> King of Games
>  by Nightmare_0mega
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> Chance
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

One hundred years ago, deep within the great deserts of Southern Equestria, the hidden tomb of the long forgotten Pharaoh Atem Gah'mes had finally been uncovered after over a millennium of being sealed off from the world. Archeologists of the highest caliber, guided by local militia acting as defenders, had sought the tomb for academic desires after learning of its existence from ancient pre-Equestrian texts and legends about the cursed ruler of the ancient desert. What they expected to find was a burial chamber filled with wards against the cursed Pharaoh. What they did not expect was a decently intact and extravagant chamber decorated in gold, silver, and gemstones. Even more surprising, along with an intricate and dignified sarcophagus of the Pharaoh, was a tablet of marble, etched in a long forgotten language, implanted with five golden artifacts and two empty sockets, each of them imprinted with the Eye of Anubis. 

While their expectations of the tomb were pleasantly dashed in favor for such a discovery, tragedy still struck the team. Two of the guardians that helped them on their journey pulled crossbows upon the unsuspecting researchers and their own comrades, and began to fire. A few of them lost their lives, while several had been injured in the attack. One of which was the yellow coated and black maned earth pony named Golden Trail. As he lay upon the ground, the light leaving his eyes, visions of his fallen colleagues and the marauders desecrating the tablet fading, he began to hear a voice.

"It doesn't have to end this way," the voice said.

Gazing about, Golden Trail spied a curious, golden sphere, etched in mysterious hieroglyphs, half buried in the sand of the tomb. Drawn to it with the last of his energy, he crawled with all his might and clutched the strange artifact. Upon a simple touch, the peculiar object glowed like the sun itself, and as he held it close to his barrel, the desperate archeologist blacked out.


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"When he next woke up, it was three days later. The wounds he sustained had miraculously vanished, and he was back in town, within the inn's room he had rented. The marauders had disappeared, and the surviving members of his group were hospitalized. It was a tragic day indeed, but one thing was for certain. All but one of the artifacts were gone, and he possessed the last of them. Despite his oath as an archeologist, he was compelled to keep the golden treasure. To keep the little sphere safe in his private possession." The gruff, light brown stallion finished his tale with a smile as he looked down towards his little son within the crib, Button Mash. The small, dark grayish brown foal with the moderate tangelo and streaked, light orange mane absentmindedly suckled his own hoof as he watched his father with twinkles in his amaranth eyes. 

"Honey, are you telling Button that story again?" a mare's voice asked from down the hall.

"Heh, yeah, but he seems to enjoy that particular one," the stallion answered with a wry smile, "I mean, just look at 'im!" The little colt cooed and gurgled in response as he watched his father intently, whom walked off to the nearby closet, rummaged through the contents, and brought out a small, old wooden box, intricately carved in majestic designs. He brought it over to Button's crib, and opened it. The little colt's eyes widened to the shiny golden color of the contents, and uselessly reached for the box. The stallion's laugh was hushed, as he closed the box again. "You see this, Button? This is that artifact I told you about: It's a puzzle sphere. Passed down from my great grandfather, to my grandfather, to my father, and then to me. When my grandfather had received it, it was in pieces, as if it were dismantled by his father sometime in his life. He tried to put it back together, but he could never figure it out. No one in our line has. Then again, not a single one of us was as smart as my great grand-pappy." He laughed gingerly, as the little colt kept reaching, but was just too small to grab the box. The father sighed, wandered back to the closet, and placed it back inside, tucked away within the dark and unknown. "One day, my son, it will be yours to have, and yours to solve. I can tell that you'll be the one to do it."

As he gently tucked the small child in, passing him his favorite teddy bear with outstretched forelegs, he gave the little one a small goodnight kiss before he left Button's room. "Goodnight, son," he whispered, "I'll see you in the morning." The door slowly closed behind him, as the small foal drifted off to a peaceful sleep.


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~ ~ Twelve Years Later ~ ~


"MOOOOOOM! I'm off to school nooooooow!" 

It was a sunny day in the little town of Ponyville, as children from across the neighborhood and surrounding area all proceeded out their doors and to the school house. Some were accompanied by parents, while others grouped up with their friends. While the former was out of the question in regards to Button Mash's busy mother, the latter was also off the table, despite being more desirable. It had been a few years since his best friend Sweetie Belle moved out of Ponyville with her sister, and not a day went by where he missed seeing her. Regardless, he tried to keep a pep in his prance, reassuring that he'll meet her again when it's his turn to leave town for his own pursuits. So he trekked alone through the comfortably familiar town, saddle-pack well fastened to his frame, cap resting upon his mane, and mind buzzing with all sorts of musings and ideas in the relative silence. 

He gave a slight sigh at the thought of his past as he checked his very bare flank, almost out of habit. While he had some sort of speculation of what he hoped his mark would be, it turned out that he was undoubtedly perhaps the latest bloomer of the lot. Even Sweetie and her friends, despite their best efforts over the years, were unable to make any headway for him. The attitude around blank flanks had long since become considerably more pleasant, at the very least, making his recent years relatively easy. He smiled with the memories of those that were responsible for such a change, ever grateful for the lasting effects his dear friend left behind, despite his own lack of progress in realizing his talent.

And so, like the previous days before him, he reached the school house with the other kids, getting ready for a brand new day. Also like the previous days before him, the routine played out smoothly and quickly: Lessons of the world around them, questions asked and answers received, experiments and trials attempted, all strung together with recess and lunch breaks, before it was inevitably time to go back home. Every day was the same, boring event, not helped by his own lack of social interaction. Sure he did attempt to make new friends over the years, even after Sweetie left, but it never took off as well. His own fascinations and passions were a far cry more fringe than most outgoing, extroverted ponies, let alone children. No one gave much of a flip that he was extremely good at chess, or that he could solve a puzzle cube in an hour, complete an advanced puzzle in dozens of minutes, or never even lost a one-on-one match in "Them's Fightin' HerdsTM". It didn't bother him, though. Even if no one even came close to the level of interest he had for games and puzzles, there was no doubt in anypony's mind that becoming the best with them was certainly taking a step towards his true calling. It was just a normal, average day.

At the very least, today's subjects held Button's Interest. In mathematics, they were continuing the studies of probabilities, fractions, and percentages, even discussing how it applies to both regular life and recreation, citing Las Pegasus as a prime example. In Literature, they were taught the merit of character flaws and character foils, how both heroes and villains compliment each other in terms of the story in some way, shape, or form, and how character dynamics and personalities can play off each other. History was all about the ancient desert ponies and the pharaohs that ruled them, and how many of the tombs and lost temples have only been recently uncovered.

As the day came to a close and the evening matured to a warm orange glow, the children left school for another night and returned to town; to play, be with friends, and ultimately return to their loving families. Mothers and fathers greeting them with warm smiles and hugs, questions about their day, and the occasional lecture if trouble was ahoof. Button Mash was no exception, as he returned to his comfy home and a loving mother.

"MOOOOM! I'm HOOOOOME!"

It was a simple home, like most others: Warm, golden yellow walls framed with dusty rose painted corner support beams housing handcrafted furniture and decorated with various nick-knacks. Pictures of the family dotted the walls and surfaces, presenting a proud mother and father with their baby colt, solo portraits for the sake of class and remembrance, and the occasional photo of a happy memory. Button looked up to the portrait of his father. A former excavator and archeologist, mustache enthusiast, and loving husband and provider that left an impact on his young heart. It was hard to believe he could remember him so well even now, even after so many years have gone by since he passed from heart problems.

Never the less, the ponies left behind were strong, both wife and child, brave even in the face of such sorrow, and despite hardships and occasional bumps in the road, they continued to live happy. In the land of Equestria, especially in Ponyville, it was hard to imagine anything else happening that could make Button’s life at home more difficult, and he’d prefer to keep it that way. Honestly, the relative safety of the small town and protection by the Princess of Friendship is exactly why it was so peaceful. Especially with such strange things happening all over the world, with Canterlot as the prime example of the bizarre; It went from the shining beacon of love, tolerance, and prosperity to a saccharine city with a few ticks hiding at its underside. The Princesses have tried to bring the peace back up to par, but due to being swamped by the Nobles’ demands and the complaints of everyday citizens, it hasn’t been easy to getting anything restored. At least someone there took up the mantle of Mare-Do-Well to try and put the city back under control. It was always so cool for Button to read about her exploits in crime fighting, something he wished he could emulate. An average, silly colts’ dream.

Life was good for the little colt and it very much seemed like nothing was gonna change that.


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Dark, darker, yet darker still, the average day bled into a cursed night, as the Royal Guard scoured the town from snout to tail. Their presence, an unusual sight by most in the sleepy little town at the best of times, was almost chilling after word got around the drowsy populous that something horrible had transpired.

At the center of it all was the Castle of Friendship, home to Twilight Sparkle, which was situated at the top of Ponyville. Dozens of guards were lined up while the leader of the platoon conversed with the honored Princess herself.

“I’m really sorry I can’t be any more help than this,” Twilight apologized, giving a small bow.

“It is quite unnecessary to apologize, Princess,” He replied humbly, “Normally, we wouldn’t dare impose such a task on you, but our hooves are tied at the moment. The house has been ransacked beyond reasonable repair, and the poor boy doesn’t have anywhere to go. No close relatives live within a reasonable distance to the victims, and there aren’t even any orphanages near enough to be used for lodgings.”

“Well, I have enough room to hold onto the little guy for the time being, that’s certain,” she admitted, “I just can’t believe something like this could happen to my Ponyville.”

“Times are strange these days, Princess Sparkle.”

“I suppose,” she muttered, before a thought came to the forefront, “Have you found anything out on who did this?”

“We have, but it isn’t much to go by at the time being. Aside from the remains from the explosive we found, all we have been able to figure out is that at least two individuals were involved. One of them is possibly of griffon origin, if the feathers found are any indication, but we cannot guarantee the theories presented by our forensics team. Tracks were also found, but were mixed well with tracks from other ponies. It would take days to properly sort out which are which.”

“Right,” she sighed. “Well, thank you for giving me a rundown of the situation. I suppose you’ll be notifying Princess Celestia and Princess Luna as well?”

“While this is a local matter,” he started with a grimace, “Despite the victim’s... ‘living’ condition, it’s obvious that the attempt on her life is what put her in this situation. In any case, attempted murder is still quite the crime. It’s something that will need to be taken to the high court of the Princesses’. If... When we do find them, it’s very possible that the surviving able victim will be called to identify the perpetrators and testify against them. He’ll need to be kept safe until such time.”

“I’ll keep a close eye on him,” she reassured. She looked behind her, able to see into one of the rooms that he was placed in for the time being. The door was cracked open enough to reveal her forced guest was huddled up on a couch, desperately hugging his belongings within a saddle-pack.

“We know you will.” The commander of the platoon gave a small bow, before ending with a short thank you and wishing her a good night. Twilight responded in kind before she gently closed the door, held against its surface for a moment before sighing and dropping to the floor. So many questions ran through her head, and not a single one of them had an answer she didn’t dread. And here I was hoping to start up my School of Friendship by next week, she thought bitterly. Not with this horrible cloud over the town, that’s for sure.

She looked back to the room with the door slightly ajar, and decided to check in on her incidental guest. She slowly approached the room and pushed the door open further before stepping inside. She got closer to the little colt, whom was still clinging to his stuff, sobbing weakly to himself.

“Button?”

He gave a sniffle as he pried his bleary eyes away from his bag and looked towards Twilight. “Wh-where’s my m-m-mom?”

Her breath hitched for a moment, not entirely unprepared for the question, but still lacked a decent answer. “She’s,” she started, trying to find the right words, “Not here...”

“Whe-when can I g-go b-b-back home?” he asked, trying in vain to hold back his tears.

“I...” She was once again caught without an answer, as her eyes briefly pulled away from the little child’s pathetic, shivering form and pleading eyes in favor of looking into the dark of the room. “I can’t say. You’ll be staying here until...” Eyes coming back to Button made her heart fracture, forcing her to reconsider her words. In trying times, she was never one for tactful responses, but this was a situation that needed it the most. Mustering up all of her willpower, she reconsidered what she was about to say, and instead told the poor child, “You can stay as long as you need to, Button. You don’t even need to go to school tomorrow if you don’t want to. You’ve been through quite a bit, and it might do you some good to get some much needed rest.”

Button simply nodded, before returning his gaze to his saddle-pack, which he clung to just a bit tighter.

Twilight gave a sigh as she looked at the clock and noticed it was an hour away from midnight. With a little summoning spell, a fluffy pillow and a decent sized blanket materialized out of the air and floated towards her guest. “Here. Make yourself comfy. If you need anything, just let me know. I’ll be in the room next door tonight. Ok?”

Button simply nodded again, pulling away from his saddle-pack, only to take the bedding and threw it to one side of the couch, not wanting to make a bed for himself for the time being.

She stood silent for a moment, wishing she could do more for the little boy. If it weren’t for the time of night and what he just went through, it wouldn’t have been a bad idea to have Spike help cheer him up. She shook her head, realizing that considering the “what ifs” wasn’t going to do any good, and instead opted for the only thing she could do. “Goodnight, Button. Remember, I’ll be just next door if you need me.” With that, she slowly backed out of the room and closed the door, leaving the child alone.

For a few moments he sniffled, clinging to his belongings, too upset to be tired. His sore eyes, sick of staring into the now dulled and stained colors of his saddle-pack, now gazed around the room. Despite the shadows that were just barely pushed back by the lamp on the nearby desk, it was clear enough that Button was in some sort of lounge or study. Bookshelves could just barley be seen, but he couldn’t make much detail out of the darkness. It was somewhat comforting and inviting, even if his own soul was still shivering and on edge. His eyes wandered to the nearby clock as it slowly ticked away in the silence.

He gave a shaky sigh as his eyes began to drift into empty space, no longer interested in looking at anything. As the interest dwindled, so too did the mental wall he placed after the incident. Slowly but surely, be began to think about what just happened only a handful of hours ago.

It was almost a blur to him, even when it transpired. He had just finished eating dinner and had wrapped up the rest of his school work for the night, getting ready to play a game, when his mom came into his room in a panic. She told him something he didn’t quite catch, then was told to gather this things quickly. He grabbed his schoolbag, and stuffed it with his toys and games, still not really understanding what was going on. He half expected his mother to chastise him for prioritizing his games and action figures but no lecture came as the sound of a crash was heard, and he was suddenly grabbed by his mother and brought to her bedroom. She hid him in the closet, and told him to stay put, no matter what may happen. He did as he was told, and stayed as quiet as a mouse, only watching what was going on through the blinds.

There, he saw it all. Shadowy figures surround his mother, arguing with her. They were looking for something and were getting desperate. She fought back and told them that she didn’t have what they were looking for. Button remembered turning away upon seeing his mother getting hit, afraid of what would happen next. He closed his ears for good measure, only hearing muffled talking and stifled cries of pain. Then, silence, which dared him to uncover his ears and open his eyes. Unable to see anything, he opened the closet door only to notice a hissing sound in the dark.

There was then a loud bang, which threw him back and slammed the closet doors, shaking everything in the enclosed space upon the sudden shock. The impact his little body made against the wall was almost enough to knock him out, but the sudden fall of something rather heavy hitting him on the head finished the job.

When he came to, his head hurt with a dull throb. Further still, the intruders were long gone, now replaced by a guard that had just finished searching the room and opened the closet door to find him inside. While he didn’t get a good look at the scene while he was being moved out, the wreckage, scorch marks, and dark stains told him everything he needed to know.

He gave a light sob at the horrible memory. Squeezing his eyes shut and scrunching up his face, Button tried his hardest to remember better times. His efforts were rewarded with memories of the last few years. Times when he came home from school to be greeted by a smiling mother and a fresh apple pie. Times when he spent the weekend nights playing video games, and his mom would step in to join him, always surprised that she could even play. Times when he came home with a bad grade and even though she chastised him for not focusing on his studies, she still found it in her heart to encourage him to do better. Being grounded for a few weeks with a gaming ban for his poor work ethic didn’t even sour the moment in hindsight.

“M-mom...”

For all intents and purposes, he was hoping the trip down memory lane would help relax him enough to finally sleep. Looking to the clock, it was far beyond his bed time by now, and while he could feel the weight of his eyelids growing heavy, it simply wasn’t enough now. He clutched his bag for a moment, before remembering that he threw a bunch of his toys and games inside when he was told to pack.

He unbuckled the flap and rummaged through the contents in the dark, barely able to see what he had actually threw in there, but recognizing a few things from touch alone. A deck of cards, his hoofheld JoyboyTM with a set of games, a colored cube puzzle, and...

Wait, what’s this? Curious about the unknown object, he pulled it free from his pack and held it up into the lamp light to get a better look. It was a medium sized box, gift wrapped in bright, birthday themed wrapping paper. The tag on it said “To: Button. From: Dad”. His eyes widened as it just stared at it, dumbfounded and lost for words. He hopped off the couch with the gift still in his hoof and set it near the lamp. Even in the new light, nothing changed. His eyes hadn’t deceived him. This was a birthday gift to him from his long gone father. Distant, blurry memories of him came and went to recall what he was like to no avail. It was far too long since he had been with him face to face and he too was far too young to have any good memories.

He gave a depressed sigh, disappointed that he wouldn’t be able to draw on any comfort from this sudden turn of events to help him cope. But then, he realized the obvious. “Wait, this is... a birthday gift for me.” He stared at it for a little longer, before he pulled away. In truth, his birthday was still a month away, and he wasn’t about to rip into it just because he felt sad. It didn’t feel right.

Then again, he thought, maybe Mom would want me to open it up to feel a little better. Button gave a wry smile, banking on the possibility that maybe his lost parents actually would have encouraged him to open the gift early in an effort to stay positive in this trying time. He gazed towards the door nearby and listened intently for activity, but not a peep was heard outside the door, or even in the next room over. Assured he was alone with no one to barge in on him, he began to tear into the present and unfold the box.

Inside was a small, old, wooden box, intricately carved with majestic designs. Suddenly, faded, blurry memories came to mind in brief flashes, with images of gold and a warm smile along with the feeling of anticipation. Button slid the wrapping away and set the box before him on the countertop. Looking it over, he noticed a bronze latch without a lock. Slowly and carefully, he raised the latch and pushed open the lid until the contents inside were entirely uncovered. Within the walls of the box was a mound of golden objects of different shapes, and a piece of folded parchment slid between the pieces. Button took out the parchment, wondering what it could be. Upon unfolding it, he learned quite quickly it was a letter, addressed to him.

Dear Button,

Happy Birthday, my dear boy. If you’re reading this, then you’re getting ready to go off on your own and become a fine young stallion. I’m sorry I won’t be there to see it, but my time has been running short for quite some time. I’m so lucky to have met your mother and have had you, and I will never forget the fond memories I’ve made while we were together. I do hope that you’ll never forget the memories you’ve made with your mother. I hope you’ve taken care of her while I was gone, my son.

Button stifled a sob as he continued reading.

Inside this box, as I’ve showed you so many years ago by the time you read this, is the pieces to a puzzle sphere, passed down from generation to generation. No one in our line has been able to solve it since it was first taken apart all those years ago. I’ve given up on it a long time ago because I could never figure out these sorts of things. A rock would have better luck than me, my son.

Button laughed a little.

In any case, even if you never solve it in your life, just know that me and your mother would never think anything bad of it and would always encourage your best. If you do solve it, then keep it with pride, my son. Walk tall with your accomplishment, and remember that if you can do what a few generations couldn’t do, then you can do anything you set your mind to. 

I love you, Button. I hope you have had a good life and will have a better future from this point forward.

The young pony sniffled, wiping away a fresh stream of tears from his cheek as he folded the parchment up and slid it into his saddle-pack for safekeeping. Maybe, he thought, I could give solving it a shot. It might help me sleep, at least.

Returning to the countertop with the lamp and the puzzle, he emptied the contents of the box onto the surface as gently as possible. Despite his efforts, some of the golden pieces still clattered harshly against the polished wood, causing Button to freeze momentarily. Once he knew that his noise didn’t arouse suspicion, he placed the emptied container off to the side, and gazed at the pieces once again, now scattered. They shimmered and shined in the light of the lamp, looking as warm as the sun itself.

Picking up a few of the pieces, he looked them over, trying to get a good idea of how they’d fit together. Surprisingly, after giving them a once over, he realized that there were seventy-two pieces in total, seventy of them being nearly identical, and two uniquely shaped ones. About a third to a half of the nearly identical pieces had etchings and odd bumps along specific sides, almost as if the outside was supposed to be a very specific pattern. Furthermore, the surface to said specific sides of these pieces were ever so slightly curved compared to the entirely straight angles, faces, and teeth that made up what seemed to be the majority of the puzzle.

He picked up one of the two unique pieces. It was a relatively flat piece that seemed to help make up the outer part of the puzzle, with a long, thin, key-like stem that extended out the back. The flat side, opposite of the “stem”, was a pattern in the shape of an eye staring back at him. The design in question sent a small chill up his back as he placed it off to the side and reached for the second unique piece. As for the “stem”, it had small square teeth poking out in at least one of four cardinal directions the closer it got to the base. Like its twin, other unique fragment was a relatively flat piece that seemed to be a part of the outer surface. Unlike it, the outside had no design, but instead had an attached loop, as if a wire or rope were to be threaded through. Considering the size of the pieces and imagining what the completed puzzle would look like, it was safe to say that it would probably the most awkward piece of jewelry to wear if he ever decided to follow through with what his father suggested.

Button shook his head as he put the second piece down and began fiddling with the assortment of gold pieces. It was strange at first, as they all seemingly could fit together rather well. Some even could lock together quite tight, it seemed. However, he quickly realized that this was a puzzle with only ONE solution, and every single piece needed to find the perfect match.

It was quite the frustrating at first, as he fidgeted with several pieces, putting them together in pairs or clusters, only to take them apart once again when they didn’t seem to fit right with each other. It didn’t help that his frequent experimentation would yield a piece with an “outer” design to ultimately face the wrong way. He growled and grit his teeth more and more before he clacked his hooves against the desk and gave a huff. His head laid upon the polished desk’s surface as his eyes locked onto his project.

He stared at the scattered gold pieces for a moment, eyes glowering and scrutinizing the warm shine they gave, almost trying to blame the inanimate objects for his misfortune. It was a silly thing to do, as a bunch of gold puzzle pieces obviously weren’t at fault for what happened. He gave another sigh, before he lifted his head off of the desk’s surface once more, and picked up the piece with the loop. Looking it over, he noticed several grooves and slots along it’s edges, as if certain pieces were supposed to connect there. It was then he had an epiphany.

Picking up a piece with an outer design, he tried to see if it would fit anywhere. When it was a dud, he replaced it with a new piece. Button repeated this process about three more times before he struck gold, having a piece slide firmly into place with a small click. He then tried other pieces on other sides, until eventually the looped piece had four more attached to it. Looking to the underside, he noticed that the five piece clump he made had provided grooves and clues as to where certain pieces would go.

“Oh, I get it!” he exclaimed, as he grabbed a new piece and began to test the grooves and patterns. It took a solid ten minutes of testing and trying pieces until he managed to form a bowl shape out of the puzzle, with a few inner pieces installed for convenience sake. Within a half-hour, he had managed to build half of the puzzle, with the rest of the outer crust slowly forming and getting ready to close. Realizing the situation, he began removing some of the outer crust to add extra pieces, turning the singular fragments into a clump before he attempted to reattach it. However, the action became far more difficult to accomplish as one piece would slide one way, and another would need to slide in the entirely opposite direction.

“Dang-it!” he cussed, before he dismantled the clump and returned the outer pieces to their rightful place. Button tapped his hoof in frustration, staring at the empty pocket that had been formed. It was clear that whomever built the puzzle didn’t account for someone to do it with hooves only, as they were far too stumpy to fit a fraction of an inch inside as it were. It was then he realized why none of his long gone relatives managed to solve it. He gave a listless sigh as he glared absently to the remaining fragments that sat beside the nearly completed orb.

For a moment, his eyes grew heavy, tears welling up in them once again as his chest tightened. With the distraction of solving the puzzle starting to fade as he all but given up the attempt, the events of the night began to slowly haunt him once more. He shivered in the dark, giving a small sniffle and sigh, trying to keep himself in check to very little effect.

It doesn’t have to end this way...

Button’s head shot up after those words rang in his head. The voice sounded so familiar, yet so foreign. His heart began to soften as his tears slowed. There was something so calming and encouraging in the voice that he couldn’t help but heed its call. He gazed back to the puzzle and the pieces, before looking towards the couch where his saddle-pack still lay.

With a new spark of determination, he gathered the incomplete golden puzzle and its shards, brought it back to the couch, and placed them beside his pack. He then rummaged through the sack, and pulled out three pencils. He sat the incomplete orb between his legs so it remained stable, and set the shards as close to him as possible. Then, with one pencil in his mouth and one in each of his forehooves, he gently grabbed a piece and slowly, with careful dedication, brought the piece to the puzzle, and slowly lowered it inside. Once inside, he very gingerly pushed, rotated and slid the piece around until it found its home with a click. He repeated the process, carefully going one by one to fill in the puzzle more and more. With every successful fit, he moved on, and with every failure, he painstakingly removed the offending fragment, or fragments if it was more than one that were incorrect, and started again.

He was adamant on finishing it now, as sweat beaded at his forehead from the heavy amounts of concentration on his part. It was strange really. Not even the latest, most engaging game from his JoyboyTM managed to grab his attention as much as this old relic. Then again, perhaps the sentimental value and desire to make his folks proud is what helped motivate him.

After a while he managed to slip in the final normal piece and upon doing so he dropped the pencils he had and looked over the finished masterpiece. It was a stunning looking object, decorated in hieroglyphs scrawled all the way around in layers, with a few distinct symbols etched in specific spots. The only thing it was missing was the second unique piece. The “key” looking-one with the eye.

Picking it up and placing the loop in his teeth, he wandered back over to the desk where the truly final piece lay. As he got closer, he hazarded a glance at the clock, and learned it was a quarter past two. He had been so engrossed in the puzzle, the hours flew by and he didn’t even notice. The time nearly caused him to gasp in shock and drop the orb, potentially destroying all of his progress with a smash. However, he held strong, and silently apologized for staying up so far beyond his bedtime. Not that anyone would be enforcing it for the moment, but he had no desire to push his luck.

After this piece, Button thought, I’ll go to bed. With that in mind, he picked up the last one, and carefully began to slide it in. However, before he even got it a fraction inside, it suddenly stopped. He pushed a little harder, but it wouldn’t give. He sat there for a moment, wondering if he built it all wrong, and would need to start all over again, but then his hoof accidentally bumped the side and caused the piece to turn slightly. As he noticed this, he remembered that the “key” piece had several teeth set in different directions. He then slowly applied a small amount of pressure with his hoof, and carefully turned the key left until it hit a new stopping point. As soon as it did, the “key” gave way and slid deeper into the orb until it hit a new stop. Again, Button turned it, this time right, and pressed further in. After another right, followed by a left, he felt the piece was in the home stretch and the puzzle was nearly complete.

There was then a sudden cracking sound as the sound of the front doors began to scrape and creek. Button stopped what he was doing and swiveled his ears to get a better read. He then heard two voices, and the feint familiarity in them made his skin crawl.

“-aid all we need is the puzzle and the kid. We’ll waste too much time taking anything else. ‘Sides, this is a Princess’s castle. We’re already lookin’ at two hundred years of moon time for this.”

“Why does the boss even want the brat? Wasn’t the mare enough?”

“What, do you wanna be on the chopping block in his place? Besides, the brat’s a witness. It’s better if we have him regardless. Now, where do you think he’ll be hiding?”

Button’s face fell as the blood drained from him. It was THEM, and they were here to finish the job. Without thinking, he raced over to the door, closed it, and locked it, which made two very distinct sounds.

“You hear that?”

The little colt began to hyperventilate in fear as panic began to slowly take over. In a sudden urge to hide, he grabbed the puzzle, blew out the lamp, grabbed his bag, and hid under the couch as quickly as his little frame could, trying hard not to let his shaky breath and quickening heart give himself away. Despite the impenetrable dark, it wouldn’t be hard to see him if enough light were cast upon him at the right angle.

He clutched his belongings, eyes closed, hoping against hope that THEY would search anywhere else. He even hoped that they’d barge into Twilight’s room, spook her, and get turned into frog-oranges for their troubles. To his luck, the door he just locked was clicking gently, as if something was picking at it.

Oh no, oh no no no no, they’re coming, they’recomingthey’recomingwhatdoido? He shivered, hugging his things tighter, trying not to scream out of abject terror, only for a voice to whisper right next to him.

Button... Buuuuuuuutton...

“Wh-... what?”

It’s your fairy godfather, Button...

“Fairy... Godfather?”

Your fairy godfather. Listen to me, my dear boy. You must finish the puzzle.

“Wait... why?”

Finish it, and you can live happily ever after, Button.

“B-but-”

Finish it... ... If you can just trust me... if you can just BELIEVE in me, I’ll make all of your dreams come true, and make the nightmares go away.

Button swallowed hard, eyes barely able to make any sense of the darkness around him. To his frightened, young mind, as he gazed towards where the puzzle would be sitting, he could swear he could feel the eye of the piece stare back at him intently. With a withered, labored breath, he turned it once more, before pushing the piece all the way in. 

Two clicks were heard, and suddenly, two lights began to erupt into the darkened room. Soon, however, the silvery night light that came from the hallway was swiftly swallowed by the intense golden warmth that came from under the couch.

As soon as it happened, however, it all ended as everything suddenly went black.

Power... absolute power is mine once again.

Let the games begin.


=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=


It all happened so fast. They were supposed to break into the castle, nab the kid and treasure, and hightail it out of Ponyville to rendezvous in Canterlot to make the trade and receive payment. Easy job, easy bits. What they didn’t expect was a blinding light, the feeling of being thrown halfway across the universe, and landing hard enough to be knocked out. When consciousness returned, there was nothing but darkness as far as the eye could see.

“Ooooooh, my head,” a gruff voice groaned. “Hey, Way! You still with me?”

“Sweet Celestia, my back...” whined Way, “Yeah, I’m still here, Will. Can hardly see you. Mind turning on a light?”

“Hold up,” Will replied, as his horn flared up, giving the two some light. Way’s blue eyes squinted as he adjusted to the sudden illumination coming from his tan coated and black maned associate. Will looked down to his dark green partner with the brown mane with a hint of annoyance shown in his amber eyes. “What?”

“You know I hate when you don’t warn me when you turn on the light.”

“You asked me to... oh, forget it. I’m not in the mood to bicker with your dumba-”

“Welcome, gentlecolts, welcome,” an unfamiliar voice announced. “Allow me to introduce myself. I am Atem, King of Games. I will be your opponent for tonight.”

The two looked about the dark, even swiveled their ears about, trying to find the source, but came up with nothing. It wasn’t until a spotlight appeared above a figure not a hundred yards away from them that they finally realized who was there. It was a unicorn, roughly the size of a young adult stallion whom was dark grayish brown. He confidently flipped his moderate tangelo and streaked, light-orange mane, flicking the angular, golden strands that seemed a bit unnatural in color to the rest of him. Around his neck, on a bit of string, hung a golden sphere with a giant eye of a sort presented at the front. 

“Wait, is that-?” Way stammered out.

“I think that is!” Will finished.

“I know you’ve been looking for this,” he chuckled, lifting the orb slightly with the mauve magic from his horn, “but I’m afraid this is as close as you’ll get for the time being. I have no desire to lose it after I’ve been waiting for SO long to have it completed... not without playing a game, first.”

“What? A game?” Way questioned.

“Yup. Hopscotch,” he declared, summoning a single six-sided die from thin air, “If you win, the boy will come with you quietly, and you can have the puzzle. No questions asked, without a fight. If I win, you leave and never come back.” Light suddenly shone down, revealing a hopscotch path, fifteen boxes long.

“What makes you think we’ll play your stupid game? What’s going to stop us from just rushing up, tackling you to the ground, and MAKING you give us what we want?” he inquired further with a growl. Will, however, eyed the new pony with caution, feeling something fundamentally off about everything.

“A penalty.” Atem stated flatly.

“A penalty? What’re you going to do? Flail around with that bundle of twigs you call a frame at me?” he laughed mockingly, before he started galloping towards the host

“Way, Stop!”

But it was too late. Before Way could even get halfway towards him, Atem stomped his hoof once, clicking his tongue in disappointment and annoyance. Suddenly, the floor disappeared without warning, Way began to lose his balance, and fell screaming into the abyss.

“WAY WORD!!!” Will shouted, rushing and crouching to the edge, watching as his accomplice disappeared into the true darkness below. He suddenly felt a shiver run up his back as he just as quickly could no longer see him, right before the space in front of him where the ground had disappeared became solid again.

“I’m afraid Way will be suffering a penalty and won’t be playing the shadow game. Now... Will, was it? You can either play my game, or leave. The choice is yours, but I STRONGLY suggest you avoid repeating what your friend did. You REALLY don’t want what he’s going through now.”

Will gritted his teeth as he weighed his options. While the whole situation was beginning to scare him, his job’s success took more precedent, and failure scared him more than what ever happened to Way. “Fine. I’ll play.”

“Excellent,” Atem said, clacking his hooves together, as he tossed the die in Will’s direction. It bounced one, two, three, four times before it rolled the rest of the way to Will’s hooves. “The rules are very simple. All you have to do is reach me. You roll the die, and you hop that many squares towards me. You get three rolls.”

Will counted the number of spaces, before looking back to the die. “I just need to roll a total of fifteen?”

“All you have to do is reach me. You get three rolls.”

“Alright,” Will said, as he jiggled the die in the air and rolled it down the hopscotch path. When it came to a stop, it landed on a one. Will’s face fell, realizing that his entire attempt was shot. “A... a one...”

“Ooooh, that’s gotta sting. With a one, even rolling two sixes in a row wouldn’t get you enough spaces.” Atem pawed at his chin for a moment, before flicking his tangelo mane with the gold strand to the side, giving a wry smile. “Tell you what. I’m a good sport. I’ll say that one is a freebee. You still have three rolls. Make them count, now.”

Will’s heart skipped a beat, realizing he was given a second chance. He could still finish the job, get paid, and live in some peace and harmony for once. Sorry, Way, he thought, I’ll toast to you if I don’t see you again. He picked up the die once again and jiggled it in the air for a moment. Closing his eyes tight, he prayed hard for a high enough roll, before he let the little cube fly. It hit the ground with a clack and tumbled down the path, landing on a six. Will split an ear-to-ear grin as he laughed at the luck. Seven. I’ve got seven, now! If I can at least get a total of eight, I’m golden!

“Lucky throw,” Atem cheered. “Two more rolls. Can you get another six?”

Will picked up the die again and jumbled it about before setting it free. It rolled to a stop and landed on a three.

“Ouch, that’s not the best roll there, but you can still make it on your next roll!”

A three, Will thought, split between being elated that he’s so close to winning and terrified of having a low roll. Gambling wasn’t something he dabbled in much in his life, but he knew of the rush it could give somepony, especially under the right circumstances. He decided to smile, and shoot a glare at his host. “You’re going down! The next roll wins the game. Get ready to fork over the kid and puzzle.”

“I guess we’ll see, won’t we?”

Will rolled the die once more, which stopped about a few paces way from Atem’s hooves. It landed on five.

“YES! YES! A FIVE! I GOT A FIVE! I-”

“Lost. You lost. I’m sorry. Very close though.”

Will paused. “Wh-what? But, I rolled a five! That should be enough to get a total of fifteen!”

“Fifteen? Oh, no, no no no. I never said you needed fifteen paces. I said you needed to reach me, but fifteen is just one space too short.” Atem then stepped to the side, revealing he was standing on the number sixteen.

“Wh.... WHAAAT?!” He screamed, “No! NOOOOO! A SIXTEEN?! YOU CHEATED!!!”

“Oh, on the contrary. In fact, If I remember correctly, I even gave you a slight advantage, being the good sport that I am. I haven’t even  moved since the game began. You simply lost, my friend, and that’s all there is to it.”

“You... YOU...” he growled, gritting his teeth hard. Will suddenly screamed as he attempted to charged the now very short distance between them to take Atem down. Atem, however, stamped his hoof once, and caused the ground below him to rise up. Before he even realized what had happened, Will slammed his face against the rock wall that was now where his quarry was, and slid back down painfully. Rising back to his hooves wearily, he shook his head and rubbed his face, trying to push away the pain.

“Can’t handle the loss, can you? Well, for the attempt on me, I’m afraid I have no choice.” He then clicked his hooves together and flared his horn. “Time for a Penalty Game!”

“Penalty game?” Will uttered, before he heard the sound of ground give way. He spun around quickly, only to witness exactly what he heard. The solid ground all around the area aside from the numbered spaces disappeared, as the numbered spaces themselves began to shake before falling, one by one, starting from the first one. The color drained from his face as, in a panic, he flung himself back to the risen space and tried to climb, only able to get a few inches off the ground and then pathetically slide back down. Before he could even attempt it again, the ground below him gave way, and he suddenly dropped. As he fell, he watched Atem look over the side, staring directly at him. The light above him put him in a silhouette, but something was wrong. From the silhouette, he could see two glowing eyes, with the symbol of a third eye in a rainbow of colors shining where his horn should be.

As Will fell into the true darkness below, he could hear the sound of sinister, mocking laughter ring all around him, suffocating his very being. “I’d say, where there’s a Will, there’s a Way, but neither of you really had it in you. Oh well, have a nice trip. See you next fall!” Then, everything went black.
> Games
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Button! Where are you? Button!? BUTTON!?” Twilight called out frantically. It had been a mess of a morning. She was quite rudely woken up by the returning troop of Royal Guards that were investigating the incident last night, only for them to inform her of a secondary matter had cropped up beneath her snout. Much to her eternal chagrin, the Castle of Friendship, her own HOME, had been broken into as evidenced by the damaged lock on the front door and the common room she had let Button Mash stay in. Worse, Button was missing from said room, which put the former student of Celestia into full panic mode. As she ran from room to room, frantically looking for the young stallion-to-be, she did take solace in the fact that the perpetrators of the trespass had been very quickly caught. However, the circumstance of their capture was quite... alarming. 

It was then she came to the Cutie Map Room and, upon slamming the doors open, found the little Button Mash sleeping rather peacefully upon the unlit map’s surface, his bag of stuff tucked under his barrel and clutched by his hooves. He coiled against himself involuntarily from the sudden explosion of morning light pouring in from the door frame, but remained mostly asleep. Twilight breathed a sigh of relief as she slowly and silently approached her ward at the time, noting that he seemed to be alright. I’m just glad they didn’t try to take him, she thought solemnly. Her thoughts briefly thought back to what one of the guards told her, chills running up her back from what she was told. They were apparently found in the middle of town, huddled together and screaming incoherent nonsense. Was there really that much screaming? She shook her head, dispelling the imagery, and focused her attention on her unfortunate guest.

“Button?” she gently whispered, trying to coax him out of his sleep. The boy stirred for a moment, groaning in protest before blearily raising his head and gazing back at Twilight with the groggiest eyes. “Good morning. You weren’t in the room I left you in last night, and I got worried. Are you alright?”

“Uuuuuuuuuuugh,” he moaned in discomfort, “do I really need to go to school, mom?”

Twilight was taken aback by the sleepy comment, mixing feelings of slight embarrassment for the accidental parental title and sadness for Button’s situation. “I’m not-” she started, before deciding to take on a different approach, trying to stay as gentle with the poor boy as possible. “Not today, you don’t. You can go back to sleep if you want. I’ll come get you when breakfast is ready.”

“Oh... ok...” With that, his head lowered back down as he curled up once again, still clutching his bag.

She debated for a moment on whether or not this was a good idea, but decided that he had enough disturbing him, and a few more moments in dreamland might ease his heart a bit more. She then backed out of the room, and closed the doors just enough to darken the room but leave a little light to seep in.

Button himself slept soundly, forgetting the intrusion on his rest and easily returned to the realm he had dived deep inside. A world of wonderful adventure where he was a brave hero, righting wrongs and saving others from danger. With a trusty sword at hoof, glittering in the light of the daylight, he swung with expert care and definitive power that none could contest. He would find the villains of the world and slay them in the name of justice. Before he would march forth in conviction, however, the once lush landscape around him was suddenly bathed in a great red fire, as shadowy figures loomed from behind the flickering flames. They stood tall in darkness, with only their sinister smiles somehow cutting through the silhouette to terrify the boy, imposing a truly evil visage. He could then hear a scream, one from a voice so very familiar to him. “MOM!” he cried out, eyes tearing up.

Then, there was a sudden gust of wind, forcing him to cover his eyes as the shadows and flames dissipated all around the colt. All that was left behind was a charred land, sand, and a clear hot sky. Then, Button heard the sound of what seemed to be a pebble skipping along the road he was walking along. Only, it wasn’t actually a pebble when he managed to get a look at it, but a single die. Button raised an eyebrow in confusion, as he watched it bounce lower and lower before rolling to a stop at his hoof. It stopped at a two, giving the wanna-be-hero the strangest of chills. He then looked up to a burnt tree nearby, and noticed a shadowy figure just behind the charred remains. He could feel the shadow smile within the shade, as flaming white eyes glared at him.

He panicked, taking a step back in fear, before he spun around, ready to high-tail it out of there. However, as soon as he turned around, he came face to face with the silhouette that was just behind the tree, now with the sun’s light casting him in the shadow rather than just the shade of a tree-trunk. He fell back from the surprise. It was then that a different, third eye opened at what he could only guess was the figures forehead and stare directly at him. For the second time in his life, not even a day after that traumatic event he hoped to escape through his dreams, he felt truly helpless and terrified.


=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=


Button woke up with a start in the dark, kicking his bag away from him from the sudden jump. He had just barely managed to hold back a harrowing scream as tears threatened to stream down his face and his heart pounded like a thundering drum in an extreme rock concert. He took a moment, catching his breath as best as he could, trying to control himself until he began to feel calmer.

“Just a dream, just a dream, just a dream,” he chanted, trying to collect himself, pawing at his body. It was then that his hoof touched the completed puzzle that hung around his neck from a string. He looked down at it, only just able to see a part of its outline shimmer from the sliver of light that was allowed in. It glittered a lovely gold, giving him a sense of calm he couldn’t reach on his own. It was then that he realized the string that allowed it to hang from his neck wasn’t something he put on it. Where did that come from.

Sorry, but I could not have you losing it after your efforts. It would be such a waste.

Button shot up on all fours, looking around frantically in the dark and swiveling his ears. He then turned to the light, used it to see where the table ended, leaped off the edge, and galloped to the doors. Once he reached them, he whipped them open and bathed the room in light, showing off every beautiful detail, nook, and cranny. Not a soul was in sight.

“I’m... just imagining things.”

I hate to disappoint, but you are not imagining anything.

Button’s blood went cold as he gazed about the room, even looked behind himself, trying to find the somepony or something that is talking to him. Then, for whatever reason, his gaze was drawn to the puzzle that gently rocked against his chest, twisting and untwisting the string as it remained hung from his neck. He then brought one hoof up and pushed it up to eye level, gazing at its own center eye.

May I help you, Button?

“AHHH!!” He then ripped the puzzle and its string from his neck, and threw it into the room out of panic as it bounced a bit, hitting one of the chairs and rolled back a little, resting at the side, eye still facing him. He stared at it for a moment, frozen stiff, not entirely believing what was going.

Oh, you better believe it. By the by, that was quite rude, throwing me like that. You could have smashed the puzzle!

“Wh-wh...” is all he could mutter before he swallowed hard. “Where are you?”

Down here, where you threw me.

His gaze was drawn down to the puzzle. He stared at it long and hard for a moment, before the voice returned.

Good, now that you see me: Pick me back up, tie me back around your neck, and let us trot off to Canterlot.

“Wh-... What?”

Come on, we don’t have much time to lolly-gag. I have a few... personal matters to sort, and I need your help.

Button then just sat down, stunned and utterly flabbergasted. The gold puzzle he put together, the seemingly inanimate object, was talking to him. He was either in another dream, or he had lost his mind. At least, that’s what he thought.

I know what you are thinking, and no, this is no dream, and your head is still safe and sound.

There was a pregnant pause, as if the voice was waiting for a response.

Would it help if I introduce myself? Perhaps that would at least cut the tension... Button Mash, at your most esteemed service for the time being, my name is Atem Gah’mes, spirit of the Millennium Puzzle. 

“Millennium... Puzzle?” Button parroted.

Yes. As in, a very ancient, very delicate, rare, valuable, stunning, beautiful, charming... uh, ahem, prized artifact housing my spirit. For who so ever solves the Millennium Puzzle shall be granted its untold powers... and so on and so forth.

Button stared at it for a moment. “You... you were...”

Yes. Passed down through generations of thick headed dreamers after my last true owner dismantled-

“You were that voice that claimed to be my fairy godfather.”

... Excuse me?

“Yeah, when I was hiding, I heard a voice, saying it was my fairy godfather, and that it would make the nightmares go away! You were that voice, weren’t you?!”

Oh, right... that. Listen, I may have-

“Please, just tell me, do you know what happened to my mom?”

There was an awkward silence for a moment, as Button stared at the innocently glittering puzzle that sat motionless against the cold, hard crystal floor.

“... Is she... d...dea...”

Button could hear a sigh, kicking him out of the grim conclusion he was about to draw for himself.

No.

“Wh... what?”

Well, not really, at least. To those fools, she will most certainly only look dead at first glance. I’m sure, when they look closer, they shall sing a different tune.

“She’s alive?!”

Well, uh, not really...

“Wha-?”

The one’s responsible for this mess, including the two that tried to foalnap you last night, they have the rest of her.

“The rest of her?”

I was still in pieces at the time, but I could feel a very distinct type of magic being cast. An ancient, cursed spell that draws the souls from their bodies, leaving a barely living empty shell.

“N-no...”

All isn’t lost. What was stolen can be returned, Button. Her soul is in their hands, and we can get it back. But, we have to hurry. We only have ninety days from the initial reaving. Eighty nine now, if we want to err on the side of caution.

“We can... get her back?”

Yes. We can save your mother, Button. However, we must act fast. And the first thing we must do is go to Canterlot.

Button was shocked. Not only was his mother not deceased like he thought, but he could bring her all the way back. He could have his life again. There was, however, one issue.

“I... don’t know if I’m cut out for something like this.”

... Excuse me?

“I’m not some brave adventurer. I mean, sure, I play plenty of video and table-top games that let me do that, but that’s a game and this is real life. I’m just a kid. I don’t even have my cutie mark, or emblem, or whatever other stallions call it these days.” He gave a sigh. “I think I should just give you to Twilight and let her handle it, or something. She’s used to saving other ponies.”

That isn’t going to work, Button.

“What?”

For who so ever solves the Millennium Puzzle shall be granted its untold powers. Did I not just say that?

“I think so, but-”

Those rules are rather iron clad. Only those that are capable of solve the puzzle are granted its power and my guidance.

“But, Twilight is an Alicorn Princess. I think she would have been easily able to solve you just by thinking about it. If she needs to just solve you, I could take you apart right now and-”

Not going to work.

“What do you mean?”

As long as you’re alive and I’ve not managed to accomplish my unfinished business, we’re stuck together. As in, either I succeed in my business, or you die. 

Button’s spirit fell as he heard the last word ring through his mind. He either goes on this adventure, probably get himself into stupidly serious trouble for his actions, among other things, in order to possibly save his mom, or stay home, let his mother wither away, and be stuck with a voice in his head for the rest of his miserable years.

“Can’t we just tell Twilight? She might be able to track him down and stop him.”

It won’t work either. HE has many eyes around the land. The two that tried to take you were just a small fraction of his many pawns. Some of them are not as overt as they were. Even if you get Twilight involved, there is no telling what he’d do to flip the situation.

“Who’s HE?” Button questioned.

It is quite the long story. Allow me to just say this started before my puzzle was found by Golden Trail.

“Wait, my great grandfather?”

The very same. Poor twit almost died due to his nature. It was such a good stroke of fortune that he managed to get to me before he was removed from the scene permanently. I’d say he owes me his life, but that’s long past... There was then a lengthy silence, before a low chuckle could be heard. I mean, on technicality, we could also say that you wouldn’t be around either if it wasn’t for my intervention. Really, you owe me too.

“Th-That’s not fair!”

It isn’t. Be thankful that I don’t need it as much as I need you to go off on this brave adventure for me. You manage to help me do this task, not only will I help you get your mother back, but I’ll let you off the hook of your debt to me.

“You’re a jerk.”

Never said I wasn’t.

The sound of hooves cantering up to the chamber doors could be heard just before said doors were slowly pushed open. Standing there at the frame was Twilight, who held a warm and friendly smile. “Button,” she announced, “Breakfast is ready. Are you going to come down and eat?”

Button stood in contemplation for a moment. The voice, Atem, remained silent, leaving him to decide for himself. Then, his belly grumbled irately. “Yeah, sure, I’ll be down.”

“Great. You know where the dining room is?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

“Alright, but if you get lost, there’s a map in the front.”

“Thanks.”

With that, Twilight left without another word. Button, alone once again, heard the intrusive voice pipe up once more.

I suppose that was Twilight?

“Yeah,” Button replied.

I can understand why you have so much faith in her abilities. I can definitely feel a strong power within her. Still, I strongly suggest we do this ourselves. Despite her strength, her assistance won’t amount to very much with what I’ve told you.

“I’m still not sure about this.”

Well, you have all day to think it over. Tonight, we shall board the train!

“I don’t have money for tickets!”

We won’t need them. We’ll board the midnight train, and once we’re close enough, we’ll walk the rest of the way to Canterlot.

“Wait, WHY?!”

We don’t want to answer a bunch of questions if we arrive via train. It’ll be far too much of a hassle.

“This sounds like a really bad idea. I’m just a kid!”

Think it over. I promise, though, we WILL get your mother back. You just have to take this first step.

Button grimaced. He felt like he was just being used, especially with the prospect of saving his mom being dangled before him. However, considering he was almost foalnapped until the haunted puzzle saved his flank through mysterious means, he had a bit more reason to trust it. 

His stomach rumbled again.

“Breakfast first.” With that decided, Button left the chamber and sought out the smell of pancakes.


=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=


Midnight approached as the sleepy citizens of the little town cast themselves into the beautiful sea of dreams to forget their troubles for the day. However, not all had departed to slumberland, as a few Royal Guards stood vigilantly around the town, acting as steadfast vanguards until the recent troubles proved to finally be over. Such a prospect tended to take months of occupational assurance before they could be recalled, but no one seemed to mind too much. A fair number of them stood near Twilight’s Castle, aiming to make sure the events of last night wouldn’t repeat themselves again. While the intention was out of safety for the castle’s monarch and the few residents that dwelt within, it certainly presented itself as a detriment to a little form that peeked out of one of the windows. Surveying the ground level, doing his best to remain out of sight otherwise, Button did what he could to find a blind spot in their patrols.

Honestly, this ended up being a fair bit harder than it seemed. He had looked out through multiple windows (at least those he could get access to) at various different levels of the castle that he could reasonably climb out of. After doing this for the fifteenth time, he finally found his blind spot, but the timing was exceptionally short. Luckily-

I’ll keep an eye out for them... heh, get it? Because, I kinda look like a giant-

“Ugh, it wasn’t funny the first time you said it, why would it be funny the seventh time?” Button groaned in a hushed voice.

You’re no fun.

Button watched as the patrol moved into the position that presented the blind-spot, and upon seeing it, slowly began to lower down a rope made of sheets tied together firmly. As soon as the tail end was close enough to the ground, he fastened his saddle-pack, which now was resupplied with snacks and an assortment of stationary upon Atem’s request, climbed out of the window, and carefully shimmied his way down. It didn’t take him long to reach the bottom, and before he took off into the darkness of the night, he tied a rock to the tail of the rope and pitched it back through the open window. The throw was solid enough that it went through and took most of the sheet rope with it, leaving only a little bit dangling from the window’s sill.

Clever.

“They might find out I’m gone anyway, but at least this won’t make it immediately apparent,” Button reasoned in a whisper. He felt in his heart that this whole stunt was a very bad idea, and he could get into some serious trouble if he ever got caught, but he couldn’t just sit on his hooves and wait for somepony worse to try and get at him, not if he could still rescue his mother, if the puzzle spirit was telling the truth.

With that, after waiting for another blind spot, Button bolted into the darkness and headed for the train-yard. It didn’t take him long to reach it, and sure enough, the midnight train was already making its final preparations. Steeling himself for the chance to board, he waited in the shadows until it was ready to move, before he jumped into the most suitable boxcar he could find. All boxcars that were currently part of the midnight train had supplies in them, but very few of them actually had more empty space than supply and merchandise crates, usually to act as a precautionary measure for when they need room for any pickups along the scheduled line. The harsh darkness cast by the solid wood frames and the brilliant moon made it hard to see exactly what sat in the car, but it also made it easy for one to hide in if they needed to. Button, thankfully, was able to select one of the more vacant boxcars the first time around out of a sheer stroke of luck. With that, he settled in to his temporary lodgings for the path forward.

Slowly and surely, the train pulled out of Ponyville and began the journey to Canterlot. Thankfully, the ride was only supposed to be a few hours long, so it’d be a relatively short trip. Button had made sure to have a decent nap before this escapade, just so he wouldn’t make any mistakes while attempting something so foolish as escaping the castle unseen and illegally boarding a midnight train. However, this meant he would be wide awake for the time being. He gave a listless sigh, pulled off his saddle-pack, took the orb off of his neck and set it to his other side, and decided to pull his JoyboyTM from its resting place. Turning it on, he slumped back into some hay that laid haphazardly on the car’s floor.

So, you enjoy games?

Button ignored the spirit, trying to concentrate on his game. It was one of his recent favorites: Curse of the Moon. An action platformer about a young stallion armed only with a whip that had come to stop the evil Nightmare Moon from bringing forth an eternal night to the land while battling her army of darkness that guarded her castle halls. While the story was based off of the legend which had long since turned out to be a little closer to fact with a bit more of a happy ending in the end, making the original inspiration seem a bit outdated, the core idea of a mad magical monarch obsessed with jealousy and revenge over a world that shunned her wasn’t at all something that could be discarded. It still left room for expansion and intrigue, if done right, and the gameplay itself could lead to interesting twists and improvements.

How good are you at playing this one?

Button ignored it once again. It was odd, really, as any other pony showing interest in what he was doing would immediately have him describe the game and how much he knows about it before it would throw him into a full on speech about how much he loves his hobby by the end of it. However, after the recent events that had weighed heavily on his soul and this dark feeling he had that told him not to get too close to the strange spirit that lived in his puzzle, all he wanted to do right now was just try to forget the traumas and feelings by losing himself in the game. Problem was, every time he would get close to doing so-

Do you know of any games that require a second player in a competitive nature? I’d certainly be happy to fill in that role. It has been ages since I’ve done that for fun. Maybe we can make a little bet of it to make it more exciting!?

Button groaned and furrowed his brow a bit more, staring harder at the screen of his JoyboyTM as he whipped zombies, ghosts, and demons in the face with expert positioning and timing in a world he knew full well he could win against. It was a small fact that held a sense of comfort that he could rely on when the world seemed too tough. Now, more than ever, especially in these uncertain and critically risky times, did he need that little bit of his world. If only to give him some reprieve.

We aren’t alone.

The little colt raised an eyebrow to this and looked about. His eyes strained after watching the bright screen for so long, and because of it, he couldn’t see anyone in the shadows. With a growl of frustration, all he did was inwardly curse that the spirit was distracting him so much from his game. Atem repeated himself, further asking if he heard him, which caused Button to finally speak.

“I wish you would quit botherin’ me.”

“Whassat, you little rat?!” a rather scratchy, rather grouchy voice called out from the shadows.

Button gasped, dropping his JoyboyTM in the hay, completely caught off guard from the fact that there was indeed someone else in the boxcar.

“I uh... I didn’t mean-” Button stammered.

“Stupid kid, in MY cart, of all things. Ya better git out before I batter you senseless and kick you out m’self,” he said, slowly entering the moonlight. He was a relatively large stallion, awash in a dark brown and splotched tan coat, with a stringy black mane, unkempt scruff upon his chin, and obvious discoloration in one eye.

A vagrant claiming ownership of a public train car. I’ve seen worse, honestly.

“Would you shut up?!”

“Badmouthin’ me, eh?” the vagrant pony spat, “I’ll teach you a thing or-” He noticed the open saddle-pack, and saw the snacks and games tucked away inside. “Tell ya what, kid. If ya give me that saddle-pack of yours, I won’t beat you up before I toss ya out, heh heh heh.”

“I-I... I need this,” he whimpered, now grabbing his pack and pulling it close to him. “I-I-I’m just g-going to Canterlot. I’ll g-get off before we get there. P-please, just, let me ride the car until then.”

“I ain’t playin’ around, kid. Gimme the pack!”

Button, let me take over.

“No!” Button shouted, clutching his bag tighter.

“You little-!” It was then the train hobo swiftly encroached upon button, pushed him down hard with one hoof, and pinned him. “I’ll teach you!” With that, he lifted the colt up, and threw him against the wooden wall, causing a loud CLACK to ring out and the poor child’s own cry of pain to escape him. He then fell back down into the pile of hay, causing it to kick up everywhere and soon bury Button as it settled back to the car’s floor. “Eh, stupid kid... lessee what he’s got.”

Oh, you useless, stubborn thing. You don’t have much of a choice now, do you? Well, neither do I...

“I... I...” was all Button could utter as the considerable amount of pain was too much for the boy. The last thing he could see was his puzzle start to give off a dull, golden glow. Soon after, It was then that suddenly everything went dark.

“Eh, bloody train tunnels...” the train hobo grumbled. The sound of rushing wind could soon be heard as a sense of vertigo consumed the vagrant for a moment, making it feel like he was tripping over himself from a sudden shift. “What in Tartarus?”

“You know, it’s not exactly nice to hurt a child, let alone steal from one...”

All at once, the moon’s light finally returned, and the stallion realized he was now on the roof of his boxcar, hooves still digging through the little colt’s belongings. Looking about, he soon saw a young, lanky unicorn with a similar color scheme as the kid he tossed about, with the exception of the odd golden bangs. Eyes as intense as the sun gazed back at the vagrant while a smile that could chill the bones of a killer manticore was split across his face.

“Who... who are you?” the train car hobo managed to utter at first, “What do you want?”

“What do I want? Why, to play a game, of course. I’ve been dying to do so after my last, rather disappointing one.”

“A game, eh?” he replied. “Not interested.” He breathed a sigh of relief after he looked over the new pony once again. Despite the intense eyes and maniacal smile, his form didn’t seem too threatening or powerful. If anything, he could give the stupid unicorn a solid right hook and tear his head off in the process if he wanted.

“Are you sure? Not even if I gave you something if you won?”

“Just robbed a kid of his food and junk that I could probably sell fer a quick few bits. I don’t really need anything else.”

“Not even this?” he said, holding up the little golden puzzle orb with a free hoof. “This is one hundred percent pure gold. Play my game, win, and I’ll give it to you.”

He stared at the golden treasure for a moment. A little prize like that could send him to Las Pegasus for a month. He drooled at the prospect and possibilities, but snapped back to the current reality to consider his next move. Just wants to play a game, eh? “Fine, I’ll give it a go, but I get to pick the game we play!” he bellowed.

“That is quite alright by me. So, what do you suggest?”

“Blackjack. Best of five hands,” he declared with confidence.

“A classic. Excellent. Switching dealers every round?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he waived. Truth be told, he’d prefer to remain as dealer, so he could control the flow of the game, but he felt extra confident tonight.

“Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Atem.” He then approached his opponent slowly with a confident stride, before sitting down before him.

“We gonna play or not?” the vagrant grumbled as he too sat down and pulled a deck of cards from his tail.

“Before we do,” Atem started, “Shall we make the game a bit more... interesting?”

“Ya already promised me that purdy gold trinket if I win. What else you wanna give me? You’re life?” He then began laughing at the dark bit of sarcasm.

“Heh heh, indeed. What I suggest is we add an extra rule, considering where we are.”

“Eh?”

“The next tunnel will be approaching us soon. I don’t know exactly when, but that’s not important. What IS important is that it gives us a golden opportunity to play chicken.”

“Chicken, really?”

“Certainly. If we don’t manage to complete our best of five round game before we reach the tunnel, the last to duck it and keep their head is the winner.”

“WHAT? That’s crazy!”

“But isn’t it exciting!?”

The vagrant thought about it for a moment. He knew he was good at card games, especially games like poker, because he knew himself and how hot tempered he was regardless of the situation, and how he could use such introspective knowledge to throw off his opponents. He’s won many-a-game against others, stealing the last of their bits and leaving them in the dust because of it. Then again, that was years ago, long before the return of the Moon Princess. Truth be told, the extra rule did seem somewhat enticing, and considering his opponent was sitting a little further up, he would have to duck the tunnel first regardless. For all intents and purposes, even though he hasn’t played for such high stakes in years, he had the advantage on this twerp.

“Fine, I’ll bite. Let’s play chicken too. Yer funeral, though.” Really, what was honestly more concerning was that the lanky unicorn would even suggest it. Playing such a dangerous game, even for a seemingly cheap thrill, just creeped him out more than anything. He hazarded a glance at Atem’s eyes, and noticed this strange presence behind them. On the one hand, the eyes themselves seemed almost innocent, like a child’s. However, the way they seemed to stare back had this inherent madness about them. He’d need to keep his wits about him if he wanted to win.

“Cut to determine first dealer, highest number wins. Aces both high and low.” Atem stated, “Then, we can start.”

“Yeah, yeah, hold yer fetlocks, kid.” The vagrant took the deck of cards and began to shuffle. That’s weird, he thought, why’s the wind not blowin’ em away? And, why can’t I hear the wind? ... eh, whatever. After shuffling to satisfaction, he took half of the deck, and turned it over to reveal the card on the bottom of what he had. It was a nine, which was a reasonably high number. Atem drew an Ace. “Gugh...”

“I guess I’ll be second to deal.”

“Wait, what?”

“Aces are both high and low. So, I have the choice to deal first or second. I choose second.”

The unkempt stallion stared at him for a moment, before shaking his head. “Fine, I guess I’ll start.” He collected the cards and gave them a good shuffle, keeping in mind the subtle sensations of the shape of the cards. They were old and beaten, but familiar to him. He knew thirteen of the cards in the deck due to very slight deformities, and decided to test to see if he remembered which ones were which. After he was satisfied, he began to deal, one at a time, back and forth, until he and Atem had two cards. I knew it, he thought as he noticed he had a six of spades and four of hearts, and his opponent had a two of clubs paired with a three of diamonds. He felt that six and two, and was more than happy to realize he shuffled correctly and gave himself the starter advantage.

“Hit,” Atem declared.

A card was then placed down. A five of hearts, totaling in ten.

“Hit”

Another five, this time it was for clubs. He had fifteen now.

“Hit”

The next card wasn’t a ‘marked’ card, so he had no idea what he’d be getting. He looked to Atem and gave a wry smile. “Little bit risky there, eh? Sure you don’t want to rest on this for now?”

“I won’t mind taking the gamble for the time being.”

The card drawn was a four, totaling nineteen.

“Stay.”

“You’re pretty lucky that weren’t a seven ‘r somethin’,” he chuckled with fake, chivalrous concern while he shuffled the cards. He could feel some of the deformed cards settle in new places, with one sitting on top. He had ten points, and if his memory was correct, either the top card was either a ten or a nine. Drawing the card, he revealed a ten. “Guess I win round one.”

“Congratulations. Two more, and you get the the prize.” Atem claimed with a grin, showing off the puzzle sphere again.

To the homeless pony, there was something off about that cocksure smile he held, but he couldn’t quite pin what it was. Never-the-less, the cards were collected, and round two started as he passed the deck over to him. 

“Hmmm,” Atem started, “These are certainly well worn.” He then began shuffling them by hoof with the expertise of a seasoned card player.

“Had ‘em fer as long as I could remember.” He watched his opponent shuffle his cards very carefully. “Heh, you’re pretty good at that.” He then looked up at his horn, and noticed no glow. “Kinda funny you ain’t usin’ magic to shuffle ‘em, though.”

“I like to get a good feel for the deck at least once a game.” He riffles the cards before going into a bridge, making rapid fire ‘thwaping’ sounds, “Every worn deck has a story to tell; A history.” He performs a kenshi shuffle, “Wins, losses, close calls... accusations and cheats.” He ends with an over hoof shuffle before planting the deck between himself and the owner of the cards. “A lot can be told by the deck of a seasoned gambler... you are a seasoned gambler, correct?”

“What’chya gettin’ at?”

“Nothing, really. I’ve already said these cards are worn, and am only really curious if gambling was the reason. Though,” he started with a slightly puzzled look, “There seems to be a fair few cards in the deck that are a little more beaten than the rest. It certainly happens after years of play with the same set, no doubt, as the luck of the draw and circumstances sees that a card is much more used and abused than the others. Have you noticed?”

The vagrant crossed his forelegs with a scowl, “No. I haven’t.”

“Really? It’d be a good way to keep track of the deck without predicting the probability of the next drawn card.”

“Just deal,” he said with a sneer, starting to get a little annoyed and agitated.

“As you wish.” Atem quickly dealt out the cards, two for each of them, and waited, watching as his opponent turned up his own hand.

“Ain’t ya gonna look at the hand ya got?”

“Oh no, I don’t need to yet.”

He leered at his opponent for a moment before returning his gaze back to the cards. It was a nine of clubs and a four of hearts. He looked back at the deck and noticed the next card was a bit on the rough side.

“Hit.” It aughta be a six, he thought. Atem deals him the new card, and sure enough, it was a six. He gave a smirk, then thought about his options. He has no clue as to what cards the lanky unicorn had currently. He glanced at the deck his opponent had his hoof on, and noticed the shape of the next card to be drawn. “Stay”

“You sure?” Atem asked, “Nineteen is awfully short changed.”

“Willin’ to take the risk.”

“Very well.” Atem flipped over his own cards, revealing a ten and a five. The train-car hobo choked a bit at how high the base hand was, but calmed down when he remembered the incoming bust will net him the win. Sure enough, Atem pulled a seven, pushing him over the edge.

“Oh, tough break there, pardner.”

“Indeed. I’ve taken the risk, and lost.” Atem chuckled. 

The vagrant raised his eyebrow and leered at the unicorn. “You seem rather cheerful, there.”

“To be fair, it’s customary for the dealer to draw a card if their hand is already below their opponent’s total.” He gathered the cards, re-shuffled them, and handed them back to the owner. “Besides, doesn’t this make it much more exciting? You are at the cusp of victory, while I’m at the edge of defeat.”

With eyes narrowing, he slowly reclaimed his cards and began to shuffle them. What is this kid’s DEAL? He acts like he’s the one about to win, and he’s still in the hole. He looked him over for a moment. Maybe he’s hiding somethin’. Maybe he’s actually cheating, and I just can’t see it. Furiously and rhythmically shuffling, he continued his train of thought before stepping back to the obvious. Nah, it couldn’t be. I’ve been watchin’ him quite close. He’s lost both hands. There’s no way he’s cheating. I mean, even if he were, he’s doin’ quite a terrible job at it. After arriving to the conclusion, he dealt out the necessary cards, and planted the deck.

Atem checked his hand for a moment before flipping it over. It was a ten and a two. “Hit.” The next card was an seven, making the total nineteen. The box car hobo winced. “Stay.”

Grumbling, he checked his own cards and discovered he had a five and a seven. He had some wiggle room for sure, but it would be hard to beat the hand before him. Pawing at his deck, he couldn’t feel a familiar card, so the next one to draw would be blind luck. He clicked his tongue, held his breath, and drew. It was a ten. “Dang.”

“That was a close one.”

“Shut it,” he snapped, before pushing the cards back to Atem. My fault for gettin’ cocky, but I’ve got two more chances to win this. The unicorn gathered the cards, and began to shuffle, but this time used his magic. “Hey, I thought you were gonna stick to shufflin’ by hoof?”

“I shuffle by hoof to get a feel for the cards. Remember that I said I do it at least once? I never said anything about sticking to that method.” With his magic, Atem started by performing a riffle with a cascade, before flipping them upside down, float the deck above both of their heads, spread and mix them up as if performing a corgi shuffle, push them back into a deck neatly, before pulling it back down and right-side up and doing one last cut, putting the bottom half on the top. “Besides, I get to have a bit more fun with magic than with just my hooves. Better dexterity.”

“Just draw.”

He sighed, “As you wish.” Atem then drew the necessary cards and planted the deck. The vagrant flipped his cards, coming up with a natural nineteen. 

“Looks like I might win this one. I’ll stay,” he said with a wry smile.

Atem flipped his cards, gaining a two and a three. “Oh well, you gotta work with what you got, I suppose.”

“Good luck,” he chuckled. It’s in the bag. Atem then drew a four, making it nine. Alright. Next better bust. Atem drew a five. No... No, it can’t be. Bust dangit! Atem then drew a six.

“That’s twenty. I win this round.”

The box car hobo seethed, glaring at Atem with utter contempt. How could this unicorn get such a lucky draw?

“Dangit. GIMME THAT!” He shouted as he snatched the cards and deck from Atem and began to furiously shuffle. I’ll fix you, you dad-gum kid. He then dealt out the cards and slammed the deck between him. Looking down, he noticed that the two cards that he’d get were relatively high level. With a knowing smile he dealt out the required cards, and eyed his opponent. His grin soon began to wilt as Atem sat there saying nothing. “Well, ain’t you gonna look at what you got?”

“I think I’m good this time. It’ll be more exciting for me to see what you have first.”

“FINE!” He growled with impatience, before he then flipped his cards and sure enough, he got a natural twenty from a princess and a queen he knew he dealt himself. “HAH! Now, show me yer losin’ hand!”

Atem laughs once, before flipping his hand over, causing the vagrant’s face to fall in shock. It was a natural blackjack, with an Ace and Jack of Spades. “Looks like I win. And that’s game.” Atem’s horn flared, returned his cards to the deck, and attempted to reclaim the bag. The hobo then suddenly stood up and grabbed the bag, yanking it back. However, Atem’s magical grip was surprisingly strong, so the aggressive pony’s attempt failed quite immediately as the bag returned to the winner’s side.

“NO! You bloody kid, I shoulda won that!”

“Because you dealt yourself a winning hand? Or, because you thought you dealt me a bum hand.”

The temperamental hobo sputtered at the implied accusations. “Sh-SHUT UP! You can’t prove nothin’! Now, gimme that bag!”	

“How about we play one more game. I’m feelin’ generous,” the unicorn smiles as his eyes seemed to light up with sinister glee. “All we have to do is draw a single card higher than their opponent. Winner take all.” Atem gripped the cards with his magic, and shuffled them between himself and his foe. “Just one card.”

“Just one card, eh?” 

“I’m a colt of my word. You’ll get exactly what you deserve.” The drifter pony reached forth towards the floating deck and grabbed a card, just as Atem grabbed his own. Atem smiled. “I hope you can match this,” he declared, as he flipped it towards his opponent, showing off an Ace of clubs, “Otherwise, you lose. And remember. Pay attention.”

Card still face down in the flat of his hooves, the hobo slowly turned it over, only to be met with a two.

“Game over.”

Something inside the vagrant pony snapped as he suddenly chucked the card off to the side, and punched away the floating cards in frustration, glaring daggers at the unicorn before him. Atem simply sat and smiled.

“YOU THINK YER BETTER THAN ME!? I’LL KILL YOU IF YOU DON’T GIMME THAT STUFF RIGHT NOW, YOU-”

“Uh oh. Looks like we’re headed for a penalty game.” He then ducked down, covering his head with his hooves.

“Penalty game? I’LL SHOW YOU A PENALTY-” was all he managed to shout just as an incoming tunnel suddenly slammed into his face, taking it and the rest of what it was attached to clean off. Then, everything went black.


=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=


Button woke up with a start. He frantically looked about, eyes still blurry as he slowly came to terms that he was no longer on the train. Further still, he was somewhere soft and cool, underneath a makeshift shelter. Rubbing his eyes, he finally confirmed the former to be true, and realized where he was exactly. Beneath a tree, under a makeshift lean-to constructed from sticks and leaves, seemingly just outside the borders of Canterlot. The sun was just starting to peak over the horizon, signalling the new morning. He checked himself, and found that everything, including his pack full of games and supplies were still there. He gave a sigh of relief, but scratched his head in confusion.

Good morning, Button. Sleep well?

“What happened? How did I end up here?”

You don’t remember?

“I remember getting thrown by that thug, but...” He pawed at a sore spot at the back of his head that was thankfully going away.

Don’t worry about it. That pony most certainly did not have a good head on his shoulders, but he’s gone now, no longer a bother for any of us.

Button relented. He didn’t know what happened after he blacked out, and he honestly didn’t want to know. He was relatively safe and unharmed, near Canterlot, and he still had his things. He went to grab his saddle-pack when he noticed little red dots along the side. “What the-”

We should probably make our way to the city. We’ve got some things to do.

Button’s stomach growled, making the little colt feel just a tad sheepish.

Such as getting you some breakfast. You had a long night, after all, and I know a good place to start our morning.
> Summon
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Wooooooow,” exclaimed the colt as he took another bite from his apple.

Button had never been to the big city before. To be fair, he had also never been outside of Ponyville’s limits beyond the countryside. His mom wasn’t exactly on the rich or well-off end, nor did she have much time or energy to spare for city excursions. Considering that normal train rides took a fair amount of time to actually reach a distant destination such as Canterlot, it was quite understandable in regards to how taxing it could be to a single mother and her child. However, any of those semantics that would normally cloud the mind were promptly shoved into a corner as the childlike wonder and awe took over in the appreciation of the metropolitan majesty.

The city on its own had a very different atmosphere to it than Ponyville ever had. From towering buildings, looming spires, and lengthy streets, to the packed nature of every walkway and the strange indifference of some of the richer-seeming pony folk, it made for a slightly colder, albeit mesmerizing experience for the young lad. Eyes darted about from street corner to building face, right to the various visages of many of the citizens going about their lives. He was quite surprised to learn that there were more welcoming faces out and about compared to the obvious upper-crust of the city’s society. Then again, if there was one thing he learned in school, its that the “rich” made up a very small portion of the total Equestrian populous. 

As he finished off the last bit of his snack, he thought back to his classmates Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon, both of whom that came from wealth and glamour, kinda realizing the statistic stayed true even at home. Sure, Twilight was considered Royalty, but even she had went on record to emphasize her title and position did not reflect her financial or social standing, which was probably one of the reasons why she was very, VERY rarely visited by nobility, the rich, or the famous, save for few exceptions. Considering that, it was interesting for the young boy to see a much denser concentration of these types. Though, said interest didn’t last, as it was more engaging to see the sites of the big city rather than pony-watch.

Oh, oh, oh oh oh. Button, look over there!

Button turned his head to the right, trying to see what the phantom voice was referring too, before he scowled a little.

No no. Over THERE! Right there, on the street lamp!

“Which one?” he asked in annoyance.

The one I’m pointing at!

“Can you even see why what you said makes no sense?”

Atem remained silent for a moment, before he gave a cough.

Fair enough, boy. On the street lamp across the street, there’s a poster advertising the city museum.

Button squinted, and sure enough, he could see a poster with images advertising what seemed to be a historical museum. “Oh, wow, you can see that far away?” Button asked, genuinely impressed.

I am, in all practicality, a giant eyeball. I will notice just about anything long before you do.

“Right.” Button, careful while crossing the street, cantered on up to the street lamp in question, and took a closer look at the poster’s contents. Indeed, it was an ad showing off a recent exhibit being presented at the museum. It was an ancient Neighgyptian presentation, donated with courtesy from the southern lands of Equestria. “Why are you so excited about this?”

Look at the bottom half.

Button obeyed, and to his surprise, the exhibit was featuring artifacts once thought lost, including:

“The Lost Pharaoh, Atem Gah’mes. Wait, that’s-”

They found me! What a joyous day! I hope my remains look as young and vibrant as they once were when I left them.

“’Come and discover the archeological find of the century, as a tomb and its contents were unearthed after being lost for a century due to an... unforeseen accident’?”

Oh, what happened that day was no accident, I assure you, but that doesn’t matter! Make haste, my boy! We have an exhibit to see. My lovely face waits.

“Uhm, if it’s been a century-”

Millennium, actually.

Button grunted in irritation from being interrupted. “Right, if it’s been that long, I doubt-”

You better dare NOT ruin this exuberance for me, lest I inflict a TERRIBLE curse on you.

“And I’ll just trade you in at a comic shop for the new issue of Power Ponies.”

You wouldn’t.

Button knew he wouldn’t do something like that. Apart from the obvious reason of common decency, he also needed Atem to help get his mother back. Furthermore, Button wasn’t a fool, and had a strong feeling that Atem was protecting him when he needed it most. Getting rid of the puzzle with the spirit inside would only invite far more trouble to him than he can handle. That said, he wasn’t above leaving the empty threat before the spirit out of spite. After all, his most unwelcome protector had been nothing but annoying since they started this quest. Thus, the young lad remained silent from that conversation, and instead continued with the prior discussion.

“Will you tell me what we need to do next once I bring you to the museum?”

Well, once we are done site seeing, we need to head to the Canterlot Library of Magic.

“What for?”

To help us find what we need. What else is a library good for?... Not much, else, actually.

“I’m sure Princess Twilight would flip if she heard you say that.”

First, TO THE MUSEUM!

Button rolled his eyes, tossed his apple core into the garbage, and headed down the street, following the directions Atem recited to him.


=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=


NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!

Button sighed in exasperation as he listened to the spirit of the puzzle wail in lament. The phantom waterworks had been going on for nearly twenty minutes, with lots of “Nos”, “Whys” and “It’s not fairs” peppered in between the rather pathetic blubbering. The whole scene made Button wonder if his mom ever felt the same way when he cried in public. It did, however, clue the boy in on a few stipulations in regards to their conversations. For whatever reason, only he could actually hear the spirit inside the puzzle, so arguing with it loudly among folk would get curious and concerned glances his way, which is something he really didn’t need. Furthermore, Atem cannot read his mind, thus he can’t just think about what he wants to say to get his point across, and has to actually converse with him like he’s actually present in the room. His years of gaming told him this could be both very useful and very annoying at the exact same time. The former was being demonstrated in spades.

MY BEAUTIFUL FACE! What has happened to my face! And my physique! Where’s my sculpted barrel?! Ijustdonnowhatwentwrongtheyshouldhavepreservedmebetterthanthi-HIH-HIH-HIIIIIISSSSSS!

Button glanced over to the plaque that the contents of the display, which was an open sarcophagus with a very withered, mummified body laying in the tarnished gold and marble.

“’Atem Gah’mes, Lost Pharaoh of an ancient Neighyptian dynasty in the southern lands lays in a sarcophagus typical of most pharaoh ponies and other royalty, though studies have found that, unlike other specimens, Pharaoh Atem’s mummification process was done hastily. Further study is required before researchers will ever conclude why.’” Button sat for a moment as he finished reading the words inscribed, thinking about it. “That is a little weird, isn’t it?”

Button could hear sniffles as the wailing finally seemed to die out, eventually replaced with a moment of silence. Said moment ended rather swiftly, however.

Those ingrates! For all I had done for them *sniffle*, THIS is how they treat me?! If I could, I would whip the lot of them.

“Ok, whoa, don’t need to say that. Besides. it’s been over a thousand years. They’re all long gone by now. Holding a grudge over it isn’t gonna do anything.” 

Atem sighed deeply, still angry, but obviously starting to calm down. Button then decided to check out the other major attraction to the exhibit. A giant tablet with several indentations where various objects obviously were supposed to reside. “Wait, isn’t this-?”

The Tablet of Osiris. It’s still intact.

“From dad’s story. I never thought I’d get to actually see it.” Button scanned the massive, ancient stone sheet. Embedded in the rock were seven different shaped indentations. Without even thinking, Button grabbed the puzzle, and held it up toward the tablet, gazing at the sphere and the stone back and forth. He then noticed that it seemingly matched one of the indentations. “This is insane.”

And all six of the other Millennium Items are gone. I was afraid of that.

“Millennium Items?” he asked, before recalling further details of the story, “You mean those other golden treasures that were part of this stone slab, right?”

The very same: The Scales. The Rod. The Eye. The Necklace. The Key. The Ring.

“And this would be the Puzzle, correct?”

Correct.

“If I remember right, Dad said in the story that five of them were on the slab, while your puzzle was on the ground, and one was missing. What happened?”

There was silence for a moment, before Atem spoke once again.

I can’t remember. Not much, at least.

“You can’t remember?” Button parroted.

Something happened years ago. Something utterly dreadful. It was as if... your grandfather wasn’t the first one to find my tomb.

“What?” Button blurted in a hushed tone.

I cannot recall who or what showed up. I don’t even remember when. All I can surmise is there was another intruder that resulted in the Puzzle’s displacement, and the Ring going missing. That, and the incident allowed... HIM to get free.

“You’ve mentioned ‘him’ before,” Button stated, “But you never told me who he was. Can I get a name for the villain that took my mother?”

Atem became silent again, and Button suddenly felt a chill down his back, as if he could feel the spirit’s mood shift.

I dare not speak his name again. He is the very reason for my sorry state, and the state of countless poor souls. The lengths we had gone through to contain him were unimaginable in my time, and the fact he’s free but remains in hiding is nothing short of maddening. He takes on many forms in many ways, but one thing is most certain: when the Black Pharaoh walks, misfortune and death follows in his wake.

“That’s... comforting,” Button responded with a hint of sarcasm.

Comfort is not the intention of a warning, foal.

“Hey, you don’t need to call me that just because you’re in a bad mood.”

I wouldn’t be if I wasn’t greeted by a conga line of bad news.

Button rolled his eyes and shook his head. Honestly, he couldn’t really dispute what Atem was feeling. Whatever was going on most certainly was bad news. While he had one of the artifacts draped around his neck, if the story his father told him was true in any way, then the other items were most likely in possession of the goon that took his mother. Considering that the dinky little puzzle had seemingly horrific magical properties, at least as far as he was told, since he seemed to black out right around the time Atem would use said magic, then having six would make an individual have a considerable edge.

Honestly, there is only one bit of good news to this.

“What?”

Normally, a single individual cannot use more than one item.

“That’s... what?” Button ended up sputtering out, confused.

A Millennium item ties itself to the soul of the one that possesses it. Under normal circumstances, that’s all that’ll be allowed, since the power of the item draws its strength from the soul of its user.

“Then, whoever has the other six-” Button started.

I know what you’re about to say, but we’re not out of the desert yet. If one should possess all seven items, then said user would attain ultimate power, cancelling out the limitations.

“So... they’re useful when you only have one, useless if you have more, but completely busted if you get all of them?”

To put it simply, yes.

“And the only thing keeping HIM from getting the cheat codes to the world is me and your stupid puzzle?”

Correct, but with less juvenile insulting.

“Who in Equestria thought THAT would be a good idea?”

Circumstances, my dear boy. It all came down to circumstances.

“That is the lamest excuse I’ve heard in a while.”

If I could remember the specifics, I could tell you, but it HAS been a long time since that day. Something pretty significant would have to happen to help me get some sort of a clue.

Button pawed at his chin a little, and looked back to the tablet before him. The slab loomed over the little colt and the other museum patrons like a daunting wall, with the extra ominous implications added with the missing artifacts.

“What do we do?” Button asked honestly.

Now where we know where we stand, we know how to proceed. Our first task is to find the missing items.

“WHAT?!” Button blurted out, causing other ponies to gaze towards the boy with startled confusion. Button laughed nervously and waved away the outburst, trying to make it seem like it wasn’t him. Once the other visitors had given up interest in the lad’s outburst, Button repeated himself in a much more hushed tone. 

If we’re to have any hope in fixing this, we need to make sure that all items are secure and out of his reach. He can’t use them all at the moment, so chances are he’s handed them to some of his pawns for the time being to collect later. That’ll be his greatest asset when looking for us, and his greatest weakness.

“No, excuse me, WHAT?” Button repeated in a hiss with gritted teeth, “You’re telling me that we start looking for those golden trinkets, and RISK getting caught multiple times?! I’m just a-”

-A kid. I’m very aware of the fact, but the problem you’re not seeing is that the only other path we take is to hunt him down and confront him directly. We are NOT ready, and we have NO insurance if we fail. Besides, when is it EVER a good idea to confront the final boss in a game you’re just starting to play?

“I hate you,” Button grumbled.

You’ll come around. Come, we need to hit the library! It’s time I show you what this ‘trinket’ can do.


=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=


The Canterlot Library of Magic; a majestic structure weaving the cultural heritage of Unicorn prestige in brick, mortar, and parchment, as well as one of the best maintained home of texts of varying subjects within, often visited by students from various universities, including the School for Gifted Unicorns. Study and research permeate the very walls and steps of this grand edifice, almost compelling even the most stubborn, procrastinating visitors to take a look within a book at least once. Button, while not adverse to the idea of cracking open a text for the odd homework session, would be lying if he said that this filled him with excitement.

Never-the-less, Atem insisted on visiting the grand hall of knowledge for his as-of-yet unknown reasons, with promises of explanations shortly afterword. His direction lead them to the magical reference section, which was filled with a variety of spellbooks and magical theory tomes, all ranging from beginner friendly guides to magic, right up to advanced techniques and equations that only a scholar like Twilight would truly appreciate.

Hmmm... I think we should look into that one.

“Which one?”

The one I’m... oh, right. Can’t see that I’m pointing at it. ‘Index of Magical Spells and Incantations’ is the book we need for now.

“This one?” Button asked as he began pulling out a rather hefty book from its home. The weight of the tome very quickly surprised Button as it all but fell on him as if it were half his weight, give or take.

Excellent. Take it to a private desk. We don’t need too many onlookers.

“If I can carry the stupid thing,” Button strained out of his teeth while toting the heavy book upon his back to the back of the library.

Oh, quit being a mewling child, it’s not that far.

Button pushed on slowly as he painstakingly made it to the back of the library, far out of the prying eyes of the general public. Private booths sat vacant, waiting for someone to utilize them, where one was finally filled with Button’s presence, accompanied by the massive index book, which he dropped upon the table top before him with a loud thwack.

Careful.

“Wasn’t trying to drop it, but I dare YOU to try to carry it.”

In a moment. Open up to the table of contents, and look for descrying spells.

“Descrying?”

Yes. It’ll help us look for the remaining items... and perhaps tell us where ‘HE’ is.

Button, rolling his eyes to the non-answer, opened up the book to the table of contents, as he was told, and began looking through the list. After a few minutes, he came across a section labeled “Spells for Perception and Location”. Looking through the subsection beneath it, he found the very thing he was looking for, and turned the pages to the correct number.

Excellent. Now, there are four different types of this magic. We need ‘magic descrying’.

“Don’t we need to look for the items, though?”

Trust me. This will catch two fish with one lure.

Button flipped through the pages within the section, and finally found the page that detailed magic descrying. Honestly, if it weren’t labeled as such, the difficult terms, mathematical equations, and other such things would have appeared as gobbledygook to him and likely would have made him miss the page entirely.

“So,” Button started, “How am I supposed to use this... stuff? I’m an Earth Pony, after all.”

That’s where I come in.

“What do you mean?”

Do me a favor and hold the puzzle in both of your hooves.

Button raised his eyebrow, but did as he was told, somewhat curious as where this was going.

Now, repeat after me. ‘I summon thee, King of Games’.

“What? That sounds stupid.”

Just do it.

Button scowled at the curt retort but gave a small sigh. He came this far, so he might as well see where all of this nonsense would take him. Holding up the puzzle with a new sense of conviction, he breathed in once more, and spoke:

“I summon thee, King of Games!”

The puzzle glowed brightly in his hooves, almost blinding him. However, while the light was beyond intense, he could not force himself to cover his eyes, or even close them. He then began to feel a strange sensation as something was pulling him forward, and began to lose feeling all over his body. In what seemed like a few short minutes, the intense light finally died down, and Button soon realized his perception had shifted. He looked about, and realized very quickly that something was wrong. First of all, he felt he was A LOT closer to the book than he originally was. Second of all, upon turning around to see if anyone was behind him, he realized that his own face was now staring at him, with a few changes.

Button then started screaming.

“Ow, hey, I can still hear you!” said the voice of Atem through Button’s own lips.

WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO ME!

“Traded spots. This isn’t the first time, but the other two instances were very, very critical and dangerous. Honestly, this method is far more energy efficient and-”

WHEN I GET MY BODY BACK, I’M GOING TO CHUCK YOU OUT THE WINDOW AND GO RIGHT BACK TO PONYVILLE!

Ignoring Button’s rant, Atem continued, “-allows me to do things you simply can’t do. There will come a time on this journey of ours when we need my magic and you are simply too young, inexperienced, and quite frankly, the wrong tribe to use the puzzle’s full power.”

GET OUT OF MY BODY! AND GET RID OF THOSE STUPID GOLDEN BANGS! AND WHY DO I HAVE A HORN NOW?!

“I needed to make some necessary changes while I’m in possession. Can’t cast magic without a horn, after all. Furthermore, these lovely golden locks caught the eye of many concubine in my day!”

Button continued to rant and rave to unintelligible degrees as Atem began to actively ignore the angry colt’s phantom shouting, now turning his attention to the book. His horn glowed mauve as he closed his eyes and began putting the necessary weaves and sequences together to first cast a spell to mask his magical signature. Next, he cast a secondary spell to obscure his casting location. Finally, he began working the spell in the book while using the puzzle as a reference point. Within seconds, and upon opening his eyes, the spell was complete, and he could feel six magical signatures. Each slightly different from each other, but all resembling the puzzle itself.

“Excellent.”

Whoa, wait, what in Equestria? I can see them.

“Oh, you’ve finished throwing your tantrum?” Atem asked in a conceited tone.

I’m still going to chuck you into a river... but I can’t get over this. I can actually SEE them. How did you do that?

“Descrying magic. It allows another to view something from a long distance away. Because I looked for magical essences over objects, I was able to find the items easier, since the Millennium Items all have a similar signature to the Puzzle. There are perhaps hundreds, if not thousands, of golden objects out there in the world, some of them probably imbued with some sort of magic, be it natural, infused, or cursed, all having their own magical signature. It’s like looking for a specific author rather than looking through an entire genre of book.”

Wait, there’s one here in Canterlot!

“Which will probably be our first target,” Atem announced as he closed the book and lifted it from its resting place. “The descrying spell will probably last a few more minutes before it wears off. In the meantime, we should get an atlas, parchment, and a quill.”

I think you told me to get stuff like that before I left. Check my pack.

“Right you are, my good boy,” Atem replied with genuine appreciation, “I completely forgot about that. All I need is an atlas, then.”

After Atem levitated the spellbook from the booth and returned it to its proper spot. he went straight for the geography section of the library and fished out the most current atlas he could find. Unfortunately, it was still a couple decades behind, making it slightly out of date considering the current events, but it was enough for the time being. He brought it to a desk, fished out a piece of paper and pencil from the pack, and began to write everything down, checking the atlas for reference of geographical names. Once finished, the sheet read as follows:


	Necklace - Canterlot

	Eye - Las Pegasus

	Scales - Trottingham

	Rod - Badlands

	Key - Southern Deserts

	Ring - Manehatten



He then wrote down the descrying spell beneath it, complete with an alternate equation, before closing the atlas and slipping the paper and writing tools back into the saddle-pack.

Why is the Ring listed all the way at the bottom?

“We need to hunt that one down last. I think you know why.”

I think, I do... What about the necklace?

“That particular object is one we need to secure as swiftly as possible. In the wrong hands, it is an incredibly powerful and dangerous tool. One that is likely being used at this very moment. The obscuring spells I used will help, but its power of divination will eventually pinpoint our location and most probable route.”

Wait a minute. Divination? It can see into the future?

“Mostly. One may be lead to believe its powers to be ironclad, but in reality it allows the user to see the most likely of possible outcomes. Time doesn’t move in a straight line, after all,” Atem mentioned.

You make it sound a lot less useful than you implied earlier.

“It is, never-the-less, a very good way to keep track of individuals of interest. I have said before that HE has eyes everywhere. This is one of the few reasons, but I previously hoped I was wrong. If we can get to it, we can deal a huge blow to his ability to track us, making our other targets easier to track down without interference.”

Atem then gasped, remembering something very important, and pulled the paper back out again, before scoffing in disgust. He sighed, drew a card sized rectangle on on the corner, folded and carefully tore it off at the creases, then drew a strange image at its center, surrounded by Neighyption hieroglyphs. His horn then began to glow as magic slowly seeped into the little paper card before dissipating.

“I’m going to need a stronger material, but this should be good for a one time use.”

What did you do?

“Made a little insurance for us. If ever in trouble, simply say ‘summon’, and the name of the card. We should be able to get temporary help from the creature in the card.”

Wait, what does that mean? Are you saying I can, quite literally, summon something to fight for me?

There was silence as Atem refused to answer what was basically a redundant question that merely reflected what he already stated. Said silence was broken when Button spoke up once again.

I think I hate you a little less now, cause that sounds so cool!

“So, you won’t throw me to the river?”

Button refused to answer, leaving Atem to simply sigh as he put everything he had back into the saddle-pack, returned the atlas to its rightful spot, and left the library without another word. There were some things to do, and he had little time to dawdle.

Though, it was quite difficult for Atem to stick to that mentality. Being able to see the city with real eyes, feel the wind with real skin, and to quite literally experience life outside of the damnable puzzle was enough to let him get lost in the sensations. Sure, he could feel all of this when he forced control those last couple of times, but this was the moment where he was able to truly appreciate it. There was no restrictive time limit. No threat. Just him and the outside world all around him. He smiled, genuinely, and slowed his pace as he began wandering the streets. 

Are you going to give me my body back now?

“Hush. I’m having a moment.”


=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=


Somewhere in the deeper, darker locations of Canterlot, far enough outside the gaze of the ever present Royal Guards, a stallion sits in a barely lit room, covered wall to wall with maps. Upon those various maps of regions and cities are pinned and marked with various photos of many different creatures, each with names and notes stuck beneath them, some of them haphazardly crossed out or circled violently. He slowly walked up to the map of Canterlot before him and placed his beige hoof upon the map as he gently traced the tip along the lines of the roadways. Heavy, tired, scarlet eyes focus in intensity as his gold necklace with the Eye of Anubis at its center glowed ominously, suddenly filling his vision with flashes of Button’s visage, shifting back and forth between his look as a child and his look possessed by Atem Gah’mes. As he watched, he brushed his sandy orange bangs from his eyes, making sure he wouldn’t miss a single premonition.

Suddenly, the room filled with light as the door slammed open while a hooded figure stepped inside.

“There’s a call for you from Mr. Otep.” 

“Close the door,” he said, cold and chilling.

“Mr. Otep cannot be kept waiting, Mr. Glass,” the hooded figure urged, producing a crystal ball and placing it on the table nearby.

The beige stallion sighed as he turned away from his personal atlas and approached the orb, which began emitting a sickly blue light. The form of a griffon appeared before him, clad in black feathers, and dawning a pure white mask. Words weren’t minced, as the figure in the ball spoke with a smooth, suave voice that would have been cultivated from the upper crust, “I’m very disappointed in you, Hour Glass.”

“I apologize, my sire,” Hour Glass declared with a bow, “I never knew my compatriots would fail us so thoroughly, even with your assistance.”

“I could have sincerely used the correct intel, Mr. Glass. It would have saved me the time and effort, rather than pilfer the soul of some mare to get what I want,” as he said this, he thumbed and waved about a black card between his claws. “She is quite the pretty little thing, so it’ll be such a shame.”

“You know the power of the necklace, my sire. It only shows-”

“The most likely possibilities, I know. I gifted it to you, after all, but I expected... better.”

“The Puzzle is... difficult to keep an eye on. It was virtually invisible until the last month, and even with its magic waning enough for me to see it-”

“It does not change the fact that your information was crude, Mr. Glass,” there was a sigh before Otep continued, “I am a reasonable boss, however. I trust you’ve been doing your best to locate the puzzle now, yes?”

“I have, and it’s chosen the most unusual host.”

“Will you be able to collect it?”

“I was undergoing the divination for that exact reason. I will find out soon enough.”

“See that you do, Hour Glass,” he then flipped the card so the other side could be seen. On its face showed the image of Button’s Mother, frozen in a state of horror, as if it were a mere picture right after a scare. “I’d hate to be the one to tell you when you’re hour is up.” The orb’s light then faded out as the visage of Otep disappeared. The hooded figure collected the crystal ball and backed out of the room, closing the door behind him, letting it bathe in darkness once more.

Hour Glass turned back to the wall of maps, and approached the one he was viewing before his interruption. He closed his eyes and let the Millennium Necklace glow once again, bringing up visions of the near future. He concentrated hard on seeking out the possibility of getting in contact with the Puzzle. After a few moments, he found what he was looking for: Squaring off at the edge of the city, overlooking the valley below, he and his prey stood face to face, each with confident smiles that screamed they were the victor.

“There,” he muttered, placing a tack on the spot he saw in the variety of visions, “We are fated to meet there.”