always get stuck with the damsels? Here,” her cellmate said. A grapefruit-sized rock fell from the top bunk, and was caught by Starlight, right before it would have caved her face in.

“Thanks...So uh, maybe you could tell me where I am?” Starlight asked.

Her cellmate hadn’t been planning on having a conversation at this hour, but relented.

“Hellhatch Prison. Far off in the Frozen North. But don’t worry, you won’t be here long. A step past those gates is a step in the grave.”

“I can see that. Has anypony ever escaped?” Starlight asked.

“Escape? Death is your only escape, friend.”

Starlight was not particularly satisfied with that answer.

“Nopony has ever tried?”

“Tried? Yes. Succeeded? Not once. Even if you did make it past the walls, there’s hundreds of miles of frozen nothing between you and civilization. You'd starve soon enough, if you managed not to freeze to death first.”

Starlight could hear her cellmate turn over, sticking her head over the top to face Starlight below.

“'Kay, I can see I won’t be getting any sleep tonight until I give you the rundown, so listen close. First: never get sick. Nopony who goes to the infirmary ever comes back. Second: never talk to anypony. The guards don’t like chit chat, so just stick to yourself. Third: never talk to me. I’ve got an entire fantasy world going on in my head, and I don’t like to be interrupted. Right now I’m back in Manehattan, and the sun is shining, and I’m having a lovely little dinner with my favorite fabric designers.”

“You’re from Manehattan?”

“Never ask a personal question,” the cellmate continued, “Never tell anypony that you’re innocent.”

“But I really am inno-”

“-cent, guilty, doesn't matter. All that matters is doing your work well, until you get to drop dead. Back home wasn’t so different in a way, except here everything happens a lot quicker. Oh, and most importantly, do not cross Prisoner 192119. We just call her Nineteen. She’s trouble, and she pretty much runs things here.”

“Got it.”

“Now, if it’s quite alright with you, I’d very much like to get some sleep.”

The cellmate turned back onto her bunk, and was back to her snoring within mere minutes.

Starlight heard the rat scurrying up her bedpost, and brought her hoof down, hard, gripping the rock tightly. The rat lay still.

There was hope for her yet.

---

The next morning, Starlight was shaken awake by the furious buzzing of the prison bell.

Starlight opened her groggy eyes, after innumerable fruitless attempts at falling asleep. Her bruises still stung, and the prison air was about as cold as when she was out in the snow yesterday.

That brief conversation seemed to be about the most she would ever speak with her cellmate, who she knew only as #191809. The hot-pink colored earth pony had an unstable twitch and a collection of nervous tics, and cared not for frivolous small talk.

“Move your boots,” was the closest to a “good morning” Starlight received that day.

Like the other prisoners on her block, Starlight stood outside her cell for morning inspection that day, and was caught at the receiving end of a maliciously lustful glare courtesy of Stewball, which she hoped would not be part of her daily routine.

The dining hall was on the first level, in the westmost corner of the facility interior. The mares ate first on Saturdays, which was a relief, as Starlight was absolutely starving. She hadn’t had anything to eat since before her arrest. She would eat whatever was given to her; she would need her strength when the time came.

Though whether or not that day’s breakfast could be considered ‘food’ was a contentious matter.

After grabbing a tray and a spork, she received her first scoop of the affectionately-termed “muck:” a dark brown paste resembling something that had already been eaten.

Starlight had lost track of her cellmate in the breakfast crowd, forced instead to sit alone at a corner table. Trixie was nowhere to be seen in the crowded dining hall, and Starlight could only hope that she wasn’t hurt or dead already.

Her eyes wandered across the dining hall, and she saw the prisoners were all broken souls, beaten, bruised, starved, and tormented from years, some just months, of grueling incarceration.

Starlight vowed to herself not to end up another ghost roaming these halls, that hope would remain inside her for as long as she drew breath. She was grasping for something to depend on, after having lost everything. She was without purpose, now that Twilight had effectively betrayed every truth Starlight had believed in. Whether friendship was truly magic any longer, Starlight was unsure of. She would have to discover some answers for herself now, free of whatever twisted schemes her former teacher was up to.

Starlight, seeking to keep up with the chaotic system of the facility, was eager to get accustomed to her new routine.

She learned she was lucky to have been assigned to the laundromat and not somewhere more dreadful like the factory or the mines. Still, she would have preferred to get to work in the prison library, if only to have some sort of memory of the life she used to live.

The laundromat was a wide room, with dirty jumpsuits spilling out of conveyor belts, and ponies pushing bins and carts of clothing back and forth.

“Glimmer?” asked a guard stationed near the door.

“Yes,” Starlight replied.

“Station 42. That way,” the guard said, as if she was just another file to be sorted away.

Starlight considered firing back with something, but decided she didn’t want to be getting into any trouble.

Not yet, at least.

At the aforementioned Station 42, Starlight had little clue as to what she was exactly supposed to be doing. She was facing a conveyor belt, with rags and jumpsuits rushing past her at a wicked pace.

Panic began to set in, as she feared a reprimand or some lambasting from the other prisoners.

“Um, sorry, could you show me where-” Starlight attempted to ask a prisoner passing by, who promptly ignored her outright.

Starlight frowned and turned instead to the prisoner across the conveyor belt in front of her.

“Hi, excuse me, I don’t mean to interrupt, but do you know whether I should…” Starlight tried to say, but again she was ignored.

Nervous sweat trickled down her neck, and her left hoof began to tremble uncontrollably. Her anxiety was brought to a halt, however, when a hoof came to tap her on the shoulder.

Holding back tears, Starlight turned to see an earth pony with long, curly, unkempt green hair and a lighter green face, silently waving her in the direction of a bin just a few yards around a corner. The green mare proceeded to grab a jumpsuit from the belt, fold it four ways neatly, and place it in the bin squarely. She turned back to Starlight, waiting for her to follow her example.

Starlight understood, folding the jumpsuit exactly as the green mare had shown her. Starlight raised it up for the green mare to inspect, and was relieved to be gifted a smile and a nod of approval.

“Thanks for the help,” Starlight said, grateful there was somepony willing to help her. She glanced right past the green mare towards the bin, and scooted towards it to dump off her folded laundry.

“Hey, so what’s your name, I’m…” Starlight began to say, yet when she turned around, the pony was nowhere to be seen. Starlight’s brief relief to have found a potential friend collapsed within seconds, and she was alone once more. She did find it bizarre though, that the curly-haired earth pony had practically disappeared from sight completely. Starlight resumed her post at the belt, wasting no time to make up for lost work.

Starlight followed her cellmate’s advice to the letter. While folding and stacking laundry, she spoke to nopony, kept her head down, and avoided the inclination to proclaim her innocence to somepony, anypony. She didn’t belong here, yet she knew there was no point in pouting about it. She was stuck here whether she deserved it or not.

It wasn’t until dinner, after a long day of work, that Starlight finally come across some unexpected fortune.

While waiting in the food line for a steaming hot plate of muck, Starlight noticed some sort of commotion towards the center of the dining hall.

There was a large gang of ponies, all circling around one poor soul like a pack of sharks. They were shoving her to the ground, kicking her between each other, and dumping whatever foul greasy sludge was on their plates over her head.

Starlight pitied the victim, and was close to running over to help, until she remembered her cellmate’s advice.

Stick to yourself.

Starlight noticed the leader of the gang of ponies, a yellow-coated unicorn mare, with a wavy red mane with yellow streaks, and bright cyan eyes. She had a devious grin on her face, as if she got a sadistic thrill out of watching her victim be humiliated. Starlight recognized the yellow unicorn’s face, though she wasn’t sure from where.

Then, Starlight finally got a glimpse of who exactly was at the receiving end of that barrage.

“Trixie!” Starlight whispered, horrified as she watched the azure unicorn be tossed around and bludgeoned without mercy.

Starlight was dead-set on intervening, now that she knew it was her friend who was in trouble. However, she hesitated, upon hearing a small conversation between the two prisoners behind her in line.

“Looks like Nineteen’s got another one,” said one.

“Better her than me,” replied the other.

Starlight quickly came to the correct conclusion, that the cruel leader of that thuggish gang of ponies, who bore a demented smirk at her victim’s expense, was none other than the dreaded #192119, of whom her cellmate had explicitly instructed her not to toil with.

Starlight, however, was unimpeded by this revelation, unwilling to allow this to continue.

Starlight stormed forward, leaving her tray behind on the rack.

“Whoa there,” said one of the prisoners in line.

“What’s she doing?” said the other.

Half of the entire cafeteria was now spectating the beatdown near the center tables. Some ponies knew all too well what it was like to suffer a beating from Nineteen, and her unsightly posse of brutish bullies. It was uncommon for anypony, even guards, to dare intercede, though on this day in particular, the crowd of seated spectators were in for a twist.

“Leave her alone,” Starlight yelled as soon as she reached the scene, releasing a fraction of the anger that had been boiling up inside her since her arrest. Her voice echoed loud over the dining hall, catching the attention of everypony within earshot.

Nineteen, who had her back turned to Starlight and had Trixie’s neck in her hoof, stopped moving completely in response to the interruption.

Nineteen dropped Trixie to the ground, and spun around, while the rest of her gang began to crowd around Starlight, trying their hardest to intimidate her.

“Well, who do we have here?” Nineteen said. Her voice was smooth, sharp, and unsettling, and Starlight quickly found herself having to rethink her approach.

“Starlight?!” Trixie exclaimed, lifting her head up from the ground.

“I said, leave her alone,” Starlight said, taking a fateful step forward, right up towards Nineteen.

Nineteen seemed to be slightly caught off-guard, perhaps even impressed, and glanced back at a terrified Trixie, who had since picked herself up off the ground.

“Your friend was in my way. Maybe you should avoid the same mistake,” Nineteen spat, shoving Starlight back slightly with a single hoof.

Nineteen had spent her time in prison well, it seemed. Not only had she amassed a reputation for causing trouble and rowdying prisoners up, but she was also more physically fit than she had been upon arrival, and Starlight could feel it from only that light shove.

“We’ll be going,” Starlight said, carelessly shoving past a bewildered Nineteen to go retrieve Trixie.

Nineteen was frozen, shocked that a pony could be so brazen as to dare incur her wrath. She made no move to retaliate though, allowing Starlight to trot off with a bloodied Trixie beside her. Nineteen was confused more than anything else, at what could have compelled that unicorn to dare stand up to her in the first place.

The cafeteria gradually returned to its typical rowdiness, while Starlight helped Trixie over to an empty table.

They stared at one another for a moment, before Trixie flung herself back up for an embrace.

"It's good to see you," Starlight smiled, holding her friend as she shuddered against her.

"I thought you were dead," Trixie said, her voice hollow. Starlight helped Trixie to the bench, and sat herself across from her.

“I might be soon enough,” Starlight said, catching sight of Nineteen glaring at her from the center tables.

“You know that was-”

“I know,” Starlight interrupted, “I’m glad I found you."

Trixie rubbed her bruises and managed a weak smile, glad that the two of them were reunited.

"Ha!" Trixie exclaimed, "It'll take a lot more than that to stop the great and powerful Trixie."

And Starlight, despite knowing she may have just made a grave mistake, felt a sense of hope strengthen itself inside her. If Twilight thought those bars and snow would be enough to stop Starlight from telling the world the truth, she was wrong. And Starlight knew otherwise.

She was going to escape.

---

Saturdays were the busiest day of the week.

At least, they usually were, yet on this particular Saturday, there was not a customer within sight.

There was only one employee on staff that day at Short Circuit’s Electronics Shop at Park Avenue, Manehattan. Leaning against a display refrigerator, the dirty-blonde haired, light brown-coated pegasus had a cigarette in his mouth, and the Official Guide to Legal Specialties stuck in his hoof. His reading glasses were uneven on his snout, and he had neglected to fix them after the last time they were bent at the sides.

He had dusky stubble, and dark circles around his eyes. Most of last night was spent cramming for the following night's test. He was no young buck, as his peers often reminded him, and he could not keep up with the class as much as he'd like. But being accepted was enough of an achievement as anything he could've hoped for, and so he made himself work twice as hard to meet the class average.

“What the hell are you doing?” screeched the voice of a curmudgeonly earth pony storming out from the manager’s office.

The pegasus was slow to react, struggling to tear his eyes away from the end of one paragraph.

“I’m not paying you to stand there and read,” the manager croaked. Spit landed in the pegasus' face, and he winced.

“My mistake, sir, but there was nopony here," he replied.

The manager raised an eyebrow. He had not wished to hear anything beyond I'll never do it again.

“Who the hell do you think you're talking to? I could have you out on the street today if I'd like. Wouldn't have much trouble replacing you. One ball and no brain," the manager muttered, as he swatted the book out of the pegasus’ hooves.

He marched back into his office, while the pegasus bent down to pick up his book.

But, as he rose up from picking up the book, his attention was seized by something outside.

Through the storefront glass, he saw a girl, struggling on the sidewalk against two brutishly-built stallions, who were attempting to grab a hold of her.

The girl was a pegasus, old enough for university, with a cream-colored coat and a long wavy dark chestnut mane, wearing a navy-blue dress. She was practically in tears, as the two stallions struggled to grab a hold of her. She screeched and buckled against the stallions' grip, fighting to escape like an animal fleeing a fire.

The stallion slowly put his book down on the check-out counter, hesitantly approaching the scene. He glanced back at his boss' office, and, believing the coast was clear, made his way towards the front door.

The girl screamed again, as she thrashed on the ground. She bit into the flesh of one of her attacker's legs, prompting him to swat her across the face.

"Bitch!" he grunted.

He had her by the throat next, slamming her temple against a fire hydrant. Ponies walked right along by, their eyes stuck straight ahead. The girl shrieked and fought and turned purple under his grasp, as he squeezed and squeezed every last breath out of her.

But the girl's luck changed, however, when one of the attackers suddenly collapsed to the ground, to the music of metal against bone.

The other stallion turned around to defend himself, but he was too slow, catching a lead pipe with his face before he could prepare.

The second stallion fell right before the first, leaving the girl in a heap of tears and staggered breaths.

The pegasus glanced down at her, cautiously, as if she was no mere stranger. He had seen those eyes of deep blue once before. He kept the pipe on him, wary of others who might be close behind.

“Thanks,” the girl managed to say, allowing him to help her up. She caught her breath, leaning against a stop sign and rubbing blood off of her lip.

"Nice swing you got," the girl mumbled, "I meant to do that, y'know. Would have had my hoof on that brick right there, if Luna blessed me with a few more inches. I appreciate it, I really do."

“You're not hurt?” he asked, glancing over his shoulder.

“Not too bad. I've got to hide somewhere, more are coming...Come with me,” she beckoned, grabbing him by the hoof.

He was reluctant to follow this strange pony, and even more reluctant to abandon his post at the shop. But he was drawn to her, to those eyes. He supposed he could not leave her as she was, bloodied and on the run. He glanced back at the shop, and back to the girl, and reluctantly allowed her to drag him off with her.

Together, they trotted down the city sidewalk, as the street traffic worsened and carriage horns blared like a flock of geese. The stallion kept his eyes on the ponies around them, wary of whoever else might be after the girl.

He had no idea where she was taking him, though he didn’t see how it could be worse than where he had started.

---

“What a mess.”

Bandolier and Genever returned to the Ponyville Town Hall after their compatriots spent the waking hours scrubbing it clean, and preserving the bloody remnants of Equestria’s fallen heroes.

Despite their efforts, there were still obvious stains covering the floor and walls, alongside the distinct smell of roadkill.

The Town Hall had proceeded with its business as usual, secretaries and advisors passing by in the adjacent hallway, oblivious that their place of work was an active crime scene. Bandolier and Genever, both wearing discreet black suits, blended in remarkably well. The mayor was nowhere to be found that day, though Bandolier considered that to be one less annoyance to worry about.

“We did the best we could,” Genever muttered, apologetically.

“Not good enough.”

Bandolier recognized that voice instantly, belonging to a grey earth pony with greying, receding short brown hair, and a formal black suit and tie, who was marching right through the doorway.

Behind him was Amity, scurrying past him with a regretful look on her face.

“I was just about to warn you,” she gasped, out of breath.

“Chief,” Bandolier said, extending his hoof.

The Chief, whose real name was Alias, promptly ignored the gesture, insisting instead to take a quick look around the room.

“Is everything accounted for?” he croaked. His voice was raspy and firm, and he could command authority with only the faintest whisper.

“Yes sir,” Bandolier confirmed, "Seven victims. All of the remains were taken back to headquarters for analysis."

“Bandolier, this is Detective Gore,” Alias said, stepping out of the way to allow another creature, a burly grey-feathered griffin with a gruff build and a hard face, “Considering how serious this is, I thought we could use all the help we could get.”

Gore stalked past Bandolier’s still raised-hoof, denying him a second hoofshake.

“Our doctors at Canterlot will do all they can to form a report,” Alias assured.

“You’ve seen the bodies?” Genever asked.

“What’s left of them,” Alias said, gravely, “Now somepony tell me some good news.”

“We checked with the field agents across Equestria," Amity said, "The Maretonian Duchess, the Saddle Arabians, Yak Royal Family, they’re all fine. This was an isolated incident."

“But, we have no idea why they were meeting here in the first place,” Bandolier said.

“They were gathered here. Set up,” Gore said, kneeling down beside the stained hardwood, “There were bruises on some of the bodies, residue of trucidation spells...and the furniture is all broken. There was a struggle.”

“There could be some of the attacker’s blood mixed in there too,” Bandolier posited.

“The blood samples will be difficult to draw evidence from. So much of it is muddled together,” Genever said.

“Or maybe the killer was one of them. And none of them made it out alive,” Bandolier suggested.

“No. Only a unicorn of great power could possibly be capable of what happened here,” Gore said, standing up from the ground, “And I can think of only a few in a position to do so. Someone who could hide their tracks. Someone so unlikely they would never be suspected. Someone who has already won the hearts of Equestria. Someone separate from the political gentry class that gave us the likes of the dearly departed Posh Paramount and Filibuster. Someone royal, even,” Gore said, drawing an implication Alias was unwilling to even consider.

“That’s not possible. And I won’t humor it, Gore,” Alias dismissed, “Posh and the princesses always got along. You know that. Ember and Thorax, they fought at the princess's side not even a year ago. Soldiers, mercenaries, spellbinders, countless numbers of them could be capable of something like this. It's impossible to narrow it down, for now. Bandolier, have all of the remaining samples be sent back to Canterlot. We can’t stay here too long, or we’ll make a scene. Sergeant Genever will stay here in Ponyville, to keep an eye out for any developments.”

“Yes sir,” Genever replied.

“There could be other targets. Amity, I want you to organize a shadowing operation for everypony of interest who attended that ceremony yesterday,” Alias ordered, "And I want you to personally shadow the yak prince, Rutherford. I received a report that he had been in correspondence with Captain Bronze Beam, just days prior to the ceremony. Add any any other creature to the list who may be viable as another target. This very well might not be an isolated incident."

“Gotcha,” Amity replied, "Rutherford's safe with me."

“We’re going to find this bastard, one way or another. But we’ll need to move quickly. This can’t be where it ends,” Alias said, narrowing his eyes at the bloody aftermath that lay before him. Whoever could commit such heinous crimes and manage to get away with it, would certainly strike more than once.

---

After dinner, Starlight managed to help Trixie along all the way back to her home sweet home, Cell #323.

“I think I need to go to bed early tonight,” Starlight said, exhausted.

“You think you’ve got it bad? They’ve got me in the factory! Trixie deserves far better!” Trixie wailed, and her muscles still ached.

Inside her cell, her cellmate was there already, sitting on the floor against the wall. Starlight sat Trixie down on her bunk, hoping that she had not been roughed up too bad.

Ripping off some paper towels from the Cell Block bathroom, Starlight wetted them with water from the sink to try and clean Trixie’s scrapes and bruises.

“I heard what you did. That was a stupid mistake,” her cellmate grunted.

“I had a feeling you’d say that,” Starlight replied, laying Trixie down on her bunk to rest. Trixie glared up at the cellmate, insulted on Starlight's behalf.

“That was Nineteen you were messing with. You’ve got a big problem to deal with. And a pony with your reputation should probably be more careful.”

“Reputation?” Starlight repeated, “What are you talking about?”

“You broke a rule. Now everypony’s heard about you and what you did. You're Starlight Glimmer. You never told me that.”

“You never asked,” Starlight retorted, “And do I get to know your name?”

The cellmate hesitated, her eyes flickering up and down from the floor.

“...Suri. Suri Polomare.”

Starlight nodded, returning to Trixie's wounds.

“Hold still," Starlight muttered, before curiosity took the better of her, "So, Suri Polomare, what else have ponies been saying?”

“They say you’re dangerous. That you took on an entire changeling army by yourself, that you beat Twilight Sparkle in a duel, that you’ve enslaved entire villages...”

Starlight was mildly impressed with her new resume, and, considering how badly she sought vengeance against Twilight, that middle bit was something she didn’t mind ponies telling each other.

“Look, I've never wanted to hurt anypony, I've never beaten Twilight," Starlight began.

“And she certainly didn’t defeat the changelings by herself,” Trixie interjected.

“So you’re telling me you’re not a raving murderous psychopath?” Suri asked.

“Not last time I checked,” Starlight replied.

“Hm...I wonder how much some of these ponies here would pay me to get them a piece of the princess’ pupil...Why, you’re practically royalty. Yes, I can see it now. Five-hundred bits for a leg. Two-thousand for the head,” Suri exclaimed, approaching Starlight like a predator towards its prey.

That menacing, deranged glow returned to Suri’s eyes, and Starlight reminded herself that this was the pony whose murder victim she was replacing.

“Or...We could work together...Because I don’t plan on staying here until I freeze to death,” Starlight suggested.

Trixie raised her head, having already lost hope for escape.

“Didn’t I already tell you, there’s no way out. Not a-” Suri began.

“I’ll find a way...And I could use your help to do it,” Starlight said.

Suri scoffed at the idea.

“....I’ll think about it. You’ve still got Nineteen to deal with, maybe worry about her before some doomed escape plan,” Suri suggested.

Starlight supposed that was better than “no.”

“I should take Trixie back to her cell,” Starlight said, bending down to help Trixie up.

Suri understood, climbing back up to her top bunk, to ponder whether Starlight could really be her chance at getting her freedom back.

Starlight helped Trixie down a long series of catwalks and stairs, back to her own cell on Level 2.

“It’s just me in here,” Trixie said, after being sat down on her own bunk.

Starlight sighed and backed up into the wall, exhausted after a long first day.

“I just...can’t believe it. I can’t believe any of it. How could she do this?” Trixie stammered, "I mean, I always thought she was a snob, but this...And now she's sent us here to die!"

Starlight lacked anything close to a good answer.

“This is worse than killing us. At least killing us would have been quick!” Trixie exclaimed.

“But she didn’t kill us…” Starlight muttered, thinking again on how peculiar that was, “Twilight didn’t kill us. Why didn’t she? What stopped her?” Starlight asked herself.

“We’re never getting out of her,” Trixie said, forlornly.

Starlight suddenly felt invigorated, rising back to her hooves to stand by Trixie.

“Yes we are.”

---

Starlight’s newly-devised plan came together in phases, the first of which required her to transfer over to work at the prison library, where she had initially hoped to be stationed.

But to do so, She would have to face the Prison Board of Appeals, a curmudgeonly collection of ponies in a large wooden chamber, seated at the highest level of the facility.

As expected, the board found her proposal to be rather lackluster.

“I’ve loved reading all my life,” she said with a smile.

A few head-shakes later, and she was thrown right back out in the hallway outside.

Dang.

Still, her hopes were unfading. She would be relentless, she knew, and eventually she would get what she wanted.

There was a sense of excitement running through her, and she saw tomorrow as just one step closer towards freedom.

Her spirits were hijacked, however, when on the way back towards her cell for bedtime, she came across the last pony she wanted to see right then.

“Hey there, Starlight,” said #192119, stepping out from a shadowy corridor to block Starlight’s path on a dimly lit catwalk, “Offly late to be out alone.”

Starlight barely flinched, waiting for Nineteen to proceed with whatever devilish intention she had planned.

“You don’t remember me, do you?” Nineteen asked, smirking.

Starlight did indeed recognize the pony, but had no idea from where.

“Yours isn’t a face I would forget,” Starlight said.

“That’s where you’re wrong,” Nineteen said, amused, “I’m Sunset Shimmer. We have a mutual friend.”

Starlight’s eyes widened in realization.

“I gave you a book once,” Starlight recalled, “But I remember it just as a dream...You were a strange one.”

Sunset snickered. There was a madness behind those eyes, Starlight could see it.

“I get that a lot.”

“So...Sunset, how’d you end up here?” Starlight asked.

Sunset shrugged.

“Bad luck," Sunset said, flatly, "I guess trouble just follows me wherever I go...Twilight had enough of me. And, loving friend that she is, she sent me here.”

Starlight laughed in disbelief.

“Then our mutual friend is really a mutual enemy,” Starlight said.

Sunset raised an eyebrow, confused.

“Trixie and I, we saw her...murder seven innocent creatures. She slaughtered them like it was nothing. She had to keep us quiet, so here we are,” Starlight said.

Sunset's mouth fell for a moment, before she quickly regained her composure. For a second, Starlight felt as though Sunset seemed almost impressed.

“Murder?” Sunset repeated, shocked, “I never thought Twilight had it in her...”

“Look, she’s betrayed us both," Starlight said, spitefully, "She cast us aside like we were nothing. That’s plain. So how about we help each other out, find a way out of here. And then maybe we can have some revenge. Together,” Starlight said, taking a step closer towards Sunset.

Sunset stifled her laughter and turned away.

“As much as that sounds wonderful…” Sunset said, “There’s no getting out of this place, Starlight.”

Starlight shook her head, refusing to accept that absolute certainty.

“If you and I had our magic, we could take this entire place down,” Starlight said.

Sunset paused, and considered the plausibility of Starlight’s theory.

“Sorry. You’re on your own with that,” Sunset said, sauntering off down the catwalk.

Starlight sighed in defeat, frustrated that everypony around her seemed to have already lost hope.

---

Just one more.

She would keep telling herself that, until she couldn’t remember why she had flown over to the bar in the first place.

Lightning Dust had her head resting against an empty bottle of bourbon, muttering an unintelligible slur of nonsense.

She was sitting alone in the bar, which was crowded, even for a Saturday night. Cloudsdale pegasi certainly knew how to have a good time.

Lightning sighed, the soft orange light of the chandeliers washing over her half-open eyes as she mulled over her broken dreams of stardom.

She could have been so much more.

She cursed her former Washout teammates, and Rainbow Dash, that brat.

Lightning had outraced her at every turn, she had the guts to do what needed to be done to win. Rainbow only cared about making friends. Why should a Wonderbolt need friends? She should be the Wonderbolt, Lightning reminded herself, and Rainbow Dash should be the one sitting here instead.

She laughed to herself.

Like she even thinks about me at all.

Lightning pawed at her eyelid, as the droning chatter of the crowd melted into an ear-splitting cacophony.

“I don’t believe it,” came a voice from behind Lightning in the crowd.

Lightning assumed the pony was talking to somepony else, until she stuck herself on the stool right beside Lightning.

“Hey, Lightning Dust! It’s Fleetfoot! You remember me?” the pegasus asked, waving a hoof in front of Lightning’s face.

Lightning eyed down the pegasus, who had an arctic blue coat and a light gray mane.

“No,” Lightning lied, turning back to her empty glass.

“Corkscrew! ” Lightning called out to the bartender, who was busy scrubbing down the bar farther down. She glanced down at her glass, to his disbelief.

“You were lucky I let you have that! You’re done, Dust.”

“J-Just a water then?” Lightning asked, before nearly falling out of her chair.

Corkscrew, despite his reservations, knew Lightning as one of his best customers, and so he gave into her demands, pouring her a small glass of water.

It couldn’t hurt, he thought.

“Thanks,” Lightning muttered.

“Look at you. You’re a mess,” Fleetfoot said, pitifully, “All that talk, all that flare, and for what? You’re at rock bottom, kid.”

Lightning, who was already dizzy and confused as to where she was, could only hear the malicious tone in Fleetfoot’s voice, and understood that she would have to defend herself.

“You don’t know anything about me,” Lightning spat.

Fleetfoot scoffed.

“I know you used to think you would be a superstar. I’ve seen you here before, but I never said anything, because I felt bad for you. But then, I remembered what a jerk you always were, and-”

“And what? What else have you got to say?” Lightning said, turning around to face down Fleetfoot directly.

Fleetfoot smirked, as if she had been waiting for permission to continue.

“And you’re pathetic. But you make for a good punchline, I guess you're not good for nothing, after all,” Fleetfoot said, grinning as Lightning turned red in the face.

Fleetfoot expected some snarky reply, but what she got instead was a hoof swinging towards her face.

Blood and two teeth sprayed out into the crowd, and Fleetfoot collapsed to the ground in a heap, her lights having gone out for a second.

But Lightning wasn’t finished yet, pouncing forwards and proceeding to wail on Fleetfoot, who was defenseless as she endured a barrage of unbalanced hits.

The crowd was egging them on at this point, eager for a good show.

Fleetfoot managed to shove Lightning off of her, which only prompted the enraged, drunken pegasus to grab her glass of water and chuck it straight for Fleetfoot’s nose, breaking the glass into pieces and sending Fleetfoot back down to the ground.

“You...bitch!” Fleetfoot yelled, holding onto her bleeding nose.

"There's your punchline," Lightning growled, waiting for Fleetfoot to try and stand up again before running back towards her.

This time, however, she was stopped by a pony in the crowd, who hastily pulled her away from the wounded Fleetfoot.

“Let go of me!” Lightning screamed, as the pony with his front leg around her neck dragged her out from the bar, whose patrons were as rowdy as they had been all night. Some had made quick bets on a victor, which were paid to the sound of cheers.

"Get your grubby hooves off me!" Lightning wailed, before she hit the cloud sidewalk, where she struggled to stand up without falling back down.

“You’re in big trouble, miss,” said the pony who had grabbed a hold of her.

She gave him a questionable look, answered when he flashed a silver badge from his jacket pocket.

He was a policepony, who had previously been enjoying a night-off until Lightning had to go and spoil his evening.

The officer felt sympathy for her, though, as he too had seen her in that bar before.

But, unfortunately for Lightning Dust, sympathy would not spare her a trip in the policepony’s carriage.

Lightning barely had time to react, before she blacked out right in front of him. She landed face first in the cloud, where she could finally enjoy some peace in her dreams.

---

He found her to be quite odd.

The girl was completely out of breath, her eyes weary and her navy-blue dress caked in dirt and blood. Her black boots were layered in dust, and she was absolutely filthy.

“In here,” she said between gasps for air, turning abruptly on 23rd Street into a street corner cafe.

The pegasus shook his head in disbelief. The girl would be better off running to the police station, or back to her home. But he did not try to dissuade her, following along behind her.

At the front of the restaurant, the host appeared more concerned than angry, with how disheveled, filthy, and exhausted the girl seemed to be.

“....Are you alright?” the host asked.

“Table for two, please,” the girl asked.

The host stared at her, eventually deciding not to ask any prying questions.

He led the pair deeper into the restaurant, seating them in a booth opposite to the street window.

“And may I have a water too, please?” the girl asked.

“Certainly,” the host replied, before sauntering off to leave the two in peace.

The girl's eyes danced over to him.

“You saved my life,” the girl began, staring him dead in the eyes, "You must be very brave, or maybe plain stupid. Which is it?"

"Anypony would've done the same thing," the pegasus said.

He glanced at the window, unsure whether here was a wise place to camp out.

"But they didn't. You did," the girl said, "Most ponies only like to help when helping means helping themselves. Or maybe you thought I'd pay you back somehow, is that it?"

The pegasus laughed.

"It wasn't me who got hit with the pipe," the pegasus replied, "You should see yourself. You look like you've climbed out of a pigsty."

"Might be I did," she smirked, "But the pigs want me back, y'see. In Manehattan, a friend one day is an enemy the next."

She was not particularly pretty, he thought, except for when she smiled. Her face seemed to light up each time she did. But those eyes - he was fixed on those eyes, those deep blue eyes of hers that seemed to glimmer back at him.

“I'm Brandy Bow,” the girl said, smiling from ear to ear, “Look, I really do owe you one. Those ponies would have killed me."

“What for?” the pegasus asked. He had half-a-mind to think this was all some elaborate hoax, one that might end with him stripped of his bits and left dead in a ditch. But in any case, he hadn't any better plans that day.

“...It’s a long story. I’m sorry to have dragged you along with me, it’s just...I was scared, is all. I haven’t got anypony to help me. I just need to stay somewhere safe for a little while. Just until I get out of this city,” Brandy said.

Her ears perked up, and she bent across the table towards him, again catching him off guard.

“How rude of me, I forgot to ask! Who do I owe the pleasure?” she inquired.

“I’m-” he began, before a pair of front hooves slammed onto their table.

Brandy and the stallion backed up into their seats, caught off guard by the sudden intrusion.

“Brandy,” said the intruding stallion, who had short black hair and a ghastly scar on his face. There were two more ponies behind him, crowding around the booth. “Look at that. You’ve made a friend.”

“Leave him out of this, Charcoal,” Brandy said.

“He should’ve left himself out of it,” Charcoal, the lead thug, said, rubbing the sore on his head where the stallion's pipe had made its acquaintance.

“You’re both coming with us. Now,” Charcoal said, gritting his teeth.

“We only just sat down. You might like the join us," the pegasus offered.

Charcoal lowered his face to meet at eye level, growling as he crept closer.

"Listen here, Blondie. Shutting that trap would go a long way, if you’d like to make the rest of your short life go by as painlessly as possible,” Charcoal said.

“I had thought a crack to the skull would be enough to keep a pony down for a while,” he said, standing up from the booth to stare down a bewildered Charcoal, "But I guess the thick-headed ones require twice the effort."

“What’s that?” Charcoal replied immediately, glancing back at his comrades, “That’s it, you little bastard, I’m gonna-” Charcoal began, raising his hoof in the air. But before the brawl could begin, Brandy managed to grab a hold of his leg.

“Charcoal! Stop! Stop, I’m coming with you, see? Just leave him. I’m coming with you,” Brandy pleaded, sticking herself between them.

Charcoal sighed in disappointment, but decided it was not worth it anyway.

“Let’s go. I’ve had enough running around,” Charcoal muttered, aggressively grabbing Brandy by the hoof and pulling her behind him.

“You too, pal,” said one of the other thugs, shoving Blondie along with them, “The Boss is gonna tear you a new asshole.”

Brandy and Blondie were shoved inside an awaiting carriage parked outside the café with one of the thugs, while Charcoal and the other took the steering.

“I’ll get you out of this,” Brandy promised.

He was lost in her gaze for a moment, right before the carriage began to take off.

It didn’t make it far, however.

The first explosion was close enough to flip the entire carriage upside down. The second seemed to only hone in on where Charcoal was stationed. The black-haired stallion only managed one cry of pain before he was incinerated, while the other two thug ponies had already been blown to bits.

Blondie wasn’t sure whether he was alive at all, having been thrown out of the burning, upside-down carriage. He was lying on the sidewalk, besides some small withering flames, covered in ash and bruises from the tumble across the street.

He made out only the image of several ponies dressed in black rushing into the carriage and retrieving Brandy’s unconscious body, before he himself fell under the weight of his smoke-filled lungs. The black-suited ponies must have mistaken Blondie as dead, trotting right past him away from the smoking wreckage.

Passed-out in the street, he was oblivious as Brandy was carried off by those ponies, and pedestrians began to crowd around to inspect the scene.

She was gone.

---

She knew they weren’t much to work with, but they were all she had.

On her third day in the Hellhatch Maximum Security Prison, Starlight had finally gotten a chance to gather with Suri and Trixie in her cell. They had come together to discuss one thing:

Escape.

“There’s got to be an air duct...or something else we can crawl through,” Starlight suggested.

“Every vent is bolted shut. Got any other bright ideas?” Suri said.

Starlight’s reply was an exhausted frown.

“It’s nothing personal, 'kay?” Suri said, with little attempt to be genuine.

“We need a carriage. We wouldn’t make it far if we were just going to walk out through the snow," Trixie said, hopelessly, "We’d freeze to death before they’d catch up to us."

“Suri, they’ve got to have carriages that come up here every now and then, to deliver food and supplies?”

Suri nodded, half-heartedly.

“So all we need to do is find a way to a carriage,” Starlight said, "And we'd be able to last through the wasteland without starving or freezing."

“Brilliant," Suri said, flatly, "And who exactly is going to pull the carriage?"

“We'd take turns," Starlight supposed, leaving Suri dissatisfied, "We'd have to work together. Nopony's ever tried it that way, I figure that why's nopony's ever made it out."

“Um, Starlight, how are we supposed to just steal a whole carriage?” Trixie asked.

Starlight took a moment to think, while Suri groaned and decided to clue them both in.

“Hellhatch is a factory, prison, businessplace, military compound, all in one. They send those delivery carriages here sometimes, with troops or food and things. The problem isn't getting a carriage, it's getting to the yard where they keep them,” Suri said, "It's on the other side of the compound, closed off to us by nine steel gates. That's what the trouble is."

“And getting these restraints off,” Trixie groaned, pulling at the metal inhibitor ring locked around her horn.

“Yes, they’re certainly not very fashionable. And nopony on the outside will want to help a bunch of ponies stuck in chains and dressed like convicts,” Suri said, tugging at her orange uniform.

“Have you got any friends out there who can help us?” Starlight asked.

Suri hesitated, and awkwardly shook her head, turning her head away as if to shield herself from Starlight’s eyes.

“Don’t you? You’re a princess’ pupil after all?” Suri countered, aggressively.

“I don't know who I can trust anymore," Starlight said, considering that anyone of her former friends could be compromised. "And Twilight Sparkle’s no friend of mine. The sooner I can get out of here, the sooner she’ll regret leaving me alive at all.”

“I’d like to second that.”

Starlight, Suri, and Trixie all swiveled their heads to face the opened door of the cell, where a yellow-coated unicorn was leaning, chewing on a fresh, juicy green apple.

“Sunset?” Starlight began, “I thought you were out.”

Suri’s eyes widened in terror. She nervously backing away from Sunset, as did Trixie, while Starlight held her ground.

“I guess I was. Then I thought of how furious I'd be, if you somehow got out of here and killed Twilight before I got to,” Sunset said, approaching Starlight.

Starlight wasn’t sure she intended to go so far as to want to kill Twilight, however if playing along meant winning Sunset Shimmer as an ally, Starlight could stand bending her moral foundations ever so slightly.

Starlight nodded, smiling deviously.

“This is Suri, and...you’ve already met Trixie.”

“Hey, Hoofdini, sorry about giving you a hard time earlier,” Sunset said, though Trixie was not sure she was serious. Suri and Trixie shared a skeptical look, unwilling to trust a pony as dreadful as #192119.

“Sunset, do you know any way to get to the carriage yard?” Starlight asked, “Or where they keep the keys to these locks?”

“The carriage yard?" Sunset laughed, "If I knew, I’d be long gone already. That’s on the east side, far off from where inmates are allowed to go. The keys, though, I do know. All cuff locks are the same, but the unicorn horn locks and pegasus wing locks are each unique. All the keys are kept with the good-and-honorable warden, hidden in some drawer in his office,” Sunset said.

“Steel Shackle is the last pony we should be messing with,” Suri said.

“Attempted escape is a death sentence anyway. If we do this, we’re going to have to go for broke,” Sunset supposed.

“Then tomorrow, let’s meet again here. We’ll figure out the best way to get to where we need to go for this to work,” Starlight said.

Trixie was still reluctant about their chances, but supposed she had little to look forward to otherwise, wasting away in the factory.

Starlight smiled, seeing promise in the group. Her hope was unbroken, and her desire for vengeance was powerful enough to drive her towards whatever end.

These chains would not hold her down.

---

Over the mountains of the north, the moon lit the snow-covered fields of Yakyakistan, tucked away from the borders of Equestria.

“But your majesty, your life in danger,” said the personal attendant to the great Prince Rutherford, as he ravaged his meal at the Great Hall feast table.

“This beast,” Rutherford bellowed, gulping down a thick mug of ale, “It not dare march past mountains to yak lands.”

The attendant shook his head in frustration, but the stubborn prince could not be swayed, even after hours of pressure to hide somewhere safe.

News of the massacre in Ponyville had covertly reached the royal administration, courtesy of Amity Stiletto, who had been sent to warn Rutherford that his life was at risk.

Amity, who had been permitted a room in the royal yak halls, was still unable to get any sleep. Whoever this monster was, they would likely be too powerful for even the strongest yak warrior. And Amity herself knew she would not stand a chance should she have to face down such a foe. And so she hid beneath her blanket, trembling at every creaking floorboard or whisper in the dark.

She had pleaded with Rutherford already, begging him to go into hiding, or flee to the capital, or at the very least, double his security. But the yak would not heed her. He enjoyed the show she put on, at least, telling tales of gore vengeance and bloodthirsty phantoms. Amity could not return to headquarters with Rutherford's blood on her hooves, but she could not contest his authority, nor his iron will, no matter how misguided she found it. At the very least, he might have information for her.

"If one seeks bloodshed, they will find it. Maybe sooner than they would like," the prince had told her, "Bronze pony lived by the sword. So he died by the sword."

"Did he have many enemies?" Amity replied.

"Surrounded by them, Bronze pony thought. Told me this, many times," Rutherford said, "Time for change, he said to me last. I will never know what he meant. He died same day."

There was a sadness in the yak's eyes, and Amity was hesitant to press him any further.

"And so maybe he really was surrounded, yes. They came for him, as he feared. He fought and he lost," Rutherford snorted, "If the southern sun had not made me ill, I may have joined him. But this is not the south, girl. I, Rutherford, son of Aguillard, fear no southron killer. I am the son of kings. I will not surrender so meekly."

That would be the end of the argument, Amity discovered, before she was confined to her chamber.

Amity kept a sleepless vigil, there in the mountain halls of Dagh Yak, shuddering to the sounds of slippery shadows and howling winds.

Meanwhile, Rutherford retired to his bedchamber. Two armed yak soldiers stood guard outside the doors, a meager effort to soothe Amity's soft heart, though it would hardly suffice against any potential beast after his head.

But before he could even make it beneath the covers, he froze, when his ears picked up on some bizarre grunting and struggling from the other side of his bedchamber door.

The bizarre noises abruptly stopped with a snapping sound, and Rutherford only understood what was happening when a puddle of red blood began to spill beneath the door crack into his room.

His breaths drew short, and he rose from his bed with a mighty force behind him. He refused to call for help, nor attempt to escape. He would face down this enemy who sought him dead, and he would be victorious, for a yak lord could never be defeated in his own home country.

The bedroom door was ripped from its hinges, and before Rutherford could even make out who was standing behind it, a blast of fire screeched through the air, swallowing the yak prince and burning him to ash in a flare of screams and crackling.

Twilight Sparkle gazed down at what was left of the prince, four smoking stumps of his legs where the fire hadn’t touched.

She scoffed at his failed attempt at resistance, and made her way towards the window to take flight and escape.

And as she soared into the night, she could hear the screams of the yaks discovering her actions. And she did not smile, nor relish in the bloodshed. She merely flew on beneath the light of the moon, a restless specter in the dark.

Author's Note:

Sorry about the wait for this one! Hope you like it, feedback always welcomed!

Comments

[Xp45]

Well damn, things get spicier and spicier

[shining paladin]

awesome chapter mate keep it up cant wait for the next chapter

[DefiantPosition]

Nice! I can't wait to see how our heroes escape and to see what is going on with Twilight.

[Hyperjade]

This story has a really interesting premise and engaging character interactions, even if it's darker than any story I would normally enjoy, but I'm already getting the impression that it's going to be way too coy about Twilight's motivations for the sake of some kind of reveal. With the current story structure, I can't really see those motivations measuring up to the forceful suspense.

Besides that, the story's okay. Kind of wish that Trixie actually got to punch somepony out when she was being harassed in the prison, since she's pretty much the only unicorn in the room who might be able to given her physical strength, but that's just personal wish fulfillment and not a criticism of the story.

[RDgamer321]

As a reader of many Lightning Dust fanfics, there is a roughly 80% chance she ends up in a bar and a 1/3 chance she ends up fighting a former or current Wonderbolt in the same scene if she is in a bar.

I wish this was an exaggeration, but out of the stories I've read with Lightning in them I can name five where she spends at least one scene drunk and two of those she ends up fighting a Wonderbolt, including this one.

[PearlyDoesStuff]

Sunset of all ponies being queen bitch of a maximum security prison is weirdly unsurprising. Also, drunken Lightning Dust beats the shit out of someone #2000000000². Not much reason for Psycho-Twilight unless Sci-Twi and Midnight did a little trolling.

[SisterHorseteeth]

It is maddening to encounter a story so well-written yet with a core premise I cannot get behind. I was still cautiously optimistic after Chapter 1, hoping that Twilight was under some vile influence, but between evidently committing those murders while of sound mind, and the Equestrian state apparently being in possession of a gulag, I do not recognize this as Equestria.

If I don't continue reading, however, I will be driven insane. I need at least to know what justification Twilight could possibly have for jumping straight to murder instead of petrification or whatever. Even if I have my doubts any answer would make it make sense, I have to know.