Fatelocked

by Pon13

The Offer

You find yourself navigating the dimly lit, foreboding halls of the ancient castle, regret slowly seeping into your bones after embarking on this midnight exploration into uncharted territory. The weight of unease settles upon you as your gaze meets the stone statues adorning the corridor. Each figure exudes an eerie aura, filling your mind with a sense of anxiety and dread. Were they always frozen in those haunting poses, or did you catch a glimpse of movement? The uncertainty gnaws at your thoughts, but you force yourself to tear your eyes away from the petrified forms, only to be plagued by a surge of unsettling "what-ifs" that flood your mind.

You take a deep breath, attempting to steady your racing heart. It serves no purpose to succumb to paranoia; after all, the last thing you need is for your own mind to deceive you. Surely, if you continue further, you will eventually encounter a guard or perhaps even a servant who can guide you back to the safety of your room. However, an unsettling realization creeps over you as you notice the absence of Royal Guards in this particular section of the castle. This realization further deepens the unsettling nature of your surroundings.

The pervasive silence envelops you, almost deafening in its intensity. Each step you take reverberates through the gloomy corridor, amplifying the feeling of isolation. Straining your eyes in the almost pitch-black darkness, you can barely discern a few meters ahead of you. The inky void seems to thicken as you cautiously make your way forward.

A sudden chill crawls up your spine, causing the hairs on the back of your neck and arms to stand on end. A tingling sensation shoots down your back, reminiscent of an electric shock. You try to dismiss it as a figment of your imagination, but as you continue walking, the footsteps that echo through the corridor no longer sound like your own. Your heart skips a beat, and you freeze in your tracks. Slowly, you glance over your shoulder, expecting to catch sight of an intruder or a fellow wanderer. Instead, all you find is impenetrable darkness, an empty hallway devoid of any signs of life.

"Is anyone there?" you call out into the abyss, your voice echoing through the stillness. An eerie silence hangs in the air, leaving you to ponder which outcome is more disconcerting: receiving no reply at all or hearing an answer emerge from the void.

Seconds tick by, stretching into what feels like agonizing minutes, yet no response reaches your ears. With a mixture of trepidation and determination, you decide to turn your attention back to the path ahead. Just as you do, your breath catches in your throat, and you stumble backward, almost losing your footing. A white, ethereal orb hovers before you, emanating a soft, eerie glow that casts a faint illumination upon the weathered portraits of long-forgotten nobles that line the stone walls.

Seeking cover, you hurriedly slide behind a nearby statue, crouching low to observe the mysterious orb from a safe vantage point. Your heart pounds in your chest as you watch the ghostly light for a few moments, unsure of what action to take. Should you make a desperate escape, fleeing from this inexplicable phenomenon? Or perhaps it's wiser to remain hidden, concealed behind the stone guardian that shields you from prying eyes.

Caught in a state of uncertainty, you choose to bide your time, opting to observe the glowing orb as it levitates a considerable distance above the ground. Its gentle bobbing motion resembles a piece of driftwood adrift on a turbulent sea, further heightening the sense of otherworldliness that permeates the air. Minutes pass, and you find yourself growing more intrigued than afraid.

Taking a calculated risk, you abandon your hiding place, cautiously stepping towards the enigmatic ball of light. Every fiber of your being is prepared to trigger your flight reflex, ready to bolt at the slightest hint of danger should the orb sway in an unexpected manner. As you draw nearer, the orb starts to retreat, moving away from you, only to halt its ethereal dance when you come to a stop.

A skeptical thought crosses your mind, hoping against hope that this isn't some sinister "Will-o'-Wisp" scenario, a mirage of light leading unsuspecting travelers astray. Nevertheless, you continue to follow the glowing orb, maintaining a safe distance. Your experiences with fantasy role-playing games have taught you the perils that often await at the end of such elusive trails, but curiosity outweighs caution at this point.

With the orb as your guide, you traverse the labyrinthine castle halls, allowing it to lead the way for what feels like an eternity. Suddenly, as if it has completed its purpose, the orb comes to an abrupt stop, its radiance slowly fading until darkness reclaims the corridor once more. The absence of its glow leaves you stranded, once again enveloped by the inky blackness, with only your racing thoughts for company.

Struggling to discern the details, you squint, attempting to make out the figure standing beside a nearby door. Slowly, the silhouette takes form, revealing the imposing shape of a Stallion guard. The telltale signs of his bulkier frame and the distinct crest on his helmet confirm his identity. Relief washes over you, and you eagerly call out down the corridor, "Hey, guard! Do you know how to-" Your words trail off as the shadowy figure abruptly turns and disappears into the door.

Stunned by the abrupt vanishing act, you stand frozen, questioning your senses. Fatigue gnaws at the edges of your consciousness, leaving you uncertain if your mind is once again playing tricks on you. However, the distinct lack of sound accompanying the guard's entrance into the room sends shivers down your spine. The hallway falls eerily silent, a void in which even the sound of a pin dropping would echo.

Summoning your courage, you approach the door where the mysterious guard had stood moments ago, grasping the faded golden handle. The touch of the handle sends a chilling sensation through your hand, its icy coldness biting at your skin. Though hesitant, you realize you have no other choice but to open the massive wooden door, curiosity overriding any lingering apprehension.

With a determined push, the handle gives way, and the door creaks open, revealing a room cloaked in darkness. "Hello?" you call out, your voice tinged with unease. Once again, your words are met with silence. Taking a cautious step forward, your eyes scan the room, faint outlines of old sofas, beds, and lockers gradually coming into view.

Compelled to explore further, you take another step, seeking to penetrate the veil of blackness that conceals the room's secrets. Suddenly, the door slams shut behind you, jolting you into action. Frantically, you twist the handle and pull at the door, but it resists your efforts, trapping you inside. The frigid touch of the handle sends a jolt of pain through your hand as you desperately rattle the door within its frame.

Breathing heavily, you turn around to face the darkness, half-expecting to catch a glimpse of the entity responsible for this nightmarish ordeal. Strangely, there is only emptiness, and a sense of disappointment settles upon you. In some twisted way, you had almost yearned for a confrontation, if only to bring this torment to an end.

Feeling for your lighter in your pocket, you retrieve it and flick the flame to life. Its feeble glow casts a dim illumination a few feet in front of you, revealing the visage of a tall pony. Startled, you fumble and drop the lighter, uttering an expletive in your surprise. "Interesting," a voice, unmistakably female, murmurs from the shadows.

Recognizing the voice, you hesitate before uttering, "Luna?" The flame from your lighter dances against the stone-tiled floor, providing glimpses of the pony's regal countenance.

"It is Princess Luna, Anonymous," she corrects you, her tone commanding obedience. The candles scattered around the room suddenly burst into life, casting an orange glow that bathes the ancient stone chamber.

Unfazed by her declaration, you shrug nonchalantly, brushing off the attempt to spook you. "Whatever. Why are you trying to frighten me like that?" you ask, your focus divided between the conversation and locating your dropped lighter.

"Pray tell, why were you embarking on yet another nocturnal exploration of our castle?" Luna inquires, her gaze fixed upon you, her expression tinged with her classic 'I'm not amused' look.

"I got lost on my way to the bathroom," you reply, more preoccupied with retrieving your lighter than with the gravity of the situation unfolding.

Luna regards you with a piercing stare, contemplating your response before finally relenting. "It seems, once again, we must give you the benefit of the doubt. Nevertheless, the results of your actions have been intriguing, at the very least."

"Results?" you pause, halfway through picking up your lighter, realizing the gravity of her words.

"Yes, results," Luna confirms, her voice echoing with regality. "It appears that you possess certain qualities we have been seeking."

"Qualities?" you inquire, struggling to comprehend the significance of her statement.

"Must you repeat our words?" Luna's tone grows slightly impatient. "Yes, qualities. You have exhibited them."

"So, you've been testing me?" you question, a mixture of confusion and curiosity in your voice.

"Watching," Luna corrects, emphasizing her role in observing your actions.

"Watching?" you repeat, the weight of her scrutiny sinking in as the conversation takes an unexpected turn.

Luna narrows her eyes, scrutinizing you intently as you apologize with a sheepish grin. Her gaze softens slightly as she begins to explain, "We have been observing your reactions, curious to see how one would handle encounters with the supernatural."

Chuckling nervously, you admit, "You did manage to spook me a little with that shadow guard. Impressive work with your magic, I must say."

Luna's expression turns serious as she corrects you, "That was no magic, Anonymous."

Confusion and a chill run through you as you inquire, "What do you mean? That wasn't you?"

Luna's voice carries a solemn tone as she reveals the truth, "The anomalies you witnessed were real. The shadow guard you encountered was Night Watcher, a loyal servant who suffered a fatal heart attack on duty over a century ago. Despite our attempts to guide his spirit to the afterlife, his loyalty to my sister remains unyielding."

Your eyes widen in astonishment, and you turn towards the door that the ghostly figure had entered. "Wait, that was a real ghost!?" you exclaim, unable to contain your surprise.

Luna confirms your realization, stating, "Indeed. We assumed you were aware of such occurrences."

Stunned, you stand there, utterly dumbfounded. Ghosts... actual ghosts exist in this world? A momentary internal facepalm follows as you remind yourself that in a world of magical horses, the existence of ghosts shouldn't be so far-fetched.

Seeing your confusion, Luna continues, "Well, the night is drawing to a close, Anonymous. We would like to extend an offer to you."

"An offer?" you snap out of your thoughts, focusing on Luna's words.

Luna sighs, her patience wearing thin. "Once again with the repetition. Very well. We are seeking a replacement for one of my special units."

Raising your hands in protest, you interject, "Hold on, Princess. I'm not exactly soldier material. I'm not a fan of those early morning wake-up calls at five AM."

Luna's gaze meets yours, unyielding. "Then I must ask why you find yourself wandering at three AM? Nevertheless, worry not. This position primarily involves research and reconnaissance."

Curiosity piqued, you respond, "You'll have to explain further. I'm one of those guys who loves reading the fine print."

Acknowledging your request, Luna explains, "The position entails joining a unit dedicated to researching paranormal, supernatural, and magical anomalies."

"So, ghost hunting?" you inquire, seeking clarification.

Luna nods, acknowledging the simplicity of the term. "That is a rather basic way to put it, but yes."

Scratching your head, you admit, "I'm not sure... I've never really gotten into that hobby."

Perplexed by your choice of words, Luna asks, "Hobby? Why use such a term?"

"On Earth, for humans who believe in it, they pursue it as a hobby," you explain, hoping to provide some context.

Luna pauses, seemingly contemplating your words. "I see. If your species views it as a trivial pursuit, then perhaps you should consider this position seriously."

Still unsure, you hesitate in making a decision. Admittedly, you do need a job, as Celestia's patience with your neet lifestyle is wearing thin.

"Two thousand bits per month, starting basic pay," Luna offers, her words causing your jaw to drop in disbelief. Regaining your composure, you cough into your hand and respond, "Well, of course, the financial incentive is appealing. But..."

Luna interrupts, stating, "Tax-free, with all expenses paid by the crown."

Your eyes widen, and the allure of stability and financial security becomes more difficult to resist. "So, where do I sign up?" you ask, a mix of excitement and trepidation in your voice.

With a motion of her head, Luna gestures towards the door, signaling for you to follow. As you enter another hallway, a sense of relief washes over you. The sight of candlelight flickering along the corridor eases the lingering dread from earlier. Additionally, the presence of Royal Guards brings you a comforting sense of security, despite their habit of reprimanding you for running in the halls.

After a few minutes of walking, you find yourself accompanying Luna outside, greeted by the cool night air. Each step on the small stones in the castle's gardens creates a satisfying crunch beneath your shoes. Continuing on, you both enter a meticulously trimmed maze, and Luna warns you to pay close attention to the route, half-jokingly mentioning that she has lost many ponies within its intricate pathways.
Both you and Luna come to a halt, bewildered by the sight of an old, rusty metal hatch on the floor. Luna's horn glows with a soft, ethereal light as she effortlessly lifts the heavy trap door using her magic. The aged lid creaks open, emitting a heavy thunk as it hits the dirt floor, stirring up a cloud of dust and debris into the cool night air.

"Down here," Luna states, her voice carrying a mixture of mystery and anticipation.

Perplexed, you shrug and remark, "Odd place for a dungeon..." Despite your curiosity, you proceed to step down onto the stone staircase, following Luna's lead.

"We used to house prisoners here in the past," Luna explains as you descend further into the depths. The narrow stone staircase twists and turns, seemingly stretching meters upon meters underground. To illuminate your path, old candles sit on cracked stone shelves, their wax-coated surfaces telling tales of centuries gone by.

Aware of the potential danger, you run a hand along the cool, night-chilled wall, seeking balance and reassurance that neither you nor Luna will misstep and tumble down the treacherous stairs. Eventually, the staircase widens, leading you into a long, candle-lit room adorned with ancient dungeon doors made of worn wood and rusted metal. The walls still bear the remnants of old chains and shackles, remnants of a bygone era.

Amidst this historical setting, a makeshift office space occupies the center of the room, featuring an old oak desk covered in dripped, aged candle wax and buried under a mountain of paperwork. The air hangs heavy with staleness and stillness, infused with a chilling coldness. You catch a faint whiff of sulfur, reminiscent of your chemistry classes back in high school.

"Luna, do you smell that?" you inquire, the scent triggering a sense of caution.

"We do," Luna replies, confirming your suspicion.

"Normally, that's a bad sign in this line of work, right? I've seen enough horror flicks to know it's a red flag," you mention, recalling the ominous associations with sulfur in supernatural tales.

"Normally, yes. But down here, it's a sign of a pony named Aether dabbling with dark magic once again," Luna reveals, her tone conveying a mixture of anger and disappointment.

"I thought that was illegal," you state, surprised by the revelation.

"It is, unless one possesses a special license and training," Luna clarifies, her expression stern.

Luna approaches a door where the sulfuric odor is strongest. "Aether! This is Princess Luna. Open up!" she bellows, her voice causing the door to rattle on its hinges as she knocks twice with her hoof.

Curiosity piqued, you approach the door and hear a male voice from within. "Ah, leather-feathers! Hang on, ma'am!"

Luna huffs impatiently but waits outside the door. You hear shuffling and banging noises coming from the room until the door creaks open, revealing a well-built stallion. Tilting your head for a better view, you notice his leathery wings. Your gaze shifts to his gray coat as he grins up at Luna, resembling a mischievous child caught stealing from a cookie jar.

"Aether, please tell us why we smell sulfur?" Luna demands, her tone filled with authority.

"Research, ma'am," Aether replies, saluting.

"Research? In your bunk?" Luna's frown deepens.

"Comfort, ma'am," Aether responds with a smirk.

"Is the lab not up to your standards, or are you attempting to summon a succubus again?" Luna's voice carries a note of warning.

Aether coughs into his hoof. "The results aren't clear enough for a definitive answer, ma'am."

Luna gazes down at Aether, a mix of concern and reprimand in her eyes. "You do realize that utilizing the dark arts for personal gain can result in severe punishment?"

"I do, ma'am," Aether replies, glancing at you with his yellowish-green, cat-like eyes. "Ma'am, I do believe there is a cryptid behind you."

Luna maintains her composure. "This 'cryptid' is Anonymous, a human."

"Human, ma'am?" Aether seems perplexed.

Luna mutters under something her breath before replying, "Yes, human. Now, Anonymous will be joining your unit. I trust you to take care of him."

"You can be certain of that, ma'am," Aether assures her.

"Good. Now, I must return to my duties," Luna states, turning her attention towards the stairs. She offers a final piece of advice to Aether, "Oh, and Aether, I suggest finding an harlot to curb your carnal desires. That - we can overlook. We do not wish to discover evidence of your exploits in the dark arts. While you may be resistant to its corruption, one day it may overpower you." With her warning delivered, Luna ascends the stairs and disappears from sight.

Aether watches Luna's departure, sighing as her tail disappears from view. "One way to ruin a colt's quest for some succubus tail," he mutters to himself. Catching your raised eyebrow, he shrugs his wings. "What? I have specific needs."

Realizing the conversation has taken an unusual turn, you redirect the topic. "So, which bed is mine?"

Aether points to the largest bed on the left, with an empty locker nearby. As you approach and inspect the spacious bed, you open the old locker. The top shelf is empty, but at the bottom, you find a small action figurine. Picking it up, you examine the metal pony superhero, its paint faded, and its edges rusted from the passage of time. Curiosity piqued, you notice that the figurine's tail has a spring mechanism. Pressing down on it with your thumb, the back legs shoot up and out into a bucking motion.

Curious about its previous owner, you inquire, "Who used to own this bed?"

Aether glances up from his notes and responds, "That would be Horned Charge, the minotaur of our unit." He walks up to you, taking the figure in his hoof and demonstrating the same motion. "He passed away a few months ago. He went on a mission with Unit Alpha to Black Hoof Hill."

Noticing the pained expression on Aether's face, you contemplate whether to ask for more details. Aether tucks the toy under his wing and looks up at you, gauging your readiness. "You can ask. You should know what you're getting yourself into."

Feeling a mix of uncertainty and determination, you decide to inquire further. "What happened?"

"We're not entirely sure of the full story, but Black Hoof Hill is an extremely dangerous place. It was even scrubbed from every map by royal decree," Aether explains. "Despite the risk, Alpha Team was tasked with recovering a lost patrol that was supposed to arrive at Hollow Shades but ended up in Black Hoof instead. The reports indicate that the Alpha Team found the lost patrol huddled together in an old schoolhouse, completely petrified."

Realizing the severity of the situation, you add, "At least they were alive..."

Aether shakes his head sadly. "No, actually petrified. Sadly, two members of the Alpha Team and Horned Charge, who volunteered to join them, suffered the same fate."

Confusion fills your voice as you inquire, "Why did Horned Charge go if he knew it was dangerous?"

"He knew it was his end. He had no choice," Aether reveals, his tone laced with sorrow.

Shocked by this revelation, you struggle to comprehend. "He knew he was going to die there?"

Aether offers a knowing smile. "You'll see soon enough. Anyway, let's get you equipped with your gear. You have a similar build to our old minotaur friend, though with less muscle. We can adjust for that, though."

Curiosity mingled with unease, you follow Aether's lead, stepping over chalked runes etched into the stone floor, surrounded by more candles. The sight tells a tale of summoning rituals, if you've ever seen one.

Concerned, you voice your apprehension, "That seems dangerous."

Aether shrugs casually. "It's only dangerous if you open a portal to the lower levels. The old records state that succubae exist on the first level. Although, I'm starting to think I've mistranslated some of the ancient texts somewhere along the line..." He taps his chin with a hoof, pondering over the scattered notes.

Eager to change the subject, you inquire, "So, which bed is mine?"

Aether claps his hooves together, diverting his attention back to the task at hand. "The biggest one on the left, with the empty locker."

Walking toward the designated bed, you inspect it, noting its size and suitability. Opening the old locker, you discover a small action figurine sitting at the bottom. It's a reminder of the bed's previous occupant and the memories associated with it.

Looking up at Aether, you contemplate asking about Horned Charge's fate but decide against it for now. There will be time for such conversations later.

Aether guides you out of his bunk room and down the long corridor until you reach the furthest door from the staircase. He opens it, revealing a spacious store room filled with wooden shelves lined with various supplies and equipment. Pointing towards a desk in the corner, he says, "This is our store room. You can grab whatever you need from here. Just make sure you inform ol' Bright Eyes when you do. She's usually stationed at that desk over there."

"I'll make sure to do that," you reply, noting the importance of following protocol.

"Trust me, that mare sees everything," Aether chuckles as he flaps his leathery wings lazily, creating a gentle breeze. He enters the storeroom, browsing through the shelves. "Ah! This will do. It's Horn's first chest armor. When he first joined, he was scrawny like you."

Without warning, Aether tosses a set of black armor in your direction. You quickly catch it, albeit with some fumbling, and inspect it closely. Unlike the standard guards' armor, it resembles the black Kevlar bulletproof vests you had seen back on Earth. As you press your thumb onto the thick chest pads, you notice a slight compression.

Curiosity gets the better of you, and you inquire, "Is there some kind of powder in these?"

"Yeah," Aether responds, still perusing the shelves. "It's padded with Epon' Salt. It provides protection against possession from lower spirits and safeguards your heart against corruption, which is why it's slightly thicker around the chest area... Well, presuming that's where your heart is... Is it?"

"Yes, it is," you confirm, though a lingering doubt remains about the full extent of the dangers involved in your new role. "Although, something tells me Luna might have lied when she said this job isn't dangerous."

Aether raises an eyebrow, contemplating your words. "Just recon and research?"

"Yes," you affirm. "I'm not entirely sure if I'm cut out for this."

Aether smirks and nods, recalling his own initial doubts. "She said the same thing to me and the others. But the pay they offer should be a dead giveaway..."

"Well, the money did play a part in my decision," you admit, realizing the practicality of financial stability.

"Luna must have seen something in you to offer you the position. Normally, we are selected from the Night Guard," Aether explains, highlighting the significance of Luna's choice.

"Maybe it's just because I'm an alien," you speculate, acknowledging the unique perspective you bring to the team.

Aether bursts into laughter at your remark. "No such thing as aliens, buddy."

You furrow your brow, taken aback by his offhand comment. Before you can respond, he surprises you by shoving an old-looking gun into your hands.

"This is a good ol' salt blaster," Aether explains. "When you encounter dangerous spirits, you blast them to render them powerless for a few minutes."

Examining the weapon, you note its flared muzzle, reminiscent of the blunderbusses used by pioneers hundreds of years ago.

"Yours is a bit different from the rest, designed to accommodate your hands," Aether points out, demonstrating how to load the gem charge down the muzzle, followed by the salt. He then points to the trigger location. "Pull the trigger here."

"Okay," you reply, absorbing the instructions while noting the importance of using the weapon sparingly.

"Just remember not to use it unless necessary," Aether warns. "These things are loud, and having ringing ears and being blinded by smoke doesn't help when you're trying to flee from something that wants you dea—... Oh, and this," he continues, lifting his leathery wing to reveal a silver necklace dangling from it.

"Are these dog tags?" you ask, recognizing the familiar shape.

"They're designed to resemble dog tags, but they serve a greater purpose than merely identifying your fallen comrades," Aether clarifies. As you take hold of them, the tags start to glow, revealing unfamiliar inscriptions engraved on the silver plates. "They're made from the finest silver, imbued with protection magic," Aether explains. "It automatically engraves your name in ancient Equestrian when you hold them."

"I'll take your word for it," you say, realizing the significance of these enchanted tags as you secure them around your neck. "So, when does the training begin?"

Aether ponders for a moment before responding, "Training? We mostly learn on the job. Don't worry, though. We won't be sent on high-risk missions at first. It'll be basic haunted home investigations to start with."

"No boot camp or basic training?" you inquire, somewhat surprised by the unconventional approach.

Aether chuckles and shakes his head. "We're not part of the military like the Army or the Guard. We operate more like an agency, you could say."

"So there's no clause preventing me from leaving if I wish? It's not a 'stabbed in the back of the neck' suicide kind of deal?" you ask, seeking reassurance about your freedom of choice.

Aether laughs, dismissing any concerns. "No, you're free to leave whenever you want. Though there is a two-week notice policy. But I'll warn you, this work can be addictive..."

"Addictive?" you echo, intrigued and slightly wary.

"You'll understand," Aether cryptically responds, leaving the concept open-ended.

Suddenly, Aether's ears twitch, and the sound of multiple hoofsteps resonates from the staircase. Aether glances towards the door and announces, "Looks like the others are back. Come on, I'll introduce you to them."

Stepping back from the doorway, you make way for Aether to greet the four mares approaching. He enthusiastically calls out, "Hey, guys!"

One of the bat mares, with a dark blue coat, rushes forward, pushing her muzzle almost against Aether's face. "What have I told you!" she exclaims, her tone filled with frustration.

"Oh, come on, Bright Eyes," Aether retorts, trying to diffuse the tension. "I already told Luna it was for research purposes..."

Bright Eyes, as she's called, expresses her dissatisfaction with a stern glare. "I swear to the moon itself, if you unleash a demon in this place, I'll personally send you to the lowest levels of Tartarus!"

"Yeah, yeah," Aether waves a dismissive hoof. "Besides, meet our new big guy."

The attention shifts to you as Bright Eyes looks up, her gem-like eyes shining amidst her white, scruffy mane. She examines you and states matter-of-factly, "Well, you must be the human Luna mentioned. I see you've already gotten yourself equipped. I presume Aether has shown you to your bed and locker?"

You find yourself unable to break eye contact with Bright Eyes, fascinated by the unique quality of her eyes. She notices your gaze and responds with a slightly annoyed tone, "Yes, they're gemstones. Good job on your observational skills. Now, go ahead and point them out."

With a huff, she walks away, heading toward the oak desk, and adds, "I have some paperwork to fill. Don't disturb me... That goes for you too, Aether!" The gem-eyed mare sits down then starts organizing the mountain of papers on her desk.

"I wouldn't dream of it!" Aether responds with a mischievous smirk before turning his attention to the other three mares trotting over. "Ah! It's the twins—"

Before he can finish, one of the twin mares, with a blueish-gray coat, swiftly slaps Aether across his face. She then raises her nose in the air, folding her front legs defiantly.

"Luna dammit, it's always the quiet ones..." Aether mumbles, rubbing his cheek. "What was that for, Mini?"

The other twin, with a narrowed gaze and orange eyes, responds sharply, "You know exactly what you've done... Or what you've been doing!"

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Molo!" Aether protests, seemingly oblivious.

"I already said, I have no idea what you—"

Once again, Molo interrupts with a slap, causing Aether to wince in pain. "Ow! Hey, watch it!"

Feeling a tap on your hip, you look down and meet the pink, catlike eyes of the third bat mare, who blows her fringe from her face. "Hey, never mind those three. This is a normal night..."

"Are you sure? She's hitting him pretty hard," you remark, concerned for Aether's well-being.

"He'll be fine," the mare assures you. "Look, he's smiling. He's getting off on it." She then introduces herself, saying, "Oh, and where are my manners? I'm Dawnlight."

"Nice to meet you, Dawnlight. I'm Anonymous, Anon for short," you respond, appreciating her friendly demeanor.

"Likewise," she smiles warmly. "I see you're planning to accept the job, then," she observes, gesturing towards the armor still in your hands.

"I think I'll give it a shot," you confirm, your decision solidifying.

"Good to hear," Dawnlight replies, her gaze shifting to the others. "Hey, guys! You know what this means?"

The bat ponies turn their attention to Dawnlight, awaiting her announcement.

"It means Anon here needs to be inducted," she declares.

As if on cue, the other bat ponies' faces light up with grins, giving you a sense of foreboding.