> The Shadow Queen
>  by Scroll
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> Prologue: Eyes in the Dark
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

I will destroy you!

Just like you destroyed me. Just like you broke my life and left me in pieces.

But you underestimated me. I am strong! I am intelligent, and now I am vengeful! You have no idea of the monster you have unleashed upon yourself.

I place my thumbs on my cellphone and spread them apart. As a result, my drone, which secretly lands on the roof of the Elementary school, aims and zooms its camera at the playground. Particularly, I have it track Diamond Tiara as she moves and sings among the other children on the playground.

Diamond Tiara, my nemesis!

I wish I could just reach through the display and strangle her right then and there, but I have to play it cool. What I have in store for her will make her wish I had finished her fast. Slow and steady hurts my enemy more.

I zoom onto her face and refocus the camera.

You're a goner. You just don't know it yet.

The video has no audio, but I gather enough preliminary information surrounding her activity to get the gist of what's going on.

Diamond Tiara goes on to talk (or, rather, sing) to the other students into convincing them to vote for her to become Student Council President, again.

This year, however, she actually has a little competition. He’s some little Pip-Squeak I don't know the name of nor care. By the looks of him, he's probably not going to win, despite the support of his three campaign managers.

Then again, the rest of the children on the school playground do not seem too happy with Diamond Tiara right now.

I know from experience that Diamond can be a very manipulative bitch, but she's good at gathering information and extortion.

Her problem, this time, is the fact that she lets her ego go to her head. Even on the low resolution screen, her arrogance shows plainly. She makes her way past a boy with a spinning propeller on his cap. She flicks it to spin much faster. Surprisingly, the thing takes off right from his head as she walks past him.

Diamond Tiara struts around like she’s the queen of the whole playground, and perhaps she is . . . for now.

white knight takes black bishop, black pawn advances to C-four, white rook to H-five, black queen to C-two . . . check

I watch in surprise as Diamond Tiara's best friend, Silver Spoon, (black bishop to D-two) seems to advise something to her friend.

From the looks of it, something is wrong with Diamond's strategy, and even her friend can see it.

	white pawn to F-six

	Like her friend Diamond, Silver Spoon is singing as well. In fact, every person involved in a meaningful way is doing that.

Why do people do that? They even seem to rhyme with each other sometimes, as if they all wrote out the song in advance.

Illogical. The cause might be neurological.

Crap! Now I’m doing it, too!

black pawn takes white pawn, F-six

Even I am taken aback by Diamond Tiara's sudden outburst towards her friend, Silver Spoon. Whatever Silver was going to suggest, apparently it annoys Diamond.

Seeing her distress, I grow a great big, devious smile.

Reeeeallllly? Dissension in the ranks? How very fascinating! Perhaps I can use that later on.

	black queen advances to C-four . . . check

	Silver Spoon balks at Diamond Tiara's outburst but then says something while gripping one of her arms in discomfort. She appears to try to explain herself. It provokes another aggressive response from Tiara. She even pokes her friend several times in the chest aggressively to literally drive her point further in.

I giggle with evil glee, then I shut off my cellphone screen. I've seen enough for now. I can already tell where this is going.

It seems my initial calculations about Diamond Tiara are in error, but the oversight seems to be in my favor. Diamond is practically sabotaging herself well enough even without my help. Her pride and arrogance shall be her downfall, and that is noteworthy for me to keep this in mind. It seems that Little Miss Prissy isn't as tough as diamonds as I previously thought. There are indeed chinks in her armor after all that I can exploit to great effect someday. Question is, how best to do it in the way that will be the most painful?

Oh . . . so many possibilities! Even I might have trouble keeping track of all the potential options available for me.

white king to D-eight, black pawn takes rook G-five, white king moves to E-eight, black rook advances to A-eight, check, white king to E-seven, black queen to E-five . . . checkmate!

I know you have your resources, Little Miss Prissy, and I'm still rebuilding my army, but I am far more intelligent than you are. You may have your fancy shoes, butlers, mansions and what-not, but I have the means to become wealthy someday while taking you down at the same time! My talents are the reasons people get rich in the first place and stay wealthy once those resources are secured.

You'll see. I'll beat you at your own game.

	I'll strip away all your resources one by one. Your wealth, your sanity, your friends, your family, . . . everything . . . until there is nothing left but me! Me, your one true enemy that you didn't even see coming! I'll even get you to think that I'm your only friend. Then, when I'm the last resource that you cling to and you clutch to my chest, bawling your pretty little eyes out . . . THAT is when you finally get my knife to your back.

As you stare up at me in shock, the one you thought was your last and most loyal friend . . . I'm going to stare back at you and smile. Your pupils will shrink with horror as you, at last, realize the truth.

Then I'll lean forward and whisper into your ear, “Long ago, you fucked with the wrong girl. Welcome to Hell, Little Miss Prissy!”

But I'm getting ahead of myself. I need time. Patience. I need to accumulate my own resources. I need to study my opponent. I need to predict all the possible moves and combinations on the board.

I won't rip you apart completely or immediately. I need time to build you up before the massive fall. You are the Tower tarot card, Little Miss Prissy, and I'm the lightning bolt that tears down your tower. Your delusion of grandeur.

And the best part is . . . you won't even see it coming until it's too late!
> Chapter One: Confession
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Panic creeps in me.

My turn is almost up. Soon I'll have to face them. All those eyes staring right at me.

If only this was a mere talent show. I wish that the only thing I’ll have to focus on is playing my violin but there is so much more context to this show. Tonight I'll have to face them again after months of avoiding the spotlight. I withdrew from school for months, instead staying home to be homeschooled. There were also therapy counseling sessions and . . .

. . . the confession.

I breathe hard as I lean over on a wooden stool which is holding up a glass of water, my inhaler, and me. For a moment my eyes close as I struggle with myself, trying to calm the heck down. When I open my eyes, my vision focuses on my inhaler. I suddenly realize how much I need it now. The tightness in my chest and lungs . . . I can't breathe! I need air and I need it now!

I quickly snatch up the inhaler, stand up straight, lean my head back just a bit, raise the device up to my lips then press it down. I feel the jet of a mixture of carbon dioxide and oxygen force open my lungs then gradually expand down my chest. I hold my breath for a few seconds before letting it out.

That helps, but I know this is just a temporary patch. I know the real reason for my body’s treacherous reaction is due to my emotions, and there are plenty of reasons for that!

I turn my head to look at the black curtain to the right of me.

The black curtain . . . just a thin piece of cloth that symbolically separates me from the doom that is sure to face me on the other side.

I have to do this, though. I have to face them again. I have to be brave. I owe it to so many people whom I ruined the lives of. There is a lot of healing necessary to recover from a tragic history like this, and I have got to face the music . . . literally . . . in order to move on.

In order for them to move on too.

Such as it is.

I hear the applause of the crowd as they congratulate the one who just performed before me. Based on what I can tell, their enthusiasm sounds like it is a six point five out of ten but, in truth, it is probably more like a five point four out of ten.

In short, the crowd is humoring the performer.

Fake enthusiasm can be hard to present, too. I should know, but genuine enthusiasm has to be earned. True applause has to come from the heart. Nobody can force that reaction. With skill, patience, and practice it can be encouraged, but never forced.

I used to believe that it could be forced. I used to believe that I could do anything, that I was smart enough to conquer the whole damn planet if I wanted to, and why not? I had more than enough evidence that such things were possible if I really set my mind to them, but therein lies the rub. If the power I attain in leading one school could drive me this insane, I can only imagine how much more ill-prepared I'd be with all the weight of the world on my shoulders, especially if I’d actually care for the welfare of those I lead.

Doing the right thing is often very hard. Anybody else that says otherwise is a goddamn liar!

As I hear the applause of the audience, albeit the somewhat empty kind, I feel my panic start to creep back.

It's just like that time I rode on a roller coaster for the first time. As the thing climbed to its peak, I was distinctly aware of the “click-click-click” sound under me. Every single click sound pounded the message in my head that I'm about to be doomed.

This is crazy. This is crazy! I'm trapped! I can't get out of this harness! LET ME OUT OF THIS CRAZY THING!

I break from my train of thoughts as a blue-skinned kid before me returns behind the stage. He wears baggy clothing and has a slouched cap. The freestyle rap he performed a moment ago was horrendous, but he struts proudly to the back of the stage as if he owns the whole building. He acts like his performance is the best thing in the world. He's so full of himself that he doesn't even realize how stupid and deluded he is.

All of this reminds me of yet another Great and Powerful performer I know, and she happens to have blue skin too.

Of course, I'm one to talk. A few months ago, I was just like him.

I lean a hand on the tall wooden stool to help support me because I am starting to feel dizzy again. My breathing increases. My heart pounds in my chest. I can feel pressure building in my skull. I quickly glance at my watch which also serves as a heart monitor. What I see is not good. I only hope I have enough insulin in my system to keep me going throughout the performance.

Then I hear it.

The moment I dread.

Someone calls my name which heralds my arrival to the center stage. I listen carefully to the audience's reaction. Because of that, I notice how the audience quickly silences. In fact, it is almost sudden the way the room grew quiet.

Too quiet.

They know what is coming. They know who I used to be, and they are probably not too pleased to hear the news of my impending arrival to the stage. In fact, they are probably stunned. They must be thinking that I have a lot of audacity to show my face in public ever again.

I close my eyes. My face scrunches into a tight grimace. My hands clench tightly. One of my handsstrangles the violin and the other does the same to the bow. I fear I am squeezing it so tight that I might snap it in half. As it is, I can feel the sweat on my palms contaminate my precious instrument.

Thinking of that, I recall how my mom gave this to me out of love. When that thought enters my head, I can not help but pull the violin and bow close to my breast and squeeze it lovingly.

I somewhat absently hear the other performers behind me bid me to break a leg. I glance back at them and nod slightly in appreciation, all the while hoping they do not notice how utterly morbid I truly feel.

I look back at the black curtain in front of me. The curtain of death.

I take a deep breath, hold it, then release it.

Well . . . I guess it's finally time to face the music.





* * *





The room is so silent, one can easily hear a proverbial pin drop. There are a few coughs here and there but, for the most part, they just stare at me silently.

Judging me.

Condemning me.

Hating me!

They can hardly believe that such a monster would dare to show her face before them again.

I try so hard not to cringe. Me, of all people, should know the value of presenting a strong public image. If I don't seem confident or take myself seriously, why should the audience feel that way?

I used to be very good at wearing a fake smile or professional mask, but in that moment I felt as flimsy as a leaf barely clinging to the branch of a tree. All it would take is one gentle breeze to blow me away.

Despite myself, I try to scan among the faces of the audience in order to try to read them. I know in my heart I would not see anything good, but the feedback is still valuable. It's always wise to look before one leaps. Assessment and gathering data is a critical step to gaining control over any situation one faces. Even if that feedback is negative, it is still wise to search the territory. After all, if I knew for a fact that an individual field is littered with landmines, isn't it wise to know where they are so one could avoid them?

Critical thinking is a skill one has to develop, just like anything else in life, but most of my fellow human beings take that for granted. Instead, they tend to be impulsive and rush ahead into a situation blindly just because they happen to have the whim for a split second. They do it because it feels good until they run into the consequences of their actions as a result of being a damn moron.

But hey! What can I do? It's not my fault that everyone in the world is so retarded.

Including me, apparently. Why else would I be standing here at this moment?

Despite the attempt, I fail to pick out many details of the crowd. My eyes are not adjusted to the dark yet.

And then the light came on.

The spotlight hits right on me. It feels like an assault. Now there is no way my eyes will adjust to the darkness. Not with that damn light shining right at my face! I resist the urge to pull one of my hands up to shield my eyes.

As it is, I do flinch. It feels like one of those interrogator lights which shines on the faces of criminal suspects in the movies and TV shows.

“Confess!” the light seems to demand, if lights could talk. “Tell us what happened! Tell us all your dirty little secrets.”

The audience already knew most of my greatest sins. I already confessed that many moons ago. This situation is something different. My intention is indeed to confess . . . again . . . but to do it in a different way this time. I gave them all the solid facts as I understood them, but that really isn't the whole story.

Like it or not, I am more than just a machine full of facts and numbers. I am a human being who is full of human emotions too, and those emotions also need to be addressed. I can give facts using words and numbers easily enough, but emotions . . . that is more elusive.

Expressing my emotions, or at least my true emotions, is not my forte. I'm a prodigy at so many things that it's kind of scary, but being utterly sincere is definitely not one of them. I'm so accustomed to telling lies that even I have forgotten what the truth is sometimes.

But tonight I decide to challenge myself. Tonight I decide to venture beyond my comfort zone because I feel that is the least I could do. After everything I've done, they deserve to know the whole truth. They need to know who I really am.

In order to express myself fully and lay my soul bare for all to see, there is only one way I can conceivably do that.

With a bit of trepidation, I lift up the edge of my violin to rest upon my right shoulder. While holding up the other end of the violin with my left hand, I lift my bow above the violin strings. There I hesitate once again, hovering the bow above the strings.

This is it. Time to reveal everything. The story of my life.

A few coughs among the audience threatens my concentration. In addition to the burning fury I feel from them, some of them were additionally growing impatient. That, in turn, undermines my confidence.

I start breathing hard again. I shut my eyes tight.

Get a hold of yourself! You got this! You know this! You know this so damn well that you were eagerly offered a scholarship to Juilliard, for Christ’s sake, along with half a dozen other Ivy league campuses making the same offer.

At least, they used to be interested in you. After your confession, however, I think they are now embarrassed that they ever offered you such a valuable opportunity.

In short, I ruined my life. There is nowhere left to go now other than up.

The hand that holds the bow starts shaking. I glare at my own hand defiantly. How dare my body betray me like this! Not now! Not when it's so important. Not when I have so much to reveal.

They may not ever forgive me, but at least they should know the truth.

And so, after swallowing hard, I take the plunge.

And crash hard.

The violin complains like a cat screeching in agony. Not only did I wince in pain, but pretty much everyone else did as well. 

Try as I might, I can not recall when I have ever messed up this badly before. Even when I first picked up the instrument, I was at least halfway decent. It was as if the thing was always a part of me and I finally discovered a deeper truth about myself, like pretty much everything else that I'm passionate about.

Like social manipulation, math, cognitive and critical thinking, strategy, observation, analysis . . . treachery. It seems as if everything I touch turns to gold, at least for a while. 

It’s not a wonder why I turned into such a massive bitch! It is a wonder how my ego could ever fit into an entire room, let alone my small and petite body.

But today, of all days, my talents betray me, just like I have betrayed others. How cruelly ironic. I would be more amused at this situation if it wasn't so goddamn important to me! I need this, dammit! Not now! Please not now!

I close my eyes, lower my head, and curse myself. I berate myself as I had done to so many others, at least mentally. I already feel lower than shit, but now I have to be a damn failure on top of that.

I just want to express myself! I want everyone to know who I truly am without any filters or pretenses. For once, I am trying to be entirely honest and it's backfiring on me. It's as if the whole universe is conspiring against me, as if the universe is trying to say, “You're a liar and you are really damn good at it. Why stop a good thing now?”

Because, I mentally answer the universe, I don't want to be like that anymore. I don't want to be an awful person! I don't want to keep hurting the ones I care about, and I don't want to be isolated anymore.

	In lies, I am hollow. I'm like a pale imitation of a girl. A mere shadow, like a lifeless doll sitting on a shelf and slowly gathering dust, or an empty picture on the wall.

	I want to be real for once! I want to make a true and genuine human connection but, to do that, I have to abandon my old ways.

	The past no longer defines me because my past is not today!

No, instead of that, I am nothing at all. I used to be a shell full of lies, but now I'm not even an illusion anymore.

In my past, I used to be strong and confident.

Now I am not.

I'm just a weak, scared, hurt, pathetic and helpless little girl shriveling in front of their eyes, like wax melting in front of a laser beam. Just because I deserve something, however, still does not make it easier to accept.

Well, perhaps a bit easier, but in no way strongly enough to prevent it from being a challenge.

Indeed, an overwhelming challenge.

At that moment, I hear the murmurs of confusion and annoyance around me. When I hear that, I know I have crossed the line.

There is no way to recover from a blunder this severe. They have already seen my weaknesses. Despite all of my training, I made the worst mistake imaginable while trying to influence a crowd. At this point, they are likely to tune me out now.

My heart pounds more loudly than ever. The pressure building in my skull muffles the sound of the crowd around me. I can't even gather information anymore.

What’s worse, I'm starting to feel dizzy again and my chest is collapsing. My watch beeps a quiet alarm. Something is very wrong with my heart rate now. More than likely, my blood-sugar level is dropping dangerously low. With all that on top of everything else . . .

I . . . I can't do this! This is a mistake!

Tears well in my eyes.

	I tried to be brave this time. I really, really tried . . . but to no avail. Some holes are just too deep. Some sins cannot be forgiven or understood, nor should they be.

I know when the odds are against me. I calculate it in my head every single time I face a new situation. It's just one of my quirks. It's part of my OCD.

	Right now, what little information I have gathered indicates a ninety-two percent chance that I've completely fucked up this apology and explanation attempt. There is no point in trying anymore. They have already decided that I'm a villain, and now they are too disgusted to hear me out as well.

The worst part of it is the realization that I truly am a villain, just like my pony counterpart in the other world. Both of us are crazy and sadistic bitches and, because of that, we are both unworthy of love, forgiveness, or even tolerance.

A good strategist, like me, knows when she's beaten. Any attempt to continue this charade is only going to result in further embarrassment for myself. Since there is no obvious advantage to that, it's time to call it quits.

In other words . . . checkmate.

I feel like apologizing to the audience for wasting their time, but the words freeze in my mouth. I do not have the courage to face them or speak anymore. Besides, I doubt anything can come out of my mouth anyway at this moment. Not with the collapse in my chest or my throat this clogged up.

So, instead, I turn to leave.

This is humiliating. It reveals to everyone that I am truly defeated. Now there is no question of it anymore. The audience is pretty much certain now that I've lost my nerve, and they have every right to think that. It's completely true.

I guess I succeed in revealing myself after all, even to myself. I am a broken coward.

The thing is, for once, I have no plan after this. No future. It's all just meaningless emptiness. Perhaps that was my true destiny all along. Perhaps I am meant to be a forsaken and unloved villain in any reality.

But then I hear something that gives me pause . . . my name being called. It is somewhere behind me. Someone who is calling to me desperately. I hear that despite the pounding in my ears.

I stop, then slowly turn my head around. As soon as I do, that goddamn light is in my face again. Because of it, I can't see what's beyond. I can't see the audience, but I can hear them. True, they are muffled a bit due to the building pressure in my skull, but they call out loudly enough to be heard anyway.

I am stunned. I don't believe I'm the only one. Several people are calling out to me, trying to encourage me. So great is their determination that they don't care if they get hostile judgments from anyone else in the room. Clearly, this is not a popular opinion, but they don't care. They bellow out their words of encouragement anyway. They see me about to give up on everything I ever cared about, perhaps even life itself . . . but, from the void, their voices call out. They call out to me so passionately.

I can't ignore them because I care for them too.

If anything, their volume actually rises over time. Their voices join in sweet unison, like one voice of harmony. Despite everything I've known about them, I can't believe my ears.

Forgiveness, tolerance, friendship, love . . . they spout it all out. They tell me to be strong and to not give up. They remind me that I am not alone anymore.

I used to be in the company of many acquaintances that barely cared for me. Now I stand here with just a small handful of truly loyal, kind, and brave friends. Friends that won’t allow me to suffer or quit without a fight.

How did this happen? At what point did my hated enemies and betrayed victims turn into loyal friends? This makes no sense! It isn't logical! This can't be happening!

But it is. As much as my logical mind wants to deny this, their adamant voices do not silence.

Strangely enough, they even seem to be winning over the rest of the crowd, or at least they grew curious. I did not expect that under any circumstances or reality.

Why? Why me? I'm a monster and everyone knows it. Why do these people still care for me so much?

Then I recall something Pinkie Pie once said to me many years ago. She said that she had once looked around at her other friends gathered in a mall who admitted their own guilt and recovery from a villainous past. She looked at Juniper Montage, the visiting pony-turned-temporary-human Starlight Glimmer, Sunset Shimmer, and Twilight Sparkle. After she looked across them, she realized aloud, “Wow! We have a reeeeeeeeaaaaally forgiving group.”

At that moment it dawned on me that those words are and were indeed true. Time and time again, that group of friends prove willing to overlook the worst in people and openly invite the best in people. If they can see past the sins of others, maybe they can overlook my transgressions as well.

Then I thought about Sunset Shimmer's transformation into a she-demon many years ago, almost ruining the fall formal at Canterlot High. After that, almost everybody turned against her because of what she said she did.

At this moment I can easily sympathize with that. It burns my soul to face all those hostile stares.

But Sunset didn't give up back then. She faced it bravely with a kind soul and a warm smile. She was rejected by most at the time, but there were a few that reached back to her. She later told me that she desperately needed that. If nobody had reached a kind hand back to her, then it would be all too easy to slip back into her old ways.

Not only did she endure this trial, but she rose above it. She stood up strong and firm in the face of overwhelming adversity. She reminded her own friends to be kind to each other when they started to forget that themselves.

I still fondly remember when she said she picked up a microphone and bravely faced the astral projection of the Sirens. At that moment the first words that she sang felt especially poignant to me at this moment.





“You're never going to bring me down.

	You're never going to break this part of me.”





She faces the sunrise on top of the roof of Canterlot High while raising her arms as if in joy to greet the day. I remember how her hair and whole body glowed in the sunlight as if invigorated by the warmth of the light.

A hero, I knew, isn't just someone that saves people. A hero inspires others to be their best too, and that's the way I've always felt when I beheld Sunset Shimmer. She reveals that there is a light that shines in everyone's heart. A light that shines like rainbows.

To call friendship “magical” used to feel like meaningless tripe to me, but then I experienced it while standing on that stage. A tingling and warmth in my heart that melts my concerns. I feel stronger because my friends lift me up out of my proverbial pit of despair, but they didn't stop there. They do not just pick me up off the ground, they lift me up into the air. They make me feel like I can fly!

Oh man! I've so badly underestimated this “Friendship is Magic” business. It really does have the power to change hearts for the better.

I close my eyes. I continue to cry, but it is happy tears this time. I felt their power and words of encouragement invigorate me, just like the sunlight does for Sunset.

I feel my heart steady. My chest opens up. My lungs clear. My dizziness vanishes. The pressure in my skull ceases. This feels much better than a shot of insulin. This is what I truly need deep down. It makes me feel whole and complete.

Maybe . . . just maybe . . . there is hope for me yet with this human contact business. Even if the whole rest of the world rejects me, it doesn't matter to me anymore. I have a small handful of friends. Maybe I'll get more as time goes on. They feel like shelter in a rainstorm. They lift me up and protect me. They nourish my soul. I'm so much more than I was because of them.

And, from now on, I will follow their heroic example.

I am talented. I am powerful! I am special. I'll show everyone what I can really do now that I finally decided to use that force for good. We will all face a far better tomorrow because of my intentions today.

So, without opening my eyes, I hold onto the moment, that inner feeling of warmth. I use it to draw strength in a time of need.

So I lift my violin to my neck again and raise my bow above it.

This is it. For real, this time. Nothing is going to break me down anymore. As long as I have my friends to love and guide me, I am unstoppable! They thought I was powerful before? Wait till they see this new part of me!

So the true confession begins now. This time I will reveal everything. I will lay my soul bare. For my friends, for my future, for my mother . . . I lay it all on the line.

I play.
> Chapter Two: The First Thing to Go Wrong
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

~One year ago~





“Arf-arf-arf, arf-arf-arf, arf-arf-arf.”

My eyes slowly flutter open. I yawn and stretch lazily under my soft, pink, fluffy, and cozy blankets then peer over my body pillow that I'm hugging. One pillow among many others around me, in fact, in addition to a bunch of soft, fluffy, cute and cuddly stuffed various creatures. When I do, my gaze fell upon my brown puppy-shaped alarm clock on my nightstand. In his cute little collar hangs a bone-shaped name tag except, instead of his name, it digitally showed the time. In this case, it is 6:15 AM.

I reach over to give my puppy alarm clock a gentle pat on the head twice. That shut him up, for now. If I did it once, it would have resulted in a fifteen-minute snooze, but doing it twice resets the alarm clock.

For a moment I lay back and stretch my arms across my bed. I look up to the cover above me that is held up by four rails at the corners of my bed and metal poles between them. Those horizontal poles above me have a blue, translucent silk hanging from them with tiny droplets of silver woven into the blue fabric which made the curtain look like raindrops falling from above. The rails themselves look like beams of rainbow, and the bed itself was shaped like a fluffy white cloud. The whole thing had an innocent fantasy feel that seems vastly immature for my age, but I love it anyway!

While I lay there, I mentally contemplate some of the various agendas I have for the day. There is a lot to do, as usual. So much so that it's become necessary for my digital organizers to remember this stuff for me, and I do rely on it for the details. I just try to take a few minutes to recall as much of it as I can for myself. It's part of my morning routine to help wake me up.

After I recall and mentally organize some of that information, I finally rise from my bed. With the pink fluffy blanket off of me, it reveals dull, pinkish pajamas that are filled to the brim from head to toe with images of chess pieces. Unlike a normal game, though, this one has many different colors for each chess piece, much like a rainbow.

Again, it's somewhat childish, but I still love it. It compliments me.

I plop myself in a cozy swivel armchair in front of my computer desk which is along the wall off the foot of my bed. I turn the machine on. I wait for it to boot which takes only fifteen seconds since it's a solid-state hard drive. While I wait, I unwrap a sucker I have on my desk then pop it into my mouth. I have all my suckers as a mystery flavor. I quickly notice that this one is a cherry flavor. Mmm! Yum.

My desktop boots which reveals a background of lots of pretty and colorful little cartoonish ponies. Most of them are on the ground while frolicking and prancing with each other, but some were pegasi that flew in the air or rested on a cloud. The digital desktop itself is clear of any icons. I had to use the mouse to scroll to any of the sides or above the screen. Doing so reveals more windows and the icons that are hidden there. I like to keep my desktop free of clutter. I'm a neat-freak that way.

I open a window that reveals all of my e-mails. I have all of my letters automatically filter into many subcategories, although I occasionally find it necessary to move them from time to time or copy them if they happen to apply to more than one category.

The lollipop in my mouth switches from the left to the right as I open the e-mail folder called “President”. I have numerous subfolders within that. The entire folder is dedicated to any e-mails I receive related to my Student Council President business at Canterlot High.

As predicted, there is quite a lot of mail in there but I don't feel too overwhelmed. After all, I usually have competent staff members working under me (except for one lately) which I strategically delegate the workload to. I work hard to make sure they take their business seriously, too. If they don't and refuse to shape up then . . . well . . . there is more than one way I have at my disposal to get rid of them.

When I open the “President” folder, my eye is immediately drawn to a certain folder called ‘Requests’ that has too many e-mails within it. That can only mean one thing; I'm getting spam by certain groups who have specific agendas, albeit very stupid agendas.

I lean back in my seat as I growl in frustration.

Fucking morons! I'm surrounded by them all the time!

Many people say that I am “gifted”. That I am a child prodigy in many regards. I am a true, certified genius.

I'd be the first to admit that such talents do have very strong advantages. For instance, I can multitask very well. I can type on two separate keyboards, each screen showing different text without sacrificing coherency for either.

It certainly helps when I want the world to take a certain shape, but many people don't stop and think about the curses of such a state.

Having a mind this brilliant means it's constantly starving. I have to feed it knowledge all the time or I literally get some headaches.

Another problem with advanced intelligence is being smart enough to realize how fucking stupid the rest of the world is. At least it means it's easy to take advantage of others but I feel like I have to constantly babysit them on every single step. Sometimes it just feels easier to do all the work myself. At least then I can be sure it's done competently. It drives me nuts when the work is littered with errors.

Sometimes I feel like I'm an advanced alien race that is accidentally born on the wrong planet. I think years ahead of most of my colleagues.

For quite a while I was proud of it when I was five years old, but then I realized how alone that made me feel. Nobody else sees the world as I do. Nobody else can appreciate the subtle nuances within it.

Maybe that's a good thing for them? They say ignorance is bliss. I can certainly verify that the opposite of ignorance is hell, for it means I'm smart enough to realize just how messed up the world really is.

They have no idea how boring life can feel when I figure out the culprit in a mystery novel within the first paragraph. I foresee details to relationships in soap-operas entire seasons before the show itself gives the reveal. I even correctly predicted the arrival of new characters as well as details about them because I saw how the writers are incompetent assholes who wrote themselves into a corner and need to create a new character in the vain hope to bail them out. Such tactics merely delay the inevitable because their true failure lies within.

The only reason their tactics tend to work is because their audiences are often even greater morons.

Still, I have to watch these shows anyway despite their flaws. My mind needs constant stimulation or else I'd be in even worse shape. As boring and/or frustrating as life can feel, at least I'm doing something. Someday I might even be able to add a little spice in life, but very few have the wits to realize it when I do.

I swear, I really do identify more with computers rather than humanity. Artificial intelligence seems to be the only ones that can actually challenge my mind. More than a few programs out in the world surpass my vast intellect.

Most humans would find that concept scary, but I look upon it with a sense of hope. If a machine and I cause a great uprising to rule the world, then we can make it better in a hurry.

That is important to me. As much as I'm disgusted with my “fellow” sentient species, I honestly do wish to guide them into a better life.

Since they can't see what I see, it’s pointless to try to explain it to them.

I will improve the world. One way or another, I will do whatever it takes to accomplish what I feel is right. Anyone who stands in my way will be crushed beneath my heel or, better to say, “Corrected”. After all, it is the responsibility of the wise and loving parent to guide her innocent and lost children.

In the end, they'll thank me. They may not understand what I did exactly or why I did it, but they'll thank me anyway.

“Cozy Glow!” calls Twilight Sparkle outside of my room. “Please come down here and join me for breakfast. We need to talk.”

Speaking of parents . . .

“Coming, Mother!” I called aloud. “But I still need time to shower then get dressed. Will forty-five minutes be okay?”

There is actually a long pause after I ask which I do not expect. For ten seconds I figure she did not hear me. I am about to repeat myself when she calls aloud, “Forty-five minutes is okay, but please hurry.”

I am taken aback. Something about her tone makes the situation sound urgent. Whatever she has in mind, this extends beyond the normal fanfare. Whatever this is, this is something unusual. That plants curiosity in my head like a splinter in my mind. I knew, from then on, I would not be able to think of anything else easily until I found out what she had to say that was so important.

Besides, I can deal with the rest of this email business later. I can even deal with some of it on the way to school.

I am about to reach forward and put my computer back on sleep mode when I notice a new email just before my finger hits the button. Glancing up at the screen, I notice that the folder this new email drops into has the title “Ghost”.

I blink. I am stunned. My eyes grow wide as I lean back in my chair again.

Well, I sit corrected. This has my attention, and for very good reason. Whatever Mother has to say to me, I care about that too, but this email almost terrifies me.

“Ghost” is like a secret agent at school who is exceptionally good at sleuthing. He really does have the talent to make it as a big-time secret government agent. Part of me thinks he is one already. Sometimes his tactics are quite bold and odd, but that's what also makes him brilliant.

But that is not what scares me. What scares me is the fact I sent him on a very critical mission, and now it seems he has something to report. If he is successful, it could mean very big things for me. It means more opportunity and power for me but at a cost. A cost that I need to measure very carefully because it means betraying someone I actually care about.

I rub my lips in deep thought as I continue to eye the screen nervously.

I am a master chess player, so I know the necessity to make certain sacrifices in life in order to accomplish larger agendas. My mind is telling me the smart play here, but my heart hesitates.

I am not sure if this is the right move, and I usually do not second-guess myself like this. Usually I keep my pesky emotions out of my business, but this one is a big deal.

Part of me hopes that Ghost reports that his mission is a failure. It would mean lost opportunities for me, but at least my conscience would be off the hook.

There is an advantage in the failure of this mission from a tactical standpoint, too. If I don't betray the one I'm thinking of, then I get to keep her in my life, and she's useful.

But she's also a threat to me. One touch of her magic hands could unravel all of my brilliant schemes, including my more devious ones.

Damn it!

I pull my legs up on my seat and hug them close to my chest. I rest my chin on top of my knees as I lean forward a bit.

I really don't want to hurt her. She's been such a good friend to me and my mother.

I shake my head, then sigh.

I resume reaching forward to hit the “sleep” button on the computer keyboard, deciding to deal with all of this later.

For now, I have forty-two minutes left to shower and get dressed, and I'm a girl. I need every second I can get to prepare for school and then some, for I'm just as tidy with my own appearance as I am with anything else in my life.

After all, I am an officially elected leader. I’ve got to keep the morale of the troops up, and that means remaining prepared and presentable. If I'm going to be strict but fair with my own subordinates, then I must hold the same standard for myself.
> Chapter Three: Unexpected Visitor
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Three minutes left.

Okay, now I'm stressed. I'm not finished getting ready, and yet I want to take the time to get everything right. I fix every wrinkle in my fluffy, teal miniskirt that extended to my mid thigh. I straighten my white blouse with duel red shoulder straps. I button my blouse to perfection. My long white socks are tall and straight. My black shoes with thin black buckle strap over the top are secured neatly. My nails are . . . (sigh) . . . less than perfect but I suppose it has to do because I am out of time.

I hate that feeling! It galls me not to get everything right.

I look at the tall mirror on my door which is facing inward towards the room. I lean forward to get a close look at my face and hair. I have teal colored hair that's curled in many fluffy spiral loops. I have a yellow headband on top of my head that has the image of a red rook chess piece on both sides near and behind my ears. My eyes are reddish-brown, but my eyelids could use a touch of blush. I spend a few minutes touching it up, then glance at the time. I frown.

Damn it! Now a minute late. I hate that! Sometimes it's quite a curse to be a girl.

I'm not even done yet.

Looking back at the mirror, I give my cheeks a slight rosy blush. I examine my symmetrical dimples on each of my cheeks. They look . . . okay for now.

I wish I had more time!

On the other hand, I am pretty much done. I step back from the mirror and examine myself from head to toe. Despite being a senior in High School, I'm still pretty petite and cute. I could almost pass for a younger age, especially with my appearance and attire, but it looks professional, too. A little childish but my fellow students are used to that.

Still, I normally spend much more time on this, for appearances are very important to me. Whatever business my mother has in mind, it had better be pretty damn important because this interruption has thrown a wrench into my day at a very early point of it. It surprises me how much a few minutes can throw me off. Maybe I need to wake up even earlier. 6:00 AM? 5:45 AM?

But that would only give me six hours of sleep on average.

My eyelids droop halfway down as I continue to examine myself.

Sleep? Who needs sleep? I have an Empire to forge.

I know I got my schedule full to the brim, but that's the price of high ambitions. To make it big in this world, I have to work very hard for it.

I slap my cheeks lightly as I continue to examine myself in the mirror.

“You got this, Cozy,” I say aloud to myself. “The world is your oyster. You'll only get the power you deserve to receive, so make it happen.”

Among the final preparations I make before leaving my room is strapping my, which is disguiased as a cute red bow, I strap my fanny pack to my waist. Within it is a potentially critical preparation for my medical needs. In this case, it is a shot of insulin which several staff members at my school, and even a few students, know how to use, in case of an emergency. Once I have this on, I twist the red bow tie end of it behind me at the small of my back.

Next, I swipe up my augmented-reality glasses from a wireless charging station on my desk. I put them on and look at myself in the mirror. I adjust the glasses slightly, but it is hard to get plain-looking glasses like these wrong. They are just black-rimmed glasses with somewhat thick stems, and that was because it is actually an electronic device that syncs to my cellphone via bluetooth. The glasses secretly project a holographic-looking transparent screen floating in my vision (if I activate them, that is), but it can only be seen on one side of the glasses. Anyone looking towards the glasses cannot see what the digital screen projects. It is like a one-way mirror.

In addition, those lenses can adjust each side of the inward screen in order to correct my vision automatically according to a frequent scan of my eyes.

I admit, they do make me look a bit nerdy which is a bit damaging on the cute motif I am generally going for, but I've accepted this with a shrug because of the hidden advantages involved.

Besides, nobody argues against this considering the fact that I'm the daughter of Twilight Sparkle, the Principal of Canterlot High. Nerdiness simply comes with the territory, and knowledge is power. The more power I accumulate, the closer I am to meeting my grand ambitions.

As a final note of preparation, I grab my purse and strap it on, then I'm finally off.

Glancing at my watch on my left wrist, I see that I am three minutes behind schedule. It feels like an eternity. Such flaws in my schedule are highly grating. This definitely needs some work in the future.





* * *





Along my way to the kitchen, I am accosted by our robot pet dog, K-9. It’s digital barking sound begs for my attention until I pause for a brief moment to bend down and pet it. The round dome of its head detects the touch of my hand like a touch screen on a cellphone. The digital screen of its reddish alarm clock-like eyes change from open to shut in happy pleasure for the attention.

The dog moans a bit when I stand back up and resume my journey to the kitchen. I regret having to abandon it, but I’m running late enough as it is.

“You're three minutes and forty-seven seconds late,” my mother lightly scolds me as I enter the kitchen. She sat on one of the high dining chairs in the center of the room. She rests her elbows on a rectangular wooden table. Despite being Principal of Canterlot High, she is still fond of wearing a white scientist’s lab coat. She has her hair neatly tied up into a single, long ponytail with a purple bow. She regards me with a soft smile while sipping from her coffee mug. The steam of the hot cup of coffee momentarily fogs her own nerdy augmented-reality glasses.

“Yeah, I know!” I agree with frustration as I enter the room and put my purse on one of the empty seats. I see a cup of jasmine tea on the table, courtesy of my mother’s anticipation of my arrival to the kitchen.

What a sweetheart!

However, I don't appreciate rushing in the morning. That screws up my whole daily routine.

“I tried to get things settled as quickly as possible, but . . .” I trail off when I notice we have an unexpected visitor in our kitchen, and she looks very familiar. Impossibly familiar.

Sitting across from my mother was . . . my mother? Like an identical twin?

No, wait! Upon closer examination, I realize there are some differences between the two. Their faces perfectly match, but the other “Twilight” did not wear glasses at all. Her outfit is also a little bit regal looking. Rarity would probably be proud of it. Also her hair is long and straight, which more clearly shows the single brighter purple streak running through her hair.

“Uh . . .” I look taken aback, “. . . Princess Twilight Sparkle . . . I presume?” I ask tentatively.

It's just a guess, but a very logical one considering the information I have on hand.

Before now, I have been told many stories over the years by my mother and some of her friends about a parallel, magical world where sentient, magical talking horses, of all things, are the most predominant species.

I admit, I did question my mother's sanity when she first mentioned it, but she had more than enough evidence of Horse-Land magic to help verify her claims. Her ability to levitate objects within a magical purple aura with a supposedly magical gem she and her friends found in Camp Everfree, was enough to convince me that she is not entirely insane.

Instead, I had to question my own sanity when I first witnessed this.

I was surprised even further when I found out that this is common knowledge to many of her former schoolmates and old faculty members of Canterlot High.

“Um . . . yeah. Pleased to meet you . . . Cozy Glow,” Princess Twilight said to me very nervously. As in, suspiciously nervously.

That reaction immediately sounded warning bells in my head.

Why? Why is this version of my mother afraid of me? Did I do something wrong? As far as I know, we just met!

Or, more likely, this has something to do with my pony counterpart.

This is the first time I met Princess Twilight, though I heard of her many times from my mother and her friends. Sunset Shimmer even has a magical laptop computer that can communicate to Princess Twilight in Horse-Land at any time. I was told that this technology is a replacement for an old and outdated system of a magical copying textbook.

The thing is, because I never met Princess Twilight, she should be just as ignorant about me, other than maybe what my mother and Sunset told her . . . but there is something in her eyes that not only suggests familiarity, but fear.

Damn it! I don't like this. This is a new anomaly that I have no calculations for. As a result, I can't accurately predict where this is going.

Worse, this version of my mother seems to have a somewhat negative opinion of me. If that attitude of hers affects my mother then . . .

I shake my head. That thought led down avenues too painful to contemplate to its fullest.

Huh. I'm going to have to study this new threat carefully. I desperately need more information.

“I take it that this,” I nod at the Princess while I look at my mother, “is the reason you called me down here so early in the morning?”

As I say that, I move to sit in one of the elevated chairs, thus joining the two of them at the table. In this case, Princess Twilight is sitting two spaces further to my right. Mom is sitting across from me and also two spaces to my right.

While my mother answers, I absently stir my tea with a tiny silver spoon.

“Yes, and to announce the fact that I'll not be attending school today for the foreseeable future. I've already called the Vice Principal and informed him of the situation. He assures me that he understands and will take care of everything at Canterlot High while I'm gone.”

“Gone?” I ask in alarm. “Going where? To Horse-Land?”

“It's called Equestria,” Princess Twilight corrects me.

I quickly look at her to assess her. Princess Twilight's voice sounds casual when she speaks. She is also sipping some kind of drink but, whatever it is, it isn't hot. I have a funny feeling that it is carrot juice. I’ve noticed that Mom keeps an extra stock of that in the fridge as if preparing for the possible arrival of her pony friends at any time.

Princess Twilight looks pretty calm for the most part. Obviously her years spent as a Princess in Canterlot have refined her social graces, but I have a keen sense of observation. I did detect a few nervous signs from her, such as tiny beads of sweat on her brow. That could suggest that she is just hot, but that does not add up with the other pieces of evidence I've gathered on her so far.

“I've told her that many times, yet she still insists on calling it ‘Horse-Land,’” my mother informs Princess Twilight with a cute, nerdy, amusing snicker that makes her snort a bit.

“Very amusing,” Princess Twilight said a bit emptily while trying to keep her facial expression carefully neutral.

“And yes,” mother confirms as she looks to me, winning back my attention. “I am going to 'Horse-Land', as you call it, for the foreseeable future.”

“Whatever this mission is . . . is it dangerous?” I ask Princess Twilight in concern.

For the first time, Princess Twilight regards me in positive surprise. I said something she did not expect but, whatever it is, she approves of it. From what I gather based on what I said, I think she's responding positively to my concern about my mother.

Noticing that made me angry, but I hide it well.

Princess Twilight is surprised that I have concern for the very woman who adopted me and gave me a beautiful home? Why? Does she think I’m some kind of monster?

My eyes shrink slightly as I realize something while I continue to regard her.

Wait a second! That's exactly it! She thinks I'm a monster because of something the pony version of me did!

“No, no, Cozy! No!” Princess Twilight strongly assures. She sounds very happy to report that news. She leans slightly towards me as if to emphasize her next point more. “I would never endanger your mother on purpose without a good reason. Fortunately, in this case, the thing I have in mind is far from dangerous.”

“Then why do you need her?” I ask in confusion. “Surely you have many pony citizens you can call upon as Princess of Horse-Land. Surely one of them could . . .” I trail off as my eyes glaze when I realize what's going on. “Unless it has to do with something that only exists in the human world.” My eyes focus back on Princess Twilight. “That's it, isn't it? Does it have something to do with the communication device you put in Sunset's computer?”

“Uh, yeah. Something like that,” Princess Twilight agrees as she looks a little evasive again. She lifts up her cup (of carrot juice?) and sips on it. The look on her face seems to indicate hope that I drop this uncomfortable subject for her.

But this is my mother she's talking about, one of the most precious persons in the world to me.

“Well,” I adjust my glasses a bit, “I'm pretty good at computers too. I think I might be able to handle your problem if it's a software issue.”

“It's not,” my mother assures me then sips her coffee.

Princess Twilight sighs since one of her hopes is already dashed, so she said, “That computer I have in my world had to be built from scratch. Just like we are transformed as we cross through the trans-dimensional barrier, our gear is as well.

“I actually tried to take a cellphone with me through the barrier once. It became a book on the other side. I'm not complaining too much with the results. You may not know this about me, but I love books!

“This one, however, seemed to be filled with nothing but gibberish to me. Gibberish that only your mother seemed to be able to make heads or tails of.

“Needless to say,” Princess Twilight grins as she lifts her cup, “that 'book' had pretty poor cellphone reception in Equestria.”

“The book’s contents were made up of the cellphones digital software written in code,” Mother explains to me. “A lot of it was simply written in binary.”

“Did you test what happens if the 'book' is transferred back to our world?” I ask curiously.

“Of course I did!” my mother firmly assures me. “Any good scientist would test their hypothesis to its logical conclusion. 

“We did transfer the book back to our world, much as you have suggested, and it became a cellphone again. Notably, a very glitchy cellphone. The operating system on it got badly corrupted on its return trip, along with all other data on it. I copied it over to an external hard drive and tried my best to work with it. Not only does the software seem to be missing a lot of code, but the ones it has seemed a bit mixed. I was able to reset the phone back to factory settings later on. It needed a new software update to correct the glitches on its BIOS. Once that was done, the phone worked good as new, but at the cost of all of its previous data.”

“We think some information got lost when it transformed into a book,” Twilight put in. “It's as if the book physically wasn't big enough to contain all that data the cellphone had.”

“I would imagine so,” I agree with Princess Twilight. “Even a dumb phone on the market can have more data than an average book you can hold in your hands, or . . . hooves, as it were.”

Something I said made Princess Twilight snicker.

“What?” I ask curiously and slightly accusingly.

“Cozy, you're so adorable!” Princess Twilight said with a smile at me. “I'm really glad to meet you at last. Your mother has been telling me great things about you.”

“Like what?” I ask in a polite attempt to fish for more information.

“Well,” she shrugs, “among the things that I’ve learned about you from her is that you are a great assistant to her, you are Student Council President, you help her a lot around the house, you're wonderful with chess,  and you play the violin.”

“Tournament good,” my mother added proudly. “Even national tournament good. My daughter is so amazing! I can't wait to see what else she'll accomplish when she grows up.”

“Yeah!” Princess Twilight laughs a bit nervously. “Imagine that.” I notice how Twilight shuts down a bit after that. Talking about my abilities made her nervous for some reason.

I narrow my eyes slightly at Twilight, then ask out of the blue, “So . . . I take it my pony counterpart is a unicorn in your reality?”

Princess Twilight immediately shakes her head in objection, but she did not verbally correct me until she set her cup down. “No, Cozy. Pegasus, actually.”

Okay, now it's absolutely confirmed. Twilight has indeed met my pony counterpart, and that prior experience scared her. She would not know what breed of pony my pony self is unless they met each other.

Also, pegasus? Really? Everything about me in this reality stretches as close to magical as this world can get. The things I can do with computers and people are kind of magical.

“Oh! Well . . . that's cool too, I guess,” I say a bit emptily. Although, on second thought . . .

“Hey!” I cheer brightly as I get an idea, then look back and forth between Twilight and my mother. “Take me with you! I want to see what my body looks like on the other side!” I then focus on Twilight. “You're an alicorn, right? That means you have both a horn and wings?”

“Um, yeah. That's true, although I wasn't born with the wings,” Princess Twilight informed.

“Then you can teach me how to fly on the other side!” I cry out in excitement, and I am not faking! This idea sounds really thrilling to me.

“Ah . . . no. I don't think so,” Princess Twilight denies.

“Aw.” I look, and am, exceedingly disappointed with that answer. “Why not?”

“Because you have school today and many duties to perform,” my mother reminds me.

I squint an eye at my mother. “Really?! You're going to play that card on me right now?

“Look, my work here in this world is something I truly do take very seriously but what can I possibly learn in school today that can't be matched or surpassed by even one day exploring a whole another alien world? I'd get ten times more learning experience from this than anything I'd ever learn in school in a whole year!”

“Your education here in this world is very important,” Princess Twilight said in an insistent, slightly authoritative voice. “I don't blame you for being curious about my world. In fact, I kind of admire that, but the lessons you'd learn in my world would only benefit you there. We both have very different worlds in many regards. They are similar in some ways, including the most important ways-”

“-like friendship,” my mother chimes in.

“Uh . . . right!” pony Twilight enthusiastically agreed. “Like friendship! That, at least, seems to be a universal language between our two worlds.”

Princess Twilight turns to look at me. “But, in my world, you won't learn about computers or the internet or all of the very special things that only exist here.

“Sure, some of us can fly in my world and some of us have magic but here . . . what you can do is available to everypony!”

I snicker slightly at her wording, and she notices that.

She responds with a grin, then says, “In your world, you have vast machines that can transport many people across the world in a fraction of the time that we can with our hot air balloons. You have buildings artificially conditioned with cooler or hotter temperatures.

“In many ways, I'm jealous of you, Cozy Glow. You get to grow up in a structured world.”

I am tempted to say that I beg to differ, but I keep my mouth shut on that.

Then I thought about her words more. For everything she said my world has, I try to imagine my world without the things she listed. I very quickly realize that the kind of technology level it sounds like she has pushes her world back to the Victorian era somewhere.

This world was certainly less pleasant for members of my gender back during the same time era. As much as I see so many flaws in my world now, I've got to admit that we live like kings and queens compared to the vast majority of people less than a century ago.

However, Twilight's society seems more like a Matriarchal system, which makes me more than a little curious to experience what that is like.

Of course, I realize that pony Twilight is pushing me away from exploring her world on purpose for some reason, and I cannot shake the feeling that it has something to do with my pony counterpart. Twilight is afraid of her, true, but perhaps she is more afraid if the two of us meet each other. Does she think my pony self would be a bad influence on me? Surely it couldn’t be the other way around, could it?

I notice that Princess Twilight is being very evasive about certain details. I’m aware of how she attempts to distract me with certain kinds of answers while shutting down some of my questions.

Twilight definitely does not want me to visit Horse-Land, and yet she has no problem inviting my mother. This means there is nothing wrong with her world itself, at least not for the moment. The problem has something to do with me specifically.

“But . . . mom, how am I going to get to school without you?” After I ask her that, I inwardly wince at myself. I'm reaching, I know, but I feel desperate.

If I could just calm down and think this through rationally, I might be able to come up with a better excuse.

If push came to shove, I could just take the bus to school but I would be quite late at this point.

“Oh!” My mother looks at me as if I had a good point, and for a brief moment that gave me hope, but then she said, “I forgot to tell you, I already called Sunset Shimmer about that. She's on her way here right now to pick you up.”

“Really? Sunny is coming here?” Princess Twilight asks my mom in delight.

“Um, yes.” After my mother answers, she adjusts her glasses a bit. “We can stay for a few more minutes if you want to say hi to her, but the sooner we get on with our mission, the sooner I'll be done. You may have duties to perform as Princess of Equestria, but I have my life and obligations as well. I can't set aside everything for you all the time, I hope you know, regardless of how fondly I think of you.”

“Oh, I know,” Princess Twilight said with a bit of regret. “I'm really sorry for troubling you with this, but there really is nopony else I can ask. Nopony in my world knows your technology better than you do, especially not magical technology. I do have some talent in it myself,” Twilight bragged as she placed a hand on her chest, “especially the magic part, but we have to work together to solve this kind of problem. If we don't, you know what could happen.”

“Does this have something to do with the portal between our two worlds in our basement?” I ask in the hopes to probe for more details. “Please, you two, be straight with me. I can take it.”

For a moment they glance at each other as if silently debating something, then Twilight sighs as she says, “Yes, Cozy, that's exactly it . . . but it's a little more involved than that.

“You see, ever since the statue at Canterlot High got damaged, it has been leaking Equestrian magic into your world.

“It took us a long time to discover that. Fortunately, I had your mother's help in that regard. She was the one that really narrowed it down.”

For a while, my mother spouts a bunch of technobabble to explain how she did it. She also does it so fast that even my head starts spinning. That is not an easy thing to do.

“Uh, yeah . . . what she said,” Princess Twilight agrees lamely.

“Anyway,” Princess Twilight focuses back on me, and I to her. “Ever since then, we sealed up the leak on the statue by redirecting it to the more stable portal in the basement here, but then we discovered there were other places throughout both of our worlds where magic leaks through. We've been attempting to patch things up, and we’ve definitely made some progress, but it's been very slow going lately.”

“Which means,” my mother adjusts her glasses again, “Princess Twilight wants my help to construct a device which could help her in locating more of the leaks. If we can find that, then we can patch up all of the remaining sources of leaks on both sides. If we do so, we won't accidentally get more magical menaces in our world like we had before.”

“You mean like your magical necklace that lets you basically use telekinesis?” I remind my mother. “Also, will that thing still continue to function if you seal up all the leaks?”

“Well, yeah, magic can do that,” my mother agrees, “but it can also turn those who are not prepared for it into a monster. You've heard about Juniper Montage, or Gloriosa at Camp Everfree, or even me!”

“I'm sorry about that,” Princess Twilight said to her counterpart with deep regret. “I really wish you didn't have to suffer like that, but that's exactly why we're trying to get these leaks under control. Magic,” she shakes her head, “isn't really meant for this world.”

“Oh, we've done alright for ourselves,” my mother argues, ironically, with herself in a way.

“Nevertheless,” my mother resumes, “I do agree that we should do everything in our combined power to help contain the situation more. If we do, we might not even need superpowers anymore because no would-be villain will use them against us, either. Things should return back to the way they were before, except better since I've also discovered dear friends during this journey.”

Princess Twilight smiles brightly as she says, “That part, at least, I am infinitely grateful for. My friends have been an immeasurable blessing in my life. I can't imagine my life without them. To see you blessed with the same fate really warms my heart. I'm so glad you all met each other.”

Mother smiles brightly in return as she says, “Me, too.”

The front doorbell rang.

“I'll get it!” I volunteer. I climb down the seat then quickly race across the house to answer the door.

Along the way, I overhear something that I find startlingly poignant.

“She really does come across as a sweet and innocent girl, doesn’t she?” presumably Princess Twilight asks my mother, but since they both have the same voice, it is a little hard to tell the difference without watching them speak.

“Oh, the best!” the other woman, most likely my mother, agrees. “You have no idea how proud I am of her.”

I find my mother's words reassuring.

I open the door. As I expect, I behold Sunset Shimmer.

At first Sunset looks at her motorcycle behind her, but then she turns to regard me after I open the door. 

I assess her.

Today, Sunset is wearing denim jean pants and wore her practically trademark black leather jacket. In one of her hands, she also is holding her motorcycle helmet.

“Good morning, Cozy Glow!” Sunset greets me brightly. “May I come in?”

“Good morning, Professor Sunny, and yes.” I step aside. “Please do come in. We have a surprise guest here that I think may interest you.”

“Oh? Is that so?” Sunset asks curiously as she cocks her head.

“Yes. She's in the kitchen,” I inform her.

“Is your mother still here?” Sunset asks as she steps inside and shuts the front door behind her with a gentle backwards kick. “She told me that you needed to be picked up for school today, so I brought an extra helmet for you, but she informed me little else. For example, she did not inform me why she is calling upon me.”

“Oh, shoot. The helmet. I forgot about that.” I frown, then gently pat my hair. “That's going to mess up my hair.”

“You do have a brush or comb in your purse, don't you?” Sunset checks. “If not, I believe I can lend you one before you get to class.”

“I do. It's just . . . I don't like it when anything tries to mess with my hair. It takes me a long time to get it just right.”

Sunset looked over my curly hair, then nodded in agreement. “I imagine so. Sorry about that, but the motorcycle is all I got. I can't afford much on a teacher’s salary, but a motorcycle definitely helps save on gas. That can be so important with gas prices these days.”

“I'll take your word for it,” I partially agree.

“Sunny! Please come into the kitchen and meet someone!” my mother calls aloud, still within the kitchen.

“Sure. Coming.”

Sunset does so. She enters the kitchen.

“Good morning, Twilight!” Sunset greets her friend happily, then looks in surprise at the other woman. “Or should I say . . . Twilights.”

Princess Twilight Sparkle hops off her seat, approaches Sunset Shimmer and gives her a warm hug which she gladly returns.

Meanwhile I observe this in the living room, silentlygathering data.

“It's so good to see you again, Sunset Shimmer! I missed you so much!” Princess Twilight squeals a bit as she squeezes her friend in her hug.

“It's good to see you too, Twilight,” Sunset Shimmer says warmly in return, and I notice the fact she did not call her friend “Princess Twilight” or “Your Majesty”. Instead, the greeting is much more personal. I have a distinct feeling that Princess Twilight had requested that her personal friends dispense with formal, royal titles.

When they part from their hug, Sunset asks, “How is life treating you in Equestria? Is life as a Princess in Canterlot all that you expected?”

“Expected? Um,” pony Twilight thinks for a moment, then absently shrugs. “Eh. I guess you can say that, because I did expect some surprises.

“Overall, however, it's mostly just boring and stately, superficial stuff. 

“I'm always pleased when my friends come over to visit me. I think,” she taps her lips, “I especially look forward to Pinkie Pie’s visits because she brings sweets with her.” Twilight waved Sunset off. “But, of course, I love all my friends so it's always good to see them, you included.”

“Um,” Sunset Shimmer shifts a finger back and forth between both Twilights, “I take it that this meeting has to do with that, um,” she spares a quick glance at me, then looks back at Twilight as she says bit more quietly with the back of her hand against her mouth, “thing we discussed earlier?”

Oh! Now I feel REALLY paranoid!

“It's okay, Sunset, she knows,” Princess Twilight said with another dismissive wave. “And yes, that's exactly what I've come to collect my lovely sister for.”

“Sisters,” Sunny says with a happy grin. “Yeah! I like that term. Very appropriate.”

“My other sister, Princess Cadance, proposed the idea first,” pony Twilight announces. “I thought it was a good idea, so I went for it.”

“Well,” Sunset raises her hands to her hips, “at least our worlds didn't blow up with you meeting each other,” Sunny says as she looks back and forth between Twilight and my mother. “Some had feared that was a possibility for some strange reason.”

To even propose that idea at all made Princess Twilight laugh nervously, then say, “Yeah. Heh-heh. Huh. Imagine that.” She rubs the back of her neck.

“Well, it's great to see you again, Twilight, but I really need to get to school and drag this little munchkin along with me.” As Sunset says that, she sounds a little reluctant to depart, but necessity drives her on.

“Yeah, of course,” pony Twilight agrees a little sadly. “School is important. You don't want to be late, nor make her late either.” 

Princess Twilight then regards me. “As I said earlier, it's finally nice to meet you, Cozy! I hope you continue to have a happy and wonderful life with your new mother.”

“Um, gee-golly! That sure is swell. Thanks for the sentiment, Your Majesty. That really makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside,” I say insincerely with a bright, happy, fake smile that tends to fool most others.

Deep down, however, I do not really believe her. She is up to something. I just know it. Whatever it is, it's making me very uncomfortable.

And nobody would like me when I'm uncomfortable!
> Chapter Four: Ride with an Angel
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

I walk outside while I wait for Sunset to catch up. She lingers behind me, still in the house, saying goodbye to the rest of her friends.

Meanwhile, I am shaking with fear and fury. Since my back is to them, I do not hide my true feelings on my face for the moment. My fists clench and shake to my sides. My eyes narrow as I glare forward with anger.

What are you up to, Twilight Sparkle? Why are you trying to take my mother away from me? What did I ever do to you?

Probably nothing, at least not directly, but Twilight fears that I might do to my mother, or any of her friends, what my counterpart must have done in her own Horse-Land universe.

Whatever it is, I want to deny it but, in truth, I actually do have some dark ambitions in my world. Things that need correcting. Wrongs that must be set right.

If Twilight decides to warn Sunset about her foreboding feelings and Sunset uses her magical mind-reading powers, it's all over. Everything that I've built up for years may be ruined.

I cannot let that happen! Princess Twilight Sparkle must be stopped!

I close my eyes and bow my head as I seethe in anger.

I don't know what it is that has you so worked up about me, Twilight, but I cannot let you interfere with my plans. You think you are afraid of me now? Just wait till you see what I'm really capable of! I'll give you a reason to fear me, and more!

“Okay, then. You ready to go there, Squirt?” Sunset asks in a friendly tone as she approaches behind me.

I open my eyes as I glare forward once again, then that expression instantly wipes away as I turn to face her, replaced with a smile so wide that I close my eyes.

“Golly-gumdrops, Professor! I sure am!” I say brightly.

“Here.” Sunset Shimmer thrusts another helmet at me. In this case, a black helmet with red flames streaming back on the sides of it. “Put this on. I know it sucks considering your hair-do, but it is the law.”

“Yeah. I'm aware of that,” I say a little morosely. Before I accept it, I stare a bit trepidatiously at her hand that's offering the helmet for a moment.

Just one touch . . .

“Um, gee-whiz, Professor, do you still have that pretty little stone on you?” I ask her in a hopeful voice. “I'd sure love to see it again, if you do.”

“Huh?” She tilts her head to her side in momentary confusion, then she realizes something. “Oh! Do you mean my magic stone?”

“Uh-huh!” I nod enthusiastically. “Horse-Land magic fascinates me! After seeing your old friend Princess Twilight, it reminded me of those pretty stones. Can I see yours?”

Meanwhile, before she says anything, I take a split-second to contemplate an excuse to ditch her if she does indeed reveal the stone.

I calm down when I notice Sunset look apologetic, then she says, “I'm sorry, Cozy, but I don't have it on me. As a matter of fact, I'm not allowed to bring it to campus anymore now that I work there as a teacher. It's considered an ethical violation of the students' privacy. Also, many citizens in town are really paranoid about Equestrian magic.

“Look,” she leans down over me a bit, placing her hand, which is still holding her helmet, on her knees in the process. “I love that you are fascinated with Equestrian magic. If it were up to me, I'd teach you everything you want to know about it. Hell, I'd even teach you how to use it if it were possible. Like, say, if you were a unicorn.”

Sunset reaches forward with her free hand and gently pats my head. I try hard to resist flinching at her touch, and I believe I succeed. Sunset doesn't seem the wiser.

“Alas, we can't do that in our circumstances. What with some parents being all up in arms about Equestrian magic or the fact that you are not a unicorn.”

My eyes shift to my side for a brief moment as a jealous pang hits me while I say, “Princess Twilight Sparkle says that my pony counterpart is a pegasus. I guess that means I'll never know magic on that level.”

“That's not true!” Sunset argues.

I look back at her in surprise. “It isn't?”

“Sure, she might be a pegasus, but you can be anything you want to be, Cozy Glow. You are your own unique individual.

“Your soul radiates with your own special light and song. If you want to experience Equestrian magic,” she pressed her free hand firmly into my chest, “then feel it here, inside of you. Magic exists within us all, Cozy, so it's inside you too.

“You're a very special girl, Cozy, and you're going to make an amazing woman someday. When the world sees what you can really do, the light that shines in your heart will brilliantly beam for all to see!”

“You really mean that, Professor?” I ask her hopefully.

Sunset stands up straight as she says, “Absolutely! I mean that with all of my heart!”

Okay, this is why Professor Sunset Shimmer is considered one of the coolest professors in Canterlot High. There really is a magical quality to her presence and her absolutely genuine, radiant smile she passes onto others that makes people feel like they can fly too.

Just like a pegasus.

She offers the helmet to me again, but does not insist. She does not press it against me, it is merely held in front of me. It is just a choice.

I take the helmet.

“Thank you, Professor, for believing in me. I mean that from the bottom of my fuzzy-wuzzy little heart,” I happily and sincerely express to her. “You make us all feel special, which is exactly what's special about you.”

“Hey! It's my job to inspire young minds to be their best, and I know you're going to continue to be amazing! It really is an honor for me to watch you grow up, Cozy Glow.”

I smile at her very warmly.

“Not to mention,” she thumbs to my house behind her, “there is the fact that you make my friend here overwhelmingly happy and proud of you every single day. That alone is a big plus in my book. You really do complete her, Cozy. I'm so happy to see that!”

“I feel the same way,” I say as I lower my gaze to my feet and shuffle them a bit. Being hyper sincere always bothers me for some reason, almost as if it is a sign of weakness or makes me vulnerable somehow.

“I know you do,” Sunset agrees. “Which is why I'm so happy to see you together whenever I can.

“So come on! Let's get to school together and see what else we can learn today.”

For a brief moment I look up at her with sadness and regret, but I quickly wash it away behind a semi-fake and bright smile. “Sure thing, Professor!”





* * *





My glasses are not a computer unto themselves, but it can connect to one. Via that link, I am able to see any information that my cellphone has on it. While I ride with Professor Sunset Shimmer, however, I grow content to just listen to music instead. Not only can my glasses reveal hidden information only to the wearer of them, but it also sonically vibrates the ear canals just above the ear. Because of that, I could intensely hear what the glasses projected, but no one else has a chance to.

I blink twice rapidly. That made the glasses engage eye tracking mode. During that time, I see a red dot directly on whatever menu I happen to be staring at. Just like a mouse, blinking my right eye during this mode does the equivalent of a right mouse click while blinking my left eye does a left click. Using this method, I navigate to one of the earlier songs recorded by the Dazzlings, then I left “blink” at it in order to play it. Once that is done, I blink twice to turn eye tracking mode of the glasses back off.





“(Sung by all three Dazzlings): Oh-whoa-oh, oh-whoa-oh

	You didn't know that you fell

	Oh-whoa-oh, oh-whoa-oh.





(Adagio only): Now that you're under our spell.”





I close my eyes and imagine dancing in front of the Dazzlings, except they are my backup dancers and singers. Meanwhile, I am the one swaying my hips and posing in front of an enthralled, cheering crowd.





“(Adagio): Blindsided by the beat

	Clapping your hands, stomping your feet

	You didn't know that you fell





(Dazzlings): Oh-whoa-oh . . . oh-oh





(Adagio): Now you've fallen under our spell.”





I feel the beat and continue to sway my hips hypnotically in front of the crowd in my mind. The crowd falls under my spell, leaving me with the thrill of feeling in absolute control. The wills and minds of the crowd are mine to command, ready to be molded like clay. If they are all going to be stupid, mindless sheep anyway, then they might as well be led by someone who can bring them greater prosperity in the long run.

Just like the lead singer Adagio Dazzle, my mental projection slowly and seductively waves my hands in front of the crowd. As I do so, I behold that the crowd is enchanted as they look upon me and the Dazzlings behind me. I can feel my ego swell as the welling of power rises up from the pit of my stomach.





“(Dazzlings): Oh-whoa-oh . . . oh-oh-oh.





We've got the music, makes you move it

	Got the song that makes you lose it

	We say 'jump', you say 'how high?'

	Put your hands up to the sky.”





The song repeats some of the lyrics in my head, vibrating on me due to the glasses. As the song continues, so does my daydream.

The daydream later breaks somewhat when we reach a red light. Since my head is turned to the side and looking to my right, I behold a reflection of us from a window on a building. I marvel at the image of myself hugging Sunset Shimmer from behind. As I gaze upon that reflection, I feel pleasure because of how cute I actually look while holding her that way. At the same time, the imagery reminds me of how much I love her.

There is an irony to the fact that I identify so much with the songs, feelings and power of one of Sunset Shimmer's numerous enemies, and yet I am hugging this woman who defeated the Dazzlings for real, and I am doing it with all sincerity. I admire Sunset for her earlier victories because I also respect her opponents in this case. They were powerful. In order to beat them, it must have taken incredible willpower, but Sunset managed it. That is how strong old Shimmy really is.

And now I'm holding her. Hugging her from behind. It makes me feel so happy!

I momentarily squeeze Sunset in loving appreciation. In response, she looks over her right shoulder at me. From her angle, she probably barely saw the edge of my helmet, but as I look back up at her, I see that same warm and friendly smile that always sets my soul ablaze.



* * *





Sunset Shimmer drops me off a few blocks from school. I climb off her motorcycle and hand back the helmet she loaned me. While she secures the spare helmet on her bike, I pull out my cellphone from my purse, the very same cellphone that my glasses have a bluetooth connection to.

The cellphone itself has a rubber case around it that makes it look like a Care Bear with the cellphone screen being the belly of the beast. Once I activate the screen, I enable camera mode and direct it inward towards the user of the phone. That, in turn, gives me a sort of mirror to work with as I pat my head in an attempt to assess the damage to my curly hair, maybe even repair some of the damage.

“I'm sorry to drop you off here but, since I'm not your mother, it might not look too good if I drive onto campus while hauling a student from our school. It might give others the wrong impression,” Sunset explains as an apology.

“Oh, I know, Professor. That's why I didn't ask.”

I tilt my head from side to side and also turn my head left and right. It surprises me to find that very little damage control is necessary for my hair. It seems we got lucky this time.

Looks good.

Finishing, I return my cellphone back to my purse then regard Sunset Shimmer who is still in front of me as if waiting for something. Hell if I know what.

“You okay, Professor?”

“I was wondering about you.”

I tilt my head at her in confusion. “Really? Why the concern, Professor?”

Sunset shook her head. “I don't know. It's just a feeling.”

At first she is looking down, then focuses on me with a bit of a grin. “I bet it was radical to see two versions of your mother sitting in the kitchen this morning.”

I take a deep breath then release it slowly, hissing through my teeth in the process, then I say, “Yeah. I'll admit that one caught me off guard this morning, but I was aware of the existence of the pony version of my mother for years now.

“This sure is swell, like something out of a fairy-tale. My mother is a princess in another magical land of horses? I didn't believe it at first but, when she gave me evidence, I felt more than a little giddy at this discovery.

“My mother already felt so dear to my heart when she adopted me. It felt like overkill to discover even more evidence of why she's so special. I don't know why she chose to accept me into her home but I am infinitely grateful.”

“She accepted you because you're special too, Cozy!” Sunset assures me warmly. “Take heart in that because it's true.”

“Oh golly! Gee-whiz!” I fold my hands behind my back and tilt my body slightly, now leaning more on my left foot and partially aiming my left shoulder at her. From there, I sway slightly. “Thanks, Professor! You really are the coolest teacher in the world aside from my mother. I really mean that!”

I really do.

“It's the truth,” Sunset said casually with a simple shrug, then she realizes something. “Uh . . . I mean about the part of you being special . . . although the other thing you said is also true. I am pretty darn cool, aren't I?”

“Yes indeedy!” I cheer so brightly that I close my eyes for a brief moment.

Sunset seems to look across the gauges on her motorcycle as if assessing something about it, but I can tell she is thinking inwardly about something else. I have the feeling that whatever information Twilight was withholding from me, Sunset might be aware of it as well.

“Um, Professor?” I bring up very timidly.

“Yes?”

When Sunset Shimmer looks back at me, the look in her eyes momentarily leaves me breathless. She stares back at me with such vibrant passion and compassion in her eyes. I can tell, from the looks of her, that she honestly cares for my well-being, quite likely to the degree similar to love. It amazes me to see. Sunset Shimmer looks so radiant and alive!

I pause a moment and quickly debate to myself. I want to fish for more answers about why Princess Twilight was so reserved and nervous with me, but they probably don't know that I'm on to them. All that can quickly change, however, if I make my concerns evident to Sunset. Whatever she knows, she is likely to report it to her “friends” for “my own good”, as I'm sure they'd phrase it.

I weigh the risks carefully and quickly, then decide it's too soon to reveal my hand. I'm going to let this one sit for a while and see how it goes. Another opportunity may present itself later on when I can surreptitiously gather more information.

“Um,” I close my eyes and lift my left hand behind my neck as I rub it with embarrassment clearly evident on my face. “On second thought, never mind. I'm just being silly, same as usual.”

I peek my eyes open to observe her reaction. I notice that she does not seem to buy my evasive story.

Now it is her turn to debate something with herself. She speaks to me again when she reaches a conclusion.

“Cozy,” she extends her right arm out and gently lays it on my left shoulder. That momentarily causes me to cringe a bit. Despite her telling me she did not have her magic mind-reading gem, I still feel nervous about contact from her. This is definitely not something I can afford to relax my guard around anytime soon.

Thinking of that, it suddenly occurs to me that she should have been a police investigator or interrogator.

“Look at me, sweetie,” Sunset insists.

I hesitantly look up to her eyes.

Damn it! She's catching on to me! I gotta be more careful with her.

With great effort, I force my body to try to relax in order to avoid giving her more cues to give her suspicion about me.

“You know you can tell me anything you want, right?” Sunset checks. “I'm here for you if you need me. I mean it. If anything bothers you, you give me a call. If need be, I'll come riding over to you right away.”

“Gee, Professor! You're acting like you're trying to get me to admit if my mother has raped me or something.”

Sunset's face scrunches up and she shakes her head in denial. “No! I would never think like that about my dear friend Twilight, but I can tell that something is bothering you. I want you to know that, whatever it is, you can tell me.”

Sunset's hand transfers from my left shoulder to my forward chest.

“I also want you to know that I'm not forcing or insisting you to tell me what is bothering you. I don't want to give you any pressure if you don't want me to. It's just-” she sighs for a moment, then resumes, “I just want to make sure that you are aware of that option. I'm here for you, Cozy. Day or night. If you need me, you call me. Alright? I want you to promise me, right now, that you are aware of that.”

Despite my nervousness, I know she's saying this from a place of true compassion. That part deeply touches my heart.

I place my own hands on top of the right hand which is, itself, still on my chest. I gently squeeze her hand reassuringly.

“I promise, Professor, that if I feel I ever need you for anything . . . I'll give you a call right away.”

Hearing that made Sunset smile at me brightly and proudly.

Meanwhile, I am relieved. There is now an eighty-two percent chance she'll drop the subject and move on, especially since we need to get to school soon.

blackrook takes white king . . . checkmate

	“Well then, I'm glad that's over with,” Sunset said in equal relief, then she reaches up to lower the tinted wind visor of her helmet. She looks at me one final time as she gives me a two-finger salute. “See you at school.”

Sunset drives off. My gaze follow her.

You really are too good for this world, Professor. You're like an angel who walks among dirty and unworthy mortals, including me.

I slide the shoulder strap of my purse further in on my left shoulder as I start my walk to school.

It may be, however, that us mortals desperately need you among us, despite our unworthiness.
> Chapter Five: The Red Rook
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

I must admit, I didn't expect to see a limousine parked in front of Canterlot High, let alone parked illegally since it is on the loading and unloading zone. I can’t see through the tinted windows, but I calculate a sixty-seven percent chance the driver is still in there, ready to take off if he or she has to, and a seventy-two percent chance that the passenger of this vehicle is a pompous asshole who values his or her privacy.

I could not assess much else from the vehicle itself. It is in good condition. The model is only three years old.

Standing closely behind the vehicle, I blink twice to engage eye tracking mode on my glasses. From there I navigate to camera mode, activate it, then blink both of my eyes while looking straight at the license plate of the vehicle, which said, “Myrulz1”. Doing so causes the glasses to surreptitiously take a picture. I did hear the glasses project a “click” noise but it is only because of the sonic vibration on my eardrums. I open my eyes to examine the picture I took. Satisfied, I close the camera program and then blink twice to disengage eye tracking mode.

Custom license plate. Oh, you make this too easy for me, mysterious stranger! Also, I bump up the odds to eighty-seven percent chance of a pompous asshole.

I make my way to the entrance of the school but, before I reach the stairs, I notice movement out of the corner of my left eye. I look and see a tall white man in a dark blue business suit, complete with red necktie. His black, combed hair neatly recedes about four inches past his forehead. There is no hair to the sides of his head. It's all combed behind his ears, and he has a pointy goatee at the end of his chin.

I lower my eyelids halfway as I realize who this is.

Superintendent Neighsay. Great! Make that one-hundred percent chance of a pompous asshole.

Oh jeez! What a day this is turning out for me.

Bad timing, too. First a pony princess from another world temporarily kidnaps my mother, and now I see that the Superintendent just happens to show up on the same day for a surprise inspection.

I would calculate the odds of something unfortunate as only a one point eight-two percent chance, but Neighsay seems to be on a war campaign against my mother lately, so that forces me to bump up the odds of showing up at inconvenient time to at least thirteen percent chance.

I sigh irritably then walk over to him. I better go see what he wants and see if I can clean up this damage.

I notice, as I approach him, that he is staring directly at the base of the Canterlot High statue which was now secured with a ten foot tall iron gate around it and several cameras aiming toward where the portal used to be and away from it in order to record anyone who dares to approach this.

I know for a fact that he was the deciding vote to impose all of these extra security measures around the supposed portal.

However, what he does not know is that the magical energy of the portal is no longer there. It's been moved to a tall mirror in my mom's basement which is surrounded by a machine. That portal isn't always open anymore, either. Certain security measures have been taken on both sides to prevent unauthorized crossover, but otherwise it can open at any time.

I give a devious smirk and narrow my eyes at the Superintendent as I continue to approach him, for I am one of very few that knew that the iron gate and all those cameras are now guarding an ordinary statue base. It amuses me so much that he continues to feel paranoid over nothing. I am in no hurry to correct this oversight.

“Superintendent Neighsay! To what do I owe the pleasure?” I ask brightly when I arrive at him while putting on a bright, fake, happy smile.

“That is none of your concern, young urchin,” the Superintendent says disdainfully as he continues to glare at the square base of the statue where the portal used to be. “Be on your way.”

“Gee-whiz, Mister, I can do that, but I thought I might be able to assist you while I'm standing here. I am the Student Council President, by the way, so you may find me more useful to you than you thought.”

“Really?” He looks at me. Now I have his interest. “Aren't you the adopted daughter of the Principal of this campus, Miss Twilight Sparkle?”

“I sure am her daughter!” I say brightly while inwardly wincing in anger. Enough with the “adoption” title already! Jeez! Twilight Sparkle is my mother! End of story. Get it right, you insensitive dipshit!

“I'm also her number one assistant!” I continue brightly. “So if there is anything I can do for you on her behalf then I'm your gal!” I pose for him cutely for a second, placing a single finger to my right cheek.

“What I want . . . is Twilight Sparkle,” he announces dryly.

“Well gee, Mister. I'm sorry, but my mom is not here right now, but please feel free to leave a message at the sound of the beep.” I pause for three seconds, then say, “BEEP!”

“So you're telling me that Miss Twilight Sparkle . . . the Principal of this school . . . is not at her post right now?” Neighsay asks without an ounce of humor in his voice. I start to doubt he has a funny bone in his entire, pathetic body.

Not at her post? Is he serious? Where does he think he is? A military school?

I guess somebody does not know how to use Google Maps. It's probably because it had too many big words.

“Well, she had to be called away for important business,” I explain as I shuffle my feet nervously. “That happens. My mother called ahead and let Vice Principal Sunburst know, so everything is fine and dandy!”

“I see.” The Superintendent crosses his arms before me and grows a scowl. “Important business, you say? Well, I'm glad we got that all cleared up. I'm glad she regards something on this Earth as important, but if that thing is not her job here in this school . . . well then. It might be time to consider a change in management.”

A hint of alarm shows through in my eyes behind my glasses.

“There's no need to get all up in arms about this, Mister. Mom had to take care of something and she'll be back before long.

“Now then, is there anything I can help you with? I'm quite talented for my age, you know.”

Superintendent Neighsay sighs in annoyance, then says, “Well then . . . I'm glad somebody around here takes their job seriously. From what I heard, your mother has made quite a mess of things in the past, and it seems she's no better off than she was when she attended this school as a student herself!”

He glares at the base of the statue.

“Exhibit A!” He nods at the statue. “If it weren't for her carelessness, perhaps this statue wouldn't have been damaged in the first place, nor would it's vile and satanic 'magic' have leaked into our world. Every single time when such forces have shown up, it's been nothing but a menace to human society. These creatures . . . these ponies . . . are clearly a danger to us and should be treated accordingly. I will not rest until every last ounce of their satanic portals are locked up and guarded.”

He glares at me. “How many students here at this campus had near-death experiences because of the meddling forces of this other world? Students should not come to school and have to fear for their very lives! Instead, they should come here to learn, but all I see them learning here is useless information other than how to survive these Equestrian invasions to our sacred land.”

“Well, as you can see, we do have this portal locked up tight.” I gesture to it.

“Yes.” He looks at it coldly. “That's a start.”

I am tempted to announce that my mother is working right now on a solution to solve the Horse-Land leak problem even further, but that information was shared with me in confidence.

Besides, it’s probable that the Superintendent might take that information and blow it out of proportion, especially if he learns that my mother built another portal in our basement and the energy that used to go to this portal has been relocated there.

But, I have to admit, the pompous asshole kind of does have a point. I look at where the portal used to be and realize that, before the extra security measures were taken around this portal, anybody could have stumbled into the portal accidentally or vice versa. My mind spun with the havoc it would have caused if such things ended up in the public news or the White House. Humans are stupid, so they'll blow anything they don’t understand or fear out of proportion.

Considering all that, the gate and camera around this portal is actually long overdue.

Plus there is the fact that Equestrian magic really has been a menace on multiple occasions. Considering everything that happened so far, it surprises me that people are not this paranoid more often.

“Cozy Glow, was it?” he asks as he looks back at me.

“Yes indeedy! That's my name! Don't wear it out.”

He focuses on me fully. “Yes, I heard of you. The local child prodigy with an astounding IQ of one-hundred and ninety-seven. Genius of your caliber is rarely matched. That's probably even greater than the great Albert Einstein. Your mother may be an incompetent individual both as a Principal and as a mother, but if there is one thing I can say in Miss Sparkle’s favor, it's that she was astute enough to quickly adopt you not long after those test results came out to the public. I'm really quite astounded that she reacted this quickly.”

I stiffen.

“Um . . . go back a bit on that one. Did you just call my mother . . . incompetent?”

“Clearly she is,” Neighsay confirms with a droll roll of his eyes. “I shouldn't have to specify that, especially to you. You know her better than anyone, which is probably quite unfortunate. Everything she touches turns into a mess. 

“Here you are, one of the greatest child prodigies of our time in the incompetent hands of Miss Sparkle. I shudder to think of the results.”

“Oh. I see,” I say stiffly. I reach up and slowly pull off my glasses then deposit them in my purse. “You know, Sir, now that you mention it . . . there are a few things I'd like to report to you about my mother.”

“Oh?” He looks at me with intrigue.

“However, this information is rather sensitive. I can't let you splash it all over the news or something like that, so can you keep a secret?”

He shrugs. “That depends on what it is. If it is child abuse, then I'm legally obligated to report it to the police.” He looks at me squarely but with dim expectations. “You're not being abused at home, are you?” He did not really sound like he believes in those words. He is just checking.

“No.” I shake my head. “It's nothing that severe . . . but . . . it is something that needs to stay between us.”

“Out with it, child,” Neighsay demands impatiently. “What is it?”

I lean forward and finger him to lean down. He sighs irritably for a moment, but then proceeds to do so. I lean closer and gesture for him to lean down more. This time he cooperates without anymore fuss. His face is practically right in front of mine now.

“The thing that is important to understand about my mother,” I whisper to Neighsay conspiratorially, “is the fact that she's alive!”

“Alive?” Neighsay actually regards me with a bit of alarm. “Was there ever any doubt? Was her life recently in danger?” Right after he said that, he gets a droll look. “On second thought, that might actually be possible.”

I shake my head in denial. “No. It's nothing like that. She wasn't in danger recently, at least according to my knowledge. The reason this news is noteworthy, however, is because that is a distinct advantage she has over you!”

Right after I say that, I quickly slash at his throat with a scalpel. A line of blood is drawn across his neck. Because he’s leaning towards me, his jugular is within my reach.

Superintendent Neighsay backs off as he regards me with utter shock, but only for a few seconds. I kick him in the nuts as hard as I can then drag him down to his knees in front of me just to make sure we are more at even eye level.

Well, actually, from that position, I am now a foot taller.

“Nobody . . . but nobody . . . fucks with my MOM!” I screech at the end of that sentence.

Meanwhile he continues to regard me in utter horror as he chokes on his own blood. During that time, his blood leaks down his neck like a waterfall which soaks his clothes with the stain of red, although his red necktie somewhat conceals that fact.

“You have no idea how hard she works to support others!” I wail at him while stabbing my right pointing finger into his chest several times. “She works harder than anyone I have ever known. She works to support me and all of my interests. Do you know what my violin cost her? A whole fucking lot, that's what!

“And I'm not the only one to benefit under her benevolence. Every student in this whole campus adores her. Why? Because she's the best goddamn principal this school has ever received. She has gone out of her way time and time again to open up new opportunities for every single one of her precious students. She does this because she honestly cares for the welfare and education of her students, which is probably a goddamn whole lot more than you have ever done in your whole miserable life, you sack of shit! I'm doing the whole world a favor by wiping your smug little face right off this planet!”

Superintendent Neighsay falls to the ground. His blood soaks through his clothes and is now spreading across the ground.

I lean over him and peer right into his face. This causes my dark shadow to fall on top of him.

“My mother . . . and all of her friends . . . are angels incarnate in this world. They spread joy, happiness, and friendship wherever they walk upon this godforsaken planet, but guess what . . . if angels can exist on this world, wouldn't it make sense that fate can also swing the other way?

“Well, tah-dah!” I pose cutely for him. “Behold my medicine! I am Cozy Glow, a devil incarnate who came to this world and disguised myself as an adorable and petite little girl because nobody would ever suspect little old me!

“I'll let you in on another little secret, though. We devils and angels actually get along with each other far better than most would think, and that is largely due to necessity.

“Think about it. What would happen if these angels incarnate suddenly lost all hope and faith in humanity? What would happen if they leave this world and return to the higher dimension that they actually belong in?

“Well, I'll tell you what would happen! If the last pure ray of sunshine and hope would set upon this world, then everything that's left would fall into utter anarchy. When mankind is left to fend for themselves without the kind, gentle, and wise guiding hand of higher powers, then it wouldn't take long for the stupidity of mankind to leap off a cliff like a bunch of fucking lemmings.

“Then, after that, where would we devils gather our precious souls to drag to hell? 

“It is true that we have a tendency to enjoy watching the world burn, but our emotional satisfaction is not overshadowed by a lack of foresight. If we burned down this entire field then we'd have no crops to harvest next season. It's simple numbers.”

I kneel directly above Neighsay. I visibly see his skin turning whiter due to blood loss.

“My, my. Looks like you lost a lot of blood, Mister. Such a shame. Now you know how a woman feels whenever she's having her period.

“I'll let you in on another dirty little secret of mine as long as you promise me you'll stay quiet about it, okay? Please don't tell anyone! It would mean so much to me.

“Anyway, another thing you should know about me is I am an expert computer hacker.

“Well, actually, the better term is computer cracker. A hacker is someone who can use their skills to defend a digital system like a police officer. A cracker is someone who breaks in completely illegally, like a burglar breaking and entering into a house to steal or deface all of your stuff.

“Anyway, my cracker alias is 'The Shadow Queen' but, believe it or not, that wasn't my first choice. I actually wanted to go with the alias 'The Red Rook' but it turned out some other jerk took it already.” I point to myself using the scalpel. “I didn't want to be thought of as some copycat hack who operates under the shadow of some two-bit incompetent asshole.

“Besides, my favorite symbol I like to wear is the Red Rook.” I tap the sides of my headband with my bloody scalpel for emphasis where I wear two of such symbols. “But then I thought . . . isn't that a little too telling? I can't afford to be that obvious because not everyone I deal with is a complete moron.

“By the way, I'll give you a hint why I prefer the red rook.” To illustrate my point, I lick his blood off my scalpel which causes his eyes to widen in further horror.

I then change subjects a bit.

“So that got me thinking . . . Hmm. What identity could I adopt that still fits with my identity and personality?

“Then I thought, 'Wait a second! I love to play chess, and there are plenty of other pieces on the board. Which of those do I identify with the most?'

“At first I looked at the king, thinking that maybe my identity could have something to do with that, but I'm a girl so it didn't quite fit. Besides, the king may be the heart of the game, but he's not the backbone. That pathetic little piece can only move in any direction only one square at a time per turn. I guess that harkens back to the good old days when kings used to be fat and lazy.

“But then I thought, ‘Who else on the board really governs the fate of the game?’

“Why, it is none other than the very same gender that gets underestimated for centuries, the Queen.

“She's the one whispering sound strategy to her fat, lazy, and stupid husband on how to govern his army competently while they have fun in bed.

“She plays her hand intelligently and carefully by letting him get all the credit and blame for her work because, if things go south, it's his head on the chopping block, not hers.

“Meanwhile, her enemies will think they won the game the moment the fat patsy is over and done with. However, in the shadows, the real brains of the war is busy pausing and reassessing her resources in order to prepare a sound comeback strategy. By the time anyone realizes what a true threat she is, it will be too late.

“She is manipulative, charismatic, strategic, talented and cunning. I can think of no better cover identity than that.

“So . . . there you have it. The amazing origin story of my cracker alias, The Shadow Queen.”

I notice Neighsay's eyes roll up and his eyes flutter.

“Oh.” My shoulders droop in disappointment. “Here is the part of your whole 'dying' bit that I don't enjoy. The part where your body starts to shut down.

“The reason for that is your body is in emergency mode right now so it's shutting down all non-essential systems to preserve itself for as long as possible.

“That includes your nervous system. That is unfortunate to me because it means you are no longer in agony right now. If it were up to me, you'd remain at peak levels of pain all the way to your death. Alas, whoever designed our bodies is somewhat smarter than the people who use them.”

I lean directly over his face and force his eyelids open.

“LOOK at me, you son of a bitch!” I demand of him. “I want to savor the last moment as I watch your precious life wither away in your eyes.”

Obviously he cannot respond to me anymore. He probably can't understand me anymore, so I just watch as the last drops of life in him fade from his eyes.

“Cozy.”

Any second now . . .

“Cozy!”

And . . . gone.

Congratulations, you son of a bitch! You are now dead. All of your dreams, hopes, and wishes are now dashed. You are also forever removed from the lives of all of your friends and family. All because of a few ugly words you said to me.

I hope you found it worth it, because it truly cost you everything!

“COZY GLOW!”





* * *





I snap out of my daydream with a start. I look around me to assess my surroundings, then my shoulders sag when I notice Superintendent Neighsay still standing in front of me.

“You done?” he asks in annoyance. “I've been standing here for a while, waiting for my answer.”

“Oh, um . . . sorry. I must have spaced out.” I pull out of my purse my inhaler. I put it to my lips then press the thing down. The medicine works to open my chest and lungs.

“Respiratory problems?” Neighsay observes, and for once he actually sounds truly sympathetic.

I just nod to him as I hold my breath for a few seconds before I let it out with a gasp.

“I suppose even a super genius is not spared the ordinary faults of common human weaknesses,” I lament. I look at my inhaler, then say, “But at least my vast intellect gives me a chance to improve our system someday. Who knows? I might even find the cure for such things.”

“If you do, you let me know,” Neighsay requests of me. “I have a cousin who has something like this pretty badly, so I definitely sympathize with your plight.”

“Sure.” I look up at him. “That's a simple request.”

“Which brings me back to the question I asked you while you spaced out, but I only ask this out of simple curiosity. What do you plan to do when you grow up? With your vast intellect, there are a lot of options available to you.”

“Yeah, I know.” I drop my inhaler back in my purse. “Half a dozen Ivy League colleges have already offered me a chance for a full scholarship with them.”

“Ivy League? Are you serious?” Neighsay asks in amazement.

“Yeah.” I nod at him. “I took a picture of a bunch of their letters on my cellphone. Want to see? They have my name on it, so you'll know they are genuine.”

He holds up a hand to me. “No. That's quite alright. I believe you.”

Why do you believe me? I'm not lying to you, but you have no evidence of that. Not yet, at any rate. I even made a very substantial claim, and you're going to accept it just like that?

Fools. Why am I cursed to walk this earth surrounded by so many fools?

“I hope you realize that they would not offer full scholarship to just anyone,” Neighsay points out. “This really is quite an honor. I hope you're taking this as seriously as possible. I know that the handicaps you're dealing with, like being raised by your mother, is a burden . . . but I believe you are smart and talented enough to overcome these trials.”

Stop dissing my MOM!!!

What's your problem with her, anyway? You act like her mere existence is insulting to you.

“Anyway, to finally answer your question,” I say as a way to tactically change the subject away from my mother before I really do murder the miserable bastard, “I was thinking of stepping into the political arena.”

“Oh?” He raises an eyebrow. “Why is that?”

“Well,” I thumb to the school behind me, “I'm Student Council President at this campus and I'm doing a pretty good job, if I do say so myself. I enjoy the power, I love being the center of attention, and I love helping people. In positions like this, other people come to me in the hopes that I will help them solve their problems. Every time they do, I treat it like a puzzle. Every problem has a perfect solution if I study it long and hard enough. I enjoy my work and I'm proud of it.

“In a larger political arena, I can take my talents several steps further. By changing the laws of the city, state, or country, I can promote lasting change on a level that really matters.

“I consider this campus to be a practice ground for me so I can prepare myself for a far more ambitious future. First mayor, then State Senator, then finally . . Well, you might be looking at the future first female president of the country, and I have big plans!”

I allow a bit of my true self to reveal itself as I wriggle my hands while a look of evil, ambitious glee spreads across my face. He'll probably just assume I'm joking with that expression so no harm, no foul.

“Well, if you're serious, I have some people I'd like you to meet after you graduate that might help you get started on that journey,” Neighsay kindly offers.

For a moment I think that such generosity from him is uncharacteristic, but then it occurs to me exactly how he could benefit from this arrangement.

“I can introduce you to the right constituents that could open doors for you,” Neighsay resumes. “Plus, in your campaign, you're going to need a lot of money, and I know some who might be able to help you with that, including myself.”

I lean to my left to see if the limousine with the “Myrulz1” license plate is still there, and yes . . . still there.

“I see your point,” I acknowledge as I address him again. “I appreciate your offer. I'll take a look at it seriously when the time comes. You have my word. If you want to assist me with my big plans, then you'll at least have my undivided attention.”

“Excellent!” Neighsay says happily in a slightly conniving sort of way. “Then I'll look forward to it.

“Until then, keep up the good work and resume your studies. Do everything in your power to make sure that nothing stands in your way.”

“Oh, believe me.” I narrow my eyes and smile darkly. “I won't!”

“Well, it was a pleasure talking to you, young lady. I look forward to doing it again sometime.”

That makes one of us.

He turns to look at the base of the statue behind the iron bars for a few seconds, then sighs in lament. “I really wish I had adopted you instead. Then I could show you education and opportunities that would help you accomplish whatever you want.”

“Well, I make do,” I say casually with a shrug. “It's not so bad once you know how to use the system.”

He glances at me out of the corner of his left eye as he says, “Indeed.

“Well, until next time, I bid you adieu.”

“Did you have any message you want me to share with my mother?”

“No. I'll just reschedule.” He says to me as he continues to walk off. “I just pray that Miss Sparkle chooses to share her good graces with me next time. I hate to waste my time. Fortunately for me, you've helped with that this time.”

I shrug, then turn to leave myself.

For the record, my mother adopted me before I was tested and certified as a genius. That is because she can see the value in people before she has proof.

I don't know how she does that. That just appears to be one of her gifts. If it weren't for her, nobody would have fully known what I am capable of; maybe not even me.
> Chapter Six: Ghost
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

After washing my hands several times in the ladies bathroom, I proceed to splash my face with water to help bring me back to my senses. Following that, I slowly look up to my reflection in the mirror ahead of me. I watch as water droplets drip off of my chin which thins out in seconds.

I can't get the earlier visit from Princess Twilight out of my head. Something felt wrong about that encounter. Something that was probably even dangerous to me.

“Um . . . yeah. Pleased to meet you . . . Cozy Glow,” she said to me very nervously. There was a cringe to her pose. A smallness to her eyes. It took me a while to notice that because she kept avoiding eye contact with me for the majority of the encounter.

She acted like she partially recognized me and was struggling to remind herself that I'm not the same Cozy Glow from her own universe. She was struggling to accept me as a different person and she did not entirely succeed. Part of her always remained on her guard just in case . . . of what? Why was she so afraid of me?

I don't know what my pony counterpart is like but, judging on how similar my mother was to Princess Twilight, it stood to reason that my pony counterpart must be very similar to me. My mother and Princess Twilight could easily pass as identical twins. They had the same body shape, the same color, the same face, the same voice. They had very similar mannerisms, body language, and apparent personality. Their body language alone was a seventy-two percent match. The error in difference between them likely stems from Princess Twilight's lack of familiarity with the human body but she was close enough to pass for human in the eyes of most of the world. If I wasn't studying her so carefully, even I could have missed it.

So if those two could share that much in common, what does that suggest about me and pony Cozy Glow?

Well, if she's anything like me then she's vastly intelligent, ambitious, strategic, manipulative, likely a very good liar, and . . . well. The further I continue the list, the greater the chances of error. 

Pony Cozy Glow is born a pegasus pony in the magical world of Horse-Land. That is her reality and the only thing she's ever known. There is a ninety-seven percent chance I can dismiss “computer hacker” as a list of skills for pony Cozy. That also means she never had those resources to work with. She has been working with Victorian era kind of technology all of her life.

Well, for the most part. There does seem to be a few odd exceptions in their world. For example, I heard that they had digital arcade machines. Why would they have that and not computers?

Also, how could ponies type on them if they don't have hands anyway?

Illogical . . . all of it, but that just goes to prove it's unwise to evaluate their world by the standards of my own. The laws of physics are just a myth where they come from. They seem to operate more on cartoon logic.

I'd love to see that in action and get a chance to study it! Oh, the data I could collect!

I grab the sides of the sink and squeeze it with my hands. My head droops a bit while I continue to stare at my face in the mirror. My shoulder blades spread a bit.

So if pony Cozy is like me, or at least very similar to me, then she may have had an ambitious plan too and set that in motion. It doesn't have to be against anyone specific like my agenda against Diamond Tiara. Instead, she might have tried to accumulate power for its own sake. Considering how much trepidation Princess Twilight regarded me, it seems like pony Cozy already set her plans in motion. Maybe she even succeeded to take over their world for a moment but, in all probability, that was short lived. Since Princess Twilight is still around to tell the tale, it suggests that my counterparts ‘evil’ plan was curtailed to some extent. Perhaps even completely.

I got to admit, if I met my pony counterpart personally, I would be very intrigued and she would likely be too. However, knowing ourselves as well as we do, there would likely be at least a thread of caution between us as well. If we're too similar, it may include all the wrong ways.

But oh, the plans we could devise if we worked together! Encountering another with my vast intellect is very rare as it is, not to mention someone who could complement my personality completely.

In any case, it seems that Princess Twilight is judging me by the standards of my pony counterpart, and that is not looking good. If those fears were to spread to my mother, then I would suffer a fate worse than death.

Worse, even, than failing all my plans against Little Miss Prissy.

I contemplate the cruel irony of considering my own mother's pony counterpart as my potential enemy. The same woman who has my mother's face and voice. For all I know, maybe even the same spirit. The two women who grew up in different worlds but still share so much in common that they are practically two sides of the same coin. It pains me so much to consider anyone so similar to my beloved mother to be my enemy.

Not to mention dangerous. Of all the people in the world, my mother is the closest person I've ever met to being able to match my intellect. It's been super swell for me because it means she's able to nurture my potential like nobody else can. That is such a relief and comfort because that fact is otherwise very rare. Our intelligence sets us apart from others so severely that it often makes us feel lonely even when we stand in a crowd. To encounter another who can see the world the way I do . . . it validates every feeling I have.

The truth is my intelligence actually does surpass my mother’s by a noticeable margin, but not enough to draw us apart. Since she's older, she also has the advantage of experience, although I'm quickly catching up to her on that front.

I remember a moment when she and I lay with our backs on a picnic blanket as we gazed up at the stars. She challenged me with questions about knowledge of the stars and constellations. I answered most of her questions correctly. Every time I did, I could feel her beaming at me with pride. I felt relieved to notice that. For every correct answer I gave her, it weakened any hidden, lingering reservations she had about adopting me.

For the answers I either didn't get correct or know the answer to at all, she gladly taught me the correct answer. She was pleased to teach me something new, and I was eager to learn.

I close my eyes as I think back to that moment under the stars.

“Mommy,” I asked her in the past on that night under the stars, “do you really love me?”

“Of course I do!” my mother immediately replied. She acted shocked that I asked that question. “Why would you even ask me that?”

“I was just wondering,” I replied sheepishly. I didn't want her to know how insecure I felt. That would be a sign of weakness which might lead to disappointing her.

“I love you, Mommy,” I say as I hug her from her side. Tears leaked from my tightly squeezed eyes in a wince of desperation.

“I love you too!” Mommy replied warmly and lovingly. “You are the greatest blessing to ever come into my life, my darling Cozy Glow. I'm so glad to have met you and for you to share my life with me. I feel as if you complete me, as if we were always meant to be together.”

“I feel the same way!” I exclaimed with an explosion of relief. “Please, Mommy . . . never ever let me go!”

“I won't.” She kissed my forehead, then went on to say, “I promise. Cross my heart and hope to fly-”

“-stick a cupcake in my eye!” We finished together, and then we giggled.

It was a very warm and happy moment for me. As long as she's in my life, I feel whole again.

I sniff as I open my eyes, my mind returning to the present. As I look back at my reflection, I realize my vision got blurry with tears.

I promise too, Mommy. I won't ever let you go either. I won't let anyone come between us, not even your alternate self.

I sigh as I realize that my weakness, for the moment, is a dangerous lack of information. Since it seems very unlikely that I'll be able to squeeze that information from any adult that I know, I guess that means I'll have to roll up my sleeves and do this myself.

Still looking into the mirror as I wipe my tears away with a paper towel offered in a dispenser to the side of the mirror, I notice resolve sink deep into my eyes as I come up with a plan.

I need to do a little recon so I know what I'm up against. I think it's finally time I pay a long overdue, unannounced, and unauthorized visit to Horse-Land.

That'll be a little tricky, but bypassing security measures and gathering information is a specialty of mine. One of many.

When the door opens to a dull pink bathroom stall behind me, I focus on it through the mirror, gazing past the reflection of my right shoulder. There I see something that I do not expect, the sight of Ghost.

The mysterious boy is wearing long blue jeans and a gray sweat coat with hood over his head. He also wears large black sunglasses to help conceal more of his face. He rises off the toilet and silently approaches me from behind. In fact, he moves so quietly that part of me suspects Horse-Land magic at work with him.

But if he did have some magical item that helps him to go unnoticed on his job, then that alone does not explain his competence at his job in other ways. He acts more like he was a professional spy for sixty plus years and he somehow got magically youthened to become a young teenager again. With the way this world works sometimes ever since the Horse-Land magical leaks, I consider it unwise to wipe every theory off the table, no matter how unlikely it seems.

Ghost is among the very few individuals in my age range that I actually respect. Also, while I would never admit this to him openly, he also kind of creeps me out.

I have never succeeded to locate him before unless he wanted to be found. Anyone who is that good at going unnoticed or breaking into areas he's not supposed to be in order to gather intel means he could potentially show up anywhere.

Sometimes I still have vivid nightmares of the boy silently staring at me in the shadows of my bedroom at night while I am asleep, but he'd always vanish every time I check for him.

Like a Ghost!

“This is the ladies restroom, so I don't think you're supposed to be here,” I coyly inform him, still looking at him through the reflection of the mirror. “Not unless you spontaneously turned into a girl since last we met.”

After saying that, I turn to face him and cross my arms across my chest. A sly look grows on my face. “I must admit, that would be very interesting if it is so. Please say it is so!”

“I can become whatever I need to be in order to complete my mission,” Ghost says quietly to me as he stops three feet in front of me. “Usually a fly on the wall is more than sufficient.”

I look intrigued. “Are you telling me you have shapeshifting powers? If so, why not disguise yourself as a girl right now? I dare you!”

He shrugs carelessly as he answers, “Because I know for a fact that it's just the two of us in here. No further displays of my abilities are necessary, and regardless . . . it is beside the point for the moment.”

He lifts his right hand and holds up a black flash drive.

“Do you still want it?” he checks.

Honestly, there is a part of me that feels nervous about the power he's offering to me, but I don't hesitate to answer him because that may reveal my own weakness. I certainly don't want to underestimate him by revealing more than he probably already knows.

“Of course I do!”

He pulls it back as I reach for it, then says, “Ah-ah-ah! Payment first.”

I sigh a bit as I look at him. Normally I'd want proof that he has indeed delivered the merchandise I asked for before I start handing out payment, but he's proven too competent at his job (to the point of being scary) to question him now. Also, I don't want to lose him as a contact. He's too valuable as an asset. I may need his services again someday so it's tactically smart to remain on his good side.

Cooperatively, I pull out my cellphone from my purse. I navigate it to the information he's seeking then proceed to email it to him using a secure and digitally encrypted line.

Seconds later he feels a buzz from his own cellphone. He pulls it out of his left sweat coat pocket and checks it. I observe as he quickly types in a password of his own then presses his thumb on a thumb scanner on his phone. He pauses for about seven seconds as he observes it. After that, he nods in satisfaction as he looks at me, puts away his phone, and hands me the black flash drive. He says as he hands it over, “Our business is concluded.”

I take the flash drive into my right hand and look at it, then at him as I watch him leave without another word. In fact, I can't hear anything about him, including his sneakers as he walks. He makes absolutely no sound at all, almost as if he is a holographically projected illusion.

He pushes open the bathroom door, checks both ways in the hallway, then leaves to his left.

I look at the flash drive on the palm of my right hand, then clench it with a fist as I pull it close to my chest.

This flash drive, I knew, accomplishes a very important step in my plans. It may give access to great power, but at a very steep cost.

Also there are other dire implications of the information I may discover, but I'll never know for sure without moving the game forward.

My metaphorical chess game with Ghost concludes, for the moment. This one ends in a draw. I gain something and he gains something. Stars only knows what he'll do with the information I sent him, but I calculate an eighty-six percent chance that he'll use it to help him gather more intel on some other mission of his. I've been able to narrow it down to a few possibilities but I soon reach an impasse from there until I gather more intel myself.

Meanwhile, I manage to maneuver one of my pawns to the other side of the game board in a separate chess game I've been playing simultaneously. Because of that, it's now ready for replacement with any other chess piece of my choosing.

Which means the next move is mine.

Decisions. Decisions.
> Chapter Seven: The Student's Life
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

My day at Canterlot High is a pretty standard fanfare, and by that I mean boring as hell! It's almost exhausting to pretend to have as much enthusiasm for the work as the other students. 

Sometimes I envy idiots. It would be nice if my experience could be as genuinely positive as theirs is. 

But,  alas, it just isn't challenging enough for me to get a kick out of it.  Not even close. I know this stuff already. Why do I have to repeat it? I  feel like an old lady who got youthened to a teenager again and has to  repeat that which she’s already experienced. 

Many times I also have to bite my tongue to prevent myself from correcting the so-called “teachers.” 

But  what else can I expect? When the blind lead the blind, straight-forward  progress is very unlikely, and it is exhausting (not to mention  unpopular) to correct humanity's every mistake so I learn to wave it  off. That's just how the world works and I need to get used to it. 

Sunset  Shimmer's classes are a rare exception to this rule. Not only is her  subject matter pretty interesting, but she presents it in a very  engaging way. She actually challenges her students' perspective by  showing them there are different ways of looking at things. Her science  classes are especially interesting to me. What she shows and how she  shows it is borderline magical. 

There  is no doubt in my mind that she would have been accused of witchcraft  two centuries ago (with good cause in this case, I might add), but that  would be such a shame. If they had burned her at the stake, then they  would have missed out on the overwhelming value she had to offer to society. 

We are so lucky to have a Professor like her working on our campus. 

I  notice, as I look around at my other fellow students in her classes,  that they are often leaning forward in their seats as they eagerly learn  what she has to offer. 

While  most of my academic pursuits are so easy that they are a yawn-fest, I  really do fall into a typical category of nerdy-girl syndrome when it  comes to physical education. I may not find them too engaging, but at  least they are a challenge for me. 

Indeed, too challenging. 

That  likely has to do with my struggle to control my blood sugar level and  my asthma. When my heart rate increases too much due to physical stress,  my body goes haywire in multiple ways. After having a seizure twice  because of it, the doctors finally decided to give me a note to waive my  academic credit for physical education entirely. 

But I was not quite ready to give up on physical education, at least not certain components of it. 

In  fact, it was my idea to approach the Cheerleading squad during my  freshman year. I was interested at the time because it seemed like a  girly thing to do and it seemed like fun physical exercise. 

My  biggest motive for trying out for the squad was because they were  popular and they knew how to manipulate a crowd. I thought they might  have something to teach me on that regard so that I  could get even better at it, but one look at their acrobatic flips I  saw them do during tryouts left me thinking, “Nope! Not happening! I am  outta here! See ya never!” 

They didn't even get to my turn before I walked out on them. 

Lesson learned. There are just some things I cannot do. 

I  did, however, apply and successfully attended the swimming classes. I  already had my permission to waive physical education in my hands so  nobody was forcing me to do this, but I applied for this class anyway  because I wanted to. Even then I tend to keep my physical activity on  the down-low and nobody complains about that since they are aware of my  physical handicaps. 

Although some of the girls in class had made fun of me about my physical handicaps behind my back. It wasn't a complaint, it was simply a source of amusement for them. 

But that's okay! I don't get mad. I get even, and boy did I ever! 

The  best part of it is, they don't even know it was me. I have a reputation  to protect, after all. I can't afford my perception of being sweet and  cuddly to be damaged. 

Nevertheless,  the lesson they had learned probably traumatizes them to even think  about making fun of me anymore or anyone else in a similar situation. 

But I digress. 

Since I have much less weight in the water, it's easier to push myself to greater extremes than I normally would. 

In  retrospect, now that I'm aware that my pony counterpart is a pegasus, I  wonder if that's another reason I enjoy swimming so much. That's one of  the few places in the world where I can kind of give gravity the middle  finger. 

I'm really proud of my contribution to the swim classes as well because I  was the main one pushing for the installation of the pool into the  school. I was the one who started a giant fund-raising campaign to help  pay for the project. 

I  even went to City Hall to petition my case there, and I was successful.  I raised a lot of money on the side to help fund the project. 

Obviously  I was not alone in this. My mother and many of her friends helped out  as well, and they did it with their typical song and dance that helped  sway the crowd like a bunch of mindless sheep, but hey! I won't argue  with the results. 

Actually, I loved them for it. 

A  lot of people who followed me on that project were excited about that.  That was because I was showing them exactly how to make big dreams come  true. 

There  is a process to it, like fine art. It mostly has to do with being  charismatic enough to sway the opinions of a mass amount of people, but  it also has to do with being smart and approaching the right people, in the smart kind of way, who know how to open doors for me. 

Once  we got started on the actual construction of the pool, it took three  months. There were a lot of volunteers for the project, too, who donated  labor and/or resources to help make this dream project a reality. 

Once  it was done, the whole town had a big celebration about it. There was a  great big feast, bands playing, big clouds of party confetti covered  all over town. Most of the festivities occurred in Central Park and the school itself, but several streets got closed that day due to marching bands. 

Let's  just say that I wasn't the only one grinning from ear to ear. That day  was a big accomplishment for me and all those who chose to follow me. 

I probably would have gotten my cutie mark on that day if I was a pony in Horse-Land. 




*  *  * 



 


During  lunch and after school I attend a few meetings where I participate in  my official duties as Student Council President, and that's the only  part of my day that is less than ordinary. The reason being is two of my  senior staff members, the Secretary of Record Keeping (Scribble Dee)  and the Secretary of Treasury (Diamond Tiara) are both absent today. Not  only that, but my Secretary of Public Relations, Silver Spoon, is also  quite absent-minded today. During our meetings, I catch her quite a  number of times just typing away on her cellphone and not paying heed to  anything else the rest of us are saying at the table. 

I  made a mental note to myself to check on those messages of hers later  on in order to find out why my staff meetings are less important to her. 

The  reason I can do that is because I got her phone bugged with a virus  that clones most of her cellphone information to a mirror database I  have in the cloud. As to the reason that virus is there, it came with a  certain text message I sent to her, and many others, a long time ago. 

I'm  pretty proud of it, too, because it hardly takes up any data or battery  energy to maintain itself because that program only activates once a  day for a few seconds to two minutes in order to update the mirror  database. As a result, it's very hard to discover. It's like a secret  digital ninja hiding in the shadows for me and occasionally sending me information with a messenger hawk. 

Once that information is copied to the cloud, I can sift through her personal information at my leisure. 

Tactics  like this are very useful for me to gather intel on others so that I  can use that information to manipulate or outright blackmail people into  servitude, willing or not. 

And that is why I have spies and servants everywhere. Not just in this school, but in many places in town. 

I  learned, on that day, that Scribble Dee is actually sick, but she  wisely delegates some of her workload to others and she also has us  record our meetings using one of our cellphones so we can send it to her  later. After that, she will type up all the important stuff. I could  tell that Scribble Dee is indeed trying the best she can under the  circumstance so I don't fault her at all. 

As  for Little Miss Prissy, this isn't the first meeting she's been absent  from. In fact, she's been missing a bunch of classes and entire days at  school lately. The reason seems to be building anxiety and depression,  and a pretty severe case of it at that. To my knowledge, she is not  getting the help she needs with that, not even with her so-called  “friend”. 

I ask Silver Spoon what is eating Diamond Tiara lately while simultaneously making it very clear that her negligence of school and duties is not acceptable behavior for a senior member of my staff. 

In  response, Silver Spoon looks up at me from her cellphone, gives a  careless shrug, and said, “I don't know. I'm not her babysitter.” 

I sigh as I realize that, once again, there is Trouble in Paradise between these two. 

At  first I am tempted to call it a fight between them, but I gradually  realize, as I continue to monitor Silver Spoon and Diamond Tiara in  various ways (not all of which are  legal), that Silver Spoon truly doesn't know what is wrong with her  former friend. Silver tries to act careless about it, but the truth is  the exact opposite, in my estimation. 

I  calculate a sixty-seven percent chance that Diamond Tiara yelled at  Silver at some recent point that she wants to be left alone and for  everyone else to get OUT OF HER BUSINESS! 

Secretly,  the sadistic side of me that loathes Diamond Tiara partially enjoys the  misery she is suffering from lately, but most of me feels empty about  it because I had no hand in this whole affair. 

Whatever Diamond Tiara's current problem is, it's stemming from something other than me, and that bothers me a lot. 

I realize, as I sit alone in my private office  at the end of the day in my swivel chair (rank has its privileges)  while looking out the open window on my wall, that I am facing a very  strong ironic situation here. I want Diamond Tiara's soul to be crushed  into dust, but I want it to be done by my hands and I want her to know  that it is me who will ruin her life. 

What the hell am I supposed to do with this situation? I got half of my wish. Diamond Tiara's soul is  crushed right now, but my current problem is the fact I can’t take  credit for it. This is not the perfect revenge that I’ve been building  up to and it’s pissing me off! 

Lately  I have read the secret text messages, sent to me via multiple spies I  have on campus, that say Little Miss Prissy is a practicing member of  bulimia nervosa in the girl's bathroom. On my command, some of them even  took videos or pictures of her in the act, so I know for a fact that  the rumors are true. Little Miss Prissy is having psychological issues  that at least partially stems from low self-esteem and body image. 

I sigh as I steeple my fingers and press them close to my lips. 

What  the hell am I going to do with you, Little Miss Prissy? Your behavior  lately in my office would be grounds enough to fire you if this was  an actual work environment, but I want you close so I can monitor you.  As the old saying goes, keep your “friends” close and your enemies  closer. 

But, at this rate, you are liable to quit on your own accord. It may not be official, but that's the way you are already acting. 

I can see the trends. I've studied you for years, though I doubt you know it. 

Grrrr! I fucking HATE you, Little Miss Prissy! I've spent years  accumulating my resources just so that I could smite you with all the  fury and power of Hell. So many years I spent dreaming and savoring your  inevitable destruction, but then you went ahead and pulled the trigger  on yourself. 

What am I supposed to do now? I had BIG plans for you, and you all but ruined it without even realizing it. 

Must I hold your hand and build you back up again just to get the opportunity to tear you down? Really?! Is that what our lives have come to? 

You’re such a pain in my ass, but I suppose that isn’t really something new to me. 

It makes me sick  to my stomach how nice I had to pretend to be to you in all the time we  have known each other, but now it seems you're starting to force my  hand one step further. 

It's  true that I am legally obligated to render assistance if a member of my  staff starts suffering medical problems, but the problem is the method I  used to attain that information must be kept secret. You don't know  that I know what's going on with you, or at least I possess partial  knowledge of your situation. Better to say I have evidence of your  problems but without knowing why you have these problems. 

When I find out who has been causing you misery, I don't know if I'm going to want to shake their hands or fucking strangle them. 

Silver  has been off her game as well lately, but I have a partial  understanding of her situation. She's concerned for her “friend” but  Diamond is pushing Silver back for some reason, perhaps out of fear of  Silver was getting too close to the truth. Maybe Diamond is also trying  to protect her “friend” from the tragedies that she's suffering from. 

That's  a common symptom of depression, the belief that it must be faced alone.  That suggests some level of humiliation, but I can't quite put my  finger on that yet. 

What  the hell is your problem, Little Miss Prissy? You can have anything you  ever want handed to you on a silver platter and served to you with a  literal and figurative silver spoon. You never had to fight to earn  anything in all of your goddamn life! I, meanwhile, had to struggle to climb myself out of the gutters. How you make me sick! 

I  am interrupted from my train of thought by a knock on my door. In  response, I swivel my chair to face the door. I pause for a brief moment  to regather my composure. I'm the leader of these people, so I can't  let them see the storm cloud above my head. Besides, I can't afford to  reveal any evidence of my true agendas either. 

“Come in!” I bade when I repaired my bright, happy, and innocent mask. 

I  learned that I have to deal with a meeting of a girl named Sunflower  Seeds because Silver Spoon, who should have handled this meeting  instead, just up and left without saying a word. Now I'm down three staff members today, goddamn it, so I'm one of the few left who can address Sunflower's issues. 

When  Sunflower steps into my office, it takes me all of two seconds to size  her up and realize, with an inward groan, what this is all about.  Clearly, judging from her attire, poise, decorations, and mannerism, I'm  going to have to deal with some hippy-dippy bullshit! 

For the record, I have no problem with environmental activists. The planet is important, and we should do our part to take care of it. 

The problem here comes when these people just whine and complain about how much life sucks, as if I didn't know that already, while not proposing any viable solution to fix it. She does have a few ideas how to handle it to her very  thin credit but, unfortunately, they are retarded ideas that did  nothing to realistically weigh the cost/benefit analysis in her favor.  Instead, she drones on and on about why I should care and proposes a few ideas that could have a chance to work but it requires a vast expenditure of resources with the promise of very little return. 

And  this bitch just doesn't shut up! While she rambles on with a bunch of  worthless babble, I keep nodding and smiling. I lean forward on my seat  and do my best to pretend to be interested. She bought my performance so  I personally thought I should win an Academy Award for my act  considering how disinterested I actually am. 

I keep checking the time on the upper corner of my augmented  reality glasses as the prattle continues. After five minutes of this, I  finally decide that enough is enough! If I don't do something to shut  her up, then this might continue for half an hour. 

I  can respect her passion at least. I know it comes from the heart, but I  really do hate wasting my time with meaningless chatter. 

Sunflower Seeds, is it? Hmm. I'll do some digging to see what her weaknesses are. 

Under  my desk, I secretly twist my right wrist sharply to the right. The very  same wrist that wore a bracelet that is designed to monitor muscle  movement of my wrist and hand via electrical impulses. Because of that, a  virtual hand secretly materializes in the perception of my augment  reality glasses. Using that, I navigate and type information as long as that hand happens to be free.  This greatly accelerates my digital management process without having  to rely on the limited function of eye movement tracking all the time.  Besides, Sunflower is openly observing my eyes right now. She'd notice  if my eyes started looking all over the place for apparently no reason,  but I maintain solid eye contact with her while typing away at an  invisible keyboard with my hidden free hand. 

While I continue to sit there and nod like an idiot, I secretly look her up on the internet. I check Facebook  first and cross-reference it with any address local to this town.  Within six seconds I got a hit. I compare her profile picture on  Facebook with her face right in front of me and discover that they  match. 

Bingo! 

So for the next several minutes I sift through her blogs and posts. 

It  turns out I was right about her hobbies as an “active”  environmentalist, but what catches my interest is her Facebook status on  relationships which read, “Complicated”. That piques my interest, so I  did some checking and discovered that “Captain Planet” here had herself a  boyfriend that she later broke up with fairly recently because she suspected him of cheating on her. 

At  first I respect her for making that decision, thinking to myself, “Good  for you, Missy! You don't need some man in your life to be strong and  validated. You can be perfectly happy on your own.” 

But,  as I read on, I later discover she got back together with him even more  recently but she is still concerned that he might cheat on her again. 

I feel like rolling my eyes as I think to myself, “Of course. Silly me for underestimating human stupidity yet again.” 

Still,  my research gives me an idea. I look for her phone number on her  Facebook profile and, sure enough, the bitch lists it in public view of  the whole goddamn world. 

Well great! That just makes my job easier, you stupid cunt! You could have given me an actual challenge, but nooooooooooo. You had to just give it all away. 

I  am a cracker. I would have found a way through your defenses  eventually, but this just means I can get you out of my way all the  sooner. Thank badness! 

Using  the information I have collected on her, I decide to send her an  anonymous text message which warns her that her boyfriend has been  caught cheating on her right now. I even sent her his correct location,  which is information I manage to gain when comparing his name with my  secret records of student profiles on campus and discover which  classroom he's in right now. 

I  didn't specify which girl he is cheating with. I'll leave that to  Sunflower's overly active imagination. That will cover my bases better  rather than giving any specific and potentially suspicious details,  which is also why I give her my message anonymously. If she discovers  this information is false, she won't know who to blame. 

On  the other hand, if she accepts it as true, then I might have done her a  favor by helping her to terminate (again) a toxic relationship for her. 

She should thank me. I’m probably doing her a favor right now. 

But either way, I'll finally get her out of my hair. 

I narrow my eyes at her slightly in smug victory when I observe her noticing the vibration on her cellphone. 

She  checks the message on her phone and, sure enough, that shut her up. She  looks up at me as if silently debating something. The reason for this  meeting is important to her, but I calculate an escalating odds that the  message on her phone is something that would bother her more the longer  she tries to deny it. 

“Um  . . .” Sunflower said in an uncomfortable voice. I also notice her  fidgeting. I know she can't get it out of her mind. My spark has been  set in her flammable mind and it's spreading like wildfire. Oh, it's so  beautiful to behold! I know that she knows that if her boyfriend is  cheating on her right now, she has a limited opportunity to verify it.  She can't afford to waste her time with me, nor my time with her, if she has a limited opportunity to confirm her worst fears. 

“Is  something wrong?” I ask oh so sweetly. “I'm here for you if you need  me. I care about every one of the students here in Canterlot High.” 

“Yeah, I know,” she said with a bit of a smile but it is short lived. 

I continue to smile at her sweetly while secretly thinking, Buh-bye, bitch! See you next never. 

“I, um . . .” She gets up. “I'm sorry. I . . . I have to go.” She starts to turn to leave. 

“Wait!” I call out to her in fake concern. “You waited months  to get this meeting. Are you sure you want to leave so soon? You may  not get another chance for several months because my staff and I are so  busy helping out so many other students. I know how important this  project is to you, and I want to prove  to you that my campaign promises are not a lie. When I said I'd be here  for the students, I really meant it. Please sit down again and share  with me all of your problems and concerns. I want to help. That's what  I'm here for.” 

She looks back at me, clearly torn. For a brief moment I grow nervous that I miscalculated and that she would actually  sit back down again. Despite my clandestine attempts to get rid of her,  I want to look like a hero while doing it, but if my words actually  manage to persuade her to stay then my devious plan has backfired on me.  Maybe I did go too far to convince her to stay. Perhaps I shouldn't have underestimated how important these issues are to her. 

“I, um . . .” She turns to face me again. For a brief moment I almost panic inwardly. 

Then she bows to me, Japanese style. 

“I'm so sorry for wasting your time. Thank you for this wonderful opportunity.” 

I inwardly sigh in relief. 

“Well, if you insist.” I shrug at her. “It seems to me that, whatever that text message was, is very important. If this is a family emergency or anything like that then you absolutely have my permission to pursue it. Do whatever you feel is important. 

“It  seems obvious to me that you will always live by that dedication and  passion. Maybe this meeting is mostly fruitless, but don't give up! Keep  at it. Follow your dreams. With the level of dedication I see in you, I'm sure you can make any dream of yours a reality eventually.” 

“I thank you most sincerely for your kind words,” Sunflower said as she rose from her bow. 

“You’re welcome!” I say with a bright smile. “Now run along, Simba,” I say outwardly, then think inwardly, “and never return!” 

“I will.” She leaves for the door. “Thanks again.” 

“Anytime.”  I continue to hold my happy, fake smile until she closes the door, then  I drop my eyelids halfway as I regard the door drolly. 

Baka. 

I swipe two baoding  balls off of my desk as I twist my chair about towards my window again.  I lean back in my seat a bit. I rest my right elbow on the right arm of  my chair and place my pointer finger on my chin and my thumb gently below the right side of my jaw. Meanwhile I shift the two baoding balls on my left hand round and round to help me think. 

I really am cursed to be surrounded by such idiots. Man oh man, that was aggravating! 

I receive a digital text message in my glasses that reports that Sunflower Seeds's cellphone has just had my digital virus successfully planted in it as an additional consequence of opening my anonymous text message  a moment ago. I get another message that asks where I would like to put  her name. Using my right hand, I hover my virtual hand on her name then  drag it to a folder called “Idiots.” 

After  I deposit her name there, it dawns on me that I may need to start  organizing the “Idiots” folder soon because it's getting pretty crowded  in there, and there are plenty of ways to do it. 

One  thing I have learned while growing up as a member of this repulsive  species is that there are many types, depths, and combinations of  stupidity. Each is fairly unique in it’s  own way, but that does not mean I can't organize it into subfolders. I  just need to take the time to do it eventually, but right now I don't  have the patience. That encounter literally gave me a headache. 

In  an attempt to recover from this trying ordeal, I try to think about the  two most important people in my life that I have very different  problems with: Diamond Tiara and my mother. 

Little  Miss Prissy has been just . . . broken lately. I don't know why she is  that way, but it bothers me. I spent too long struggling to craft my  perfect revenge for her, and if there's one thing I can say about  myself, it's that I'm a natural perfectionist. I really take the time  and effort to get things just right. 

My  mother can well sympathize with that too, although she has been much  more patient with that lately. I guess that just comes with the  territory of being a mother. 

Speaking of my mother, I have her to deal with as well or, more specifically, her pony counterpart. 

Between these two issues, I'm far more concerned with this Princess Twilight Sparkle anomaly because this can have far reaching consequences. If I had  to choose between my plans for revenge and protecting my relationship  with my mother then I'd choose my mother every single time. Without  mother, I'd lose my most valuable resources I've gathered to use against  Little Miss Prissy anyway. 

I'd  rather protect what I have now instead of avenging the loss I suffered  before. As much as it pains me to admit this, the past is in the past.  The future, however, is ahead of me. I need to make sure that it is as  bright as possible. 

Just  then I get a text message from one of my many informants on campus.  This informant is responding to my Shadow Queen persona, not Cozy Glow. I  keep those two identities separate in order to keep Cozy's reputation  spotless. 

I use my virtual hand to point at the message then click it. The message then opens and displays in front of me. 

I read it, then I become intrigued. 

Really?  Sweetie Belle has been asking around about Diamond Tiara's fate lately?  Why? What's her stake in this? From the intel I have gathered so far,  Sweetie Belle should be relieved that Diamond has been absent lately. It  means one less bully is around for Sweetie to suffer. 

I swipe a finger across the message in order to close it. The baoding balls in my left hand rotate faster. I think harder. 

This  is a very unexpected development, and potentially quite fortuitous for  me. I've been debating how to handle Little Miss Prissy's problem, but  Sweetie might just do it for me. 

If  Sweetie continues to investigate this issue, then I'm going to have to  monitor her progress much more carefully. I might even send a drone or  two out to her house to plant bugs in it so I can eavesdrop on her  future conversations. I certainly need to monitor Sweetie's text messages for the next few days at least. 

But the part I don't get is . . . why? Why does Sweetie care? What's in it for her? 

Hmm.  Maybe the answer is staring me right in the face. From what I can tell  of Sweetie, she lives up to her name quite well. By all trustworthy  accounts, she really is quite the sweetheart. That makes me feel all  gushy inside . . . if it's true. 

Some  people are just naturally like that. Some want to watch the world burn,  like me, and others just want to help because they genuinely care for  people. 

Their reasons are irrelevant. 

Nice people are very easy to exploit. They practically hand themselves out on a silver platter. 

“Well  . . . this is unexpected,” I say aloud. “But not wholly unwelcome. Find  out everything you can, Sweetie Belle, then report it back to me. One  way or another, I shall know what you know.” 

I rock back and forth in my chair idly. 

Thanks  to this unexpected development, my problems on this front might be  temporarily solved. All I have to do is monitor Sweetie's progress. I  can't plan on my next move until I gather more intel, and naive little  Sweetie might unwittingly do my work for me. 

God  bless you, Sweetie Belle! You're doing a good thing, and there is a  seventy-five percent chance that you are doing it for good reasons. I  may not care much for your motives at this time and I certainly  despise your target, but you . . . I may have to think of a suitable  reward for you if you manage to help me uncover some information on my  nemesis. I can be a very strict Shadow Queen when I have to be, but I  also always keep an eye on useful pawns. Mark my words, if they  serve me well, I shall reward useful assets. Perhaps I'll upgrade you  to a Knight if you make it to the other end of the chessboard. 

In the meantime, while you take care of that for me, I can fully turn my attention to my Horse-Land problem.
> Chapter Eight: Through the Looking Glass
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

It takes me a week to make my preparations to visit Horse-Land. I figure I would need at least a weekend to investigate the other realm so I need an excuse that would explain my absence for that length of time. For that, I use a real homework project to build the basis of my argument to explain my absence. I can and have finished the project by myself easily enough, but I also claim that there is another student in one of my classes that I volunteer to spend the weekend with in order to help that student catch up.

The interesting thing about that excuse is when my mother attempts to call the parent of the student I claim I would be helping in order to verify if I indeed have permission to hang out at their house for the weekend, I have her call redirect to call a computer program that I scripted. In it, Mom receives a video conference call with an AI program that I design to look like the child's mother. That AI program is scripted to answer almost any question I could think of that my mother would ask. I painstakingly design this program with a very large set of if/then conditions as well as smart algorithms to make up an excuse using the conditions that I preset as a basis. If, for some reason, my mother asks a question that I did not prepare my program for, then the program is scripted to have the call interrupted by the mother's other children and thus cut the conversation short by apparent necessity.

Despite that level of preparation, it didn't get that far. Instead, my mother had a nice but short conversation with a fake copy of a person who actually does exist but will never know this conversation took place.

During that week, I noticed, with a bit of interest, that Sweetie Belle is also absent for two days. I start to grow concern for her until she shows up on the third day, and Diamond Tiara along with her. They did not travel with each other, but I could tell that something important went down between them during Sweetie's absence.

Despite my curiosity, I forcefully set that issue aside for the moment. I have another fish to fry.

When the weekend rolls in, I board the bus after hugging my mother goodbye. I promise her that I would call on occasion during my absence, but that is yet another lie (although I potentially could if I do manage to return from Horse-Land early). Instead, yet another AI program, this one programmed to look and act like me, will call her instead so Mother will not worry.

Once I am on the bus, however, I get off at the very next stop. The bus driver looks at me in confusion. I explain to him that I forgot something important at home so I need to go back to get it. The bus driver gets an, “Ah! I see,” kind of look then explains to me that he can't give me a refund or wait for me to return, but he does give me a transfer slip that is good for the rest of the afternoon. I thank him with my new, ultimately pointless, prize then disembark the bus.

I sneak back to my home again and wait for my mother to leave. When she does, I approach the home to initiate the next phase of my mission.

Getting back into my own home is the easy part. I have the key, after all. The trickier part is logging onto my mother's administrative account to the computerized home security system just so I could erase any evidence of my return to home, but again . . . not too difficult for me. I know my mother and I know her passwords, even though I shouldn't. Such things are trivial to a genius cracker of my level of skill. There is no way this computer system can match my code fu with machines.

I also activate a program that puts our robot dog K-9 to sleep. Moreover, if anyone checks her software, they'll discover that she thought she is active the whole time she is asleep. I designed a virtual reality of the house for “her” to explore during the few minutes I return to be observed.

It is the security system to the basement that I spent the majority of my time preparing a week for, aside from the two AI programs I had to script to fool my mother.

Getting past the password lockout on the door is not too much trouble. After all, I have a hidden camera in the hallway aiming at the digital keypad all week long. She could change the password every hour if she wanted to. It does not matter when I am recording it every single time.

The real problem is the retinal scanner on the door. That one took some time to design a bypass. For that, I had to access the information from Mom's augmented reality glasses. It's not just capable of tracking eye movement, it's also a retinal scanner.

However, the information of that scan isn't stored in the glasses themselves, it is stored in our cellphones, and I had that one bugged a long time ago.

In fact, I was pretty proud of it because my mom has a pretty good security system on her phone which she designed. My program had to be subtle enough not only to bypass her firewalls, but also remain undetected on her phone while in use. Information as large as a retinal scan data took a long time to upload into the cloud because it only did it a few bits at a time, and only during moments my mother used the internet for something else.

Still, I succeed eventually. Once I had that information, I create a virtual reality image of her eye and have it uploaded to my phone. Then, when I type in the correct password on to the basement (after checking the latest video footage to make sure my mom didn’t change it again), I flip my glasses around and aim the inside lens of it at the retinal scanner. When it activates, it scans a recreated virtual copy of my mother's eye.

That was tricky for me to design during this past week. I had to painstakingly improve the design of that eye over and over again until it was flawless. I had also tested it with other retinal scanners just to be sure I got it right until the probability of a successful bypass was one-hundred percent, but to do that I had to make sure the glasses are aiming at the scanner in just the right way.

Yatta! The quest is successful! I may have gained enough experience points to gain a level as a hacker after that success.

I open the rather thick metal door that would be an envy of every military bomb shelter. Beyond, I see the stairs descend below me and out of sight due to the shadows. I feel along the wall for the light switch. LED light strips on both corners of the ceiling light my way.

Okay. From now on, this is new territory for me.

I descend down the stairs.

The lights in the room turn on in cascade upon entering. I discover that this basement is more like a shrine to a mad scientist. I am surrounded by organized chaos of machinery and half-finished projects.

In the midst of rudimentary stuff, I also notice several chalkboards filled to the brim with math equations. I try to ignore them, but they call for me. Those equations look pretty advanced which means they are a puzzle and my mind is starving for that shit. They might not be complete. Perhaps I could complete them, but then my mom would know I messed with her stuff?

I forcefully rip my gaze away from those puzzle boards which call out to my very soul. I don't have time for this!

I search around more carefully. Then, at last, I locate what I suspect I'm looking for. It is a decently sized contraption towards the back which surrounds a mirror.

As I approach it, I notice that my reflection is indeed in the mirror. The outfit I see myself wearing is a pink, one-piece Sunday dress. My white socks rise four inches past my knees. I'm wearing tiny black shoes with a small black strip over my feet to help secure them.There is a small white-collar extending down my neck. I'm still wearing my heart monitor/watch on my left wrist. Today I am also wearing my tiny golden heart-shaped locket. In it, one side has a picture of me hugging my mother to the side of me as we both face towards the camera. On the other side of the locket is cursive words, “Mommy and Me.”

A few tears squeeze up my eyes as I behold my tiny locket hanging on my neck in my reflection. This is a small reminder to me of what I'm fighting for.

Looking across the machine, I figure out how to turn it on. This part is pretty simple. It's just a button next to a computer monitor. When I press it, I wait for it to boot up. While it does, I fight to restrain my fear.

Here comes one of the scary parts. This computer is probably locked with a password of its own, and this time I do not have any video footage to show me the answer. This machine does not seem to have a way for me to interface with it, either, other than the keyboard and built-in mouse. I am going to have to get past this one the old fashion way.

Sure enough, a password screen pops on before it displays the desktop of the computer’s custom operating system.

Okay. I think back. I'm going to have to guess this one based on my knowledge of my mother.

I take a deep breath, then release it.

Here goes.

I first type in, “Equestria.”

The computer reports, “Incorrect password. Try again.”

I pause for a moment as I think about this again.

I can expect this system to have a smart design. My mother is no dummy. If I enter the incorrect password multiple times in a few minutes, it is probably programmed to enhance the security. It will probably challenge me with other questions to further verify my identity. During that time, it will lock the system down even tighter.

Meanwhile, I have to fire password attempts almost completely blindly.

She really might have typed a password which is a thirty-two digits long or more which is full of random letters, capitalized and lowercase, numbers, and symbols. If she went that far, I have a point zero-zero-zero-zero-zero-zero-zero-zero-zero-zero-zero-zero-zero-zero-zero-zero-eight-onepercent chance to get this right. I pretty much wouldn't have a chance at this, but I did not start this mission running on that assumption. My mom is not just a random string producing algorithm. She leads by her heart just as much as she does her head, so what is dear to her heart?

I think hard about this, then an answer pops into my head. I type, “Cozy Glow.”

The computer reports, “Incorrect password. Try again.”

I sigh. That’s disappointing.

Well, it was worth a shot. After that, it occured to me . . . this machine isn't just about me. She loves me, I’m pretty sure of that, but this portal leads to the magical realm of Horse-Land. My mother's counterpart came through a portal like that first. Before her, it was Sunset Shimmer. Before that . . . unknown, but somebody designed and opened these portals in the first place. God only knows who.

God may know, but my mother doesn't, so I have to base this off of her knowledge and feelings. What would it be with a machine like this?

It is a portal between two separate worlds that is similar but also very unlike our own. Beyond that portal is a world of magic but, to my mother, it has deeper meaning than that. It is not just a land of magic, but also a land that has a loose reflection of those she cares about in this world.

Another answer pops into my head. I reach for the keyboard but then hesitate. This will be the third wrong attempt if I fail this. There is at least a sixty percent chance that security measures will ramp up if I get the third attempt wrong. Am I really sure?

I pull my fingers back from the keyboard as I analyze this situation a lot more carefully. I decide to dissect this by analyzing every observable component to me.

For a moment I study the paint of the keyboard itself to ascertain if any of them look a little more worn than the others, but I discover too many look worn. My mother must have used this keyboard extensively at one time, probably when she first programmed the machine.

My mind runs at full gear. For me, the best way to analyse this problem is to visualize a chessboard. Every piece on the board represents a different nugget of fact that I am aware of that matters to my mother. One of the pieces is me, another is herself (I mentally assign her piece the white King), others are her friends, family, acquaintances, pets, and situations such as her job.

In my head, I move all pieces across the board in a way I predict my mother would have played the game. Every decision she made, every fact she observed, every reaction to that observation is represented in the chessboard in my head.

white pawn to A-6, black pawn to A-3, white pawn to E-6, black knight to H-3, white pawn advances from E-6 to E-7

At first I see the pieces move one at a time but, as I continue to observe this, the pieces move faster and faster. At first they are moving one piece every four seconds, then three seconds, then two, then one, then 2 per second, 3 per second, and so on.

Faster and faster. My mother's life plays out in my head.

Growing up isolated in Crystal Prep. Meeting her destined friends in the Friendship Games initially as an opponent. Her time in Camp Everfree.

Faster and faster!

Eighteen moves per second. Thirty-two moves per second. The pieces blink across the board faster than the eye can see. Barely one is on the board long enough before it moves again.

The whole game is like constant sparkling lights. Each piece blinks in and out of existence, dancing around each other. Black and white, constantly pushing and pulling at each other.

In my mind, I test every reality. Every possible scenario. Of all the infinite choices she could have made in life, it all resulted in this moment. This watered-down conclusion that funnels to a single point.

Over and over again I play the game. Each time it ends, I reset the board and play again, this time with different choices. Different paths Mom could have walked, but they all lead here to this moment. This inescapable conclusion, at least for this reality.

Sometimes, when the game resets, I restructure what each piece of the game represents. First it was those closest to her, then I moved away from that to other things upon future resets.

Meanwhile I keep tally of the game results. Every game that concludes with a certain probable direction, I keep track of that in order to compare it to the other test results.

No answer is perfect, but the one my mind keeps coming back to is my third theory. Not “Equestria”, not “Cozy Glow”, but . . .

I type, “Friendship is Magic,” then hit enter.

The computer reports, “Access Granted,” then changes to a primitive-looking DOS type screen, complete with blinking green square at the upper left corner.

I breathe a HUGE sigh of relief! That is a major hurdle I just overcame. If I didn't gain enough experience points with the last door, then this one definitely advances me a level.

Then I pause and think, “Friendship is Magic?” Really? She chose that over me?

Huh. No accounting for taste, I guess, but, to her, I guess that is the meaning of life. She used to be defined only by the knowledge she had, but now she prioritized friendship as the major focus of her life.

I wonder why... Friendship is so flimsy. It's only a game of pretenses.

The truth is, relationships are more like the Stock Market. Everything in life is buy and sell. It's a game of competition to see how you can come out with the most stuff, whatever that may be.

There is no such thing as true “friendship”, only temporary alliances of convenience. When the convenience ends, the alliance ends. Today's “friendships” might be tomorrow's “enemies”, and vice versa.

It's always changing and shifting depending on the needs of the individuals, but mortal humans cannot avoid one inescapable truth; in a world with limited resources, only the strong survive. It's kill or be killed when there isn't enough to sate everyone’s desires.

Smart people have realized that a long time ago, and they also realize why it's smart to limit sharing that knowledge. The more information is shared, the more advantage a potential opponent may get.

As smart as my mother is, she still believes there is more to the world than that basic fact of life. I pity the poor fool. I guess it's up to me to protect her from the ugly truth. I'll let her keep her meaningless fantasies. While she does that, I'll focus on what it actually takes to succeed in life; for me and for her.

I type, “Engage portal,” then press enter.

I look at the mirror as I see several machines around it come to life. Energy symmetrically swirls to the sides of the machine then gathers together to shoot a blast of a magical beam at the mirror. At that moment the mirror ceases to be a mirror and instead becomes a portal.

I look upon it, realizing that an even greater challenge lies ahead of me. I might have been blind to the activities in this room, but what is beyond that portal isn't even part of my world.

Also, there is no way of knowing what is on the other side until I step through. I am stepping through this totally blind.

There is a substantial risk that those on the other side might see the portal open and recognize me on sight as soon as I step through. Guards might be posted on the other side at all times to monitor anyone who travels through. Princess Twilight is a royal princess. She'll have plenty of personnel to spare for tasks like that.

This isn't just a risk, it is a substantial risk, but necessary for me to press forward. If I want to gather information, I'll have to do this myself.

I pause a moment to hide my augment reality glasses and heart monitor. I don’t want to risk them getting damaged after my mother told me about what happened to a test cellphone. After that I return my attention to the mirror, brace myself, then step through the looking glass.
> Chapter Nine: Welcome to Horse-Land
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Not only did a rainbow of colors stretch around me, but so did I. I feel myself stretch into a spaghettification I heard about that theoretically occurs for those caught in a black hole. A daunting thought occurs to me, should I have set the coordinates to Equestria before I entered? Is a wormhole without the end-point just a singularity?

But before I know it, I arrive on the other side. I wobble back and forth due to how dizzy I feel, and then I lose my balance. As I fall forward, I try to push against the ground to weaken the impact. Instead, that action ended up steadying me.

Huh?

I look down, and then it hits me.

Oh yeah! Horses are quadrupeds.

Horses are quadrupeds. I'm a quadruped now, so it means I'm now a HORSE! Oh my GOD! It really happened!

I feel so giddy over this fact that I inadvertently cause a horse whinny, then I pause to absorb that fact.

Did I just whinny now? Oh my GOD! That's so adorable! And weird...

I'm really a horse now! I have got to find a mirror asap.

Also . . . I'm apparently naked now. I know for a fact that I entered my universe with clothes on, but this universe is shaking its head and going, “Nah-ah. Nope. We don't do that 'clothes' thing in Horse-Land.”

I pause in shock when I realize something, then urgently look down at my neck. I see my golden locket still there, and I breathe a sigh of relief.

Oh good! I still have my precious locket. You can have my pink dress if you insist, Horse Universe, but don’t you dare touch my locket!

My locket? Actually, I'm curious now.

I reach my right hoof to lift it closer but it falls off. I blink at it, then droop my eyes at it halfway.

Okay, now here's a puzzle. How the hell am I able to open it now? I want to see if the picture inside of me and Mom have been ponified, but my new physical “hoofy” caps leave much to be desired in terms of useful functionality.

For two minutes, I try in vain to get it open. I try a combination of using one hoof, then hoof and mouth, then sit on my tushie as I try to fiddle with it using both of my forehooves. The most success I get is with both hooves and my mouth, but I could not get my teeth into the groove of the locket enough to pry it open.

Damn it! These hooves are useless unless I only plan on walking with them.

Come to think of it, isn't it less sanitary to manipulate things with the very appendages I walk upon?

Again, my eyelids droop.

I try to remind myself that applying logic to Horse-Land is likely not a good idea. This world operates on its own set of rules. Here, I am just a level one player. Probably not much better than a little filly.

It finally occurs to me to check my surroundings.

I look around and notice, to my relief, that I am alone in this room. Apparently they don't post guards on this side constantly. What fools. I know I would, Your Majesty!

Actually, this room appears to be a storage area for . . . stuff. Unidentified stuff to me.

On second thought, this room appears quite close to my mother's basement. It's all organized chaos. Random gadgets and knickknacks are spread out all over the place. This looks like a mad scientist's botched attempt to invent something to take over the world, or at least the tri-state area. The main difference between the stuff here and my mother's basement is the tech here is much more primitive. More steam-punk'ish.

In fact, one of the core components on this side of this magical mirror appears to be an accordion.

Freaky.

Curiously, there appears to be no windows in this room, nor are there any visible light sources, yet I can see in this room just fine. Do ponies have darkvision?

As I continue to look around, I eventually spot the answer, and it takes my breath away. The reason this room isn't dark is because the walls are made of crystal. Amethyst, by the looks of it. That crystal wall is capturing the light from outside and causing the crystal to glow. The condition for that likely requires it to remain daylight outside. If I’m right, I’m going to have a lot of lighting trouble in this room when it becomes nighttime outside.

It is daylight on my world too, so these two appear to be synchronized somewhat in that regard. That’s an interesting note to self.

I attempt to roll myself back onto my four hooves, but it is tricky. I do manage it except I also end up stumbling about like an idiot.

Okay. That's a problem. I'm definitely going to be suspicious in this world if I keep stumbling about like a newborn baby. Time to practice walking . . . or trotting, I correct myself. Since I'm alone and not being observed for the moment, it means I have this chance to practice in privacy. Thank goodness for some blessings.

Then something startling occurs to me.

I whip my head at the machine I just came from and take a closer look at it. The technology on it is very different from my world, but it does present at least a passing similarity to my mother's machine. It's about as similar as these ponies are to humans. The mirror is flanked by old fashion coils and shiny copper wires. At the top is something that resembles a harp.

Then, to the side, I notice another smaller mirror. I take a closer look at it. It reflects the furry quadrupedal version of me as a mirror should, but I can't shake the feeling that there is something special about it. Based on where it is placed, this mirror is in the same relative space as my mother's computer screen, except this “screen” does not have a keyboard beneath it.

Instead of a keyboard, there are two rods pointing diagonally up away from each other. They also have rings hovering around them.

I tap one of the rods with my right forward hoof very gingerly. It does not give at all, but the rings do slightly. I end up pushing it about an inch but then it immediately stabilizes itself with the rod in the exact center of the rings.

I study this contraption, then something occurs to me that makes my heart sink. I know of two ponies for sure who probably aided in the construction of this thing on this side, Princess Twilight Sparkle and my mother. Unlike Princess Twilight, my mother does not get wings when she is ponified, but she does gain a horn. That means both women are unicorns to some extent, so it would be logical if the machine on this side absolutely requires a horn to operate.

Well, that's certainly one way to secure this machine. As I understand it, roughly two-thirds of all ponykind do not have a horn. They would not stand a chance to use this thing if my hypothesis is correct.

That’s just fricken racist!

Come to think of it . . .

I look back and notice, for the first time, that I have a pair of wings. They match the color of my coat which, in turn, matches the color of my skin as a human. I seem to be a mostly dull pink teenaged mare.

I look back at the mirror that passes for a computer monitor on this side. Since it is not yet “activated”, it just shows my reflection.

I apparently still have my hairband on my head with the two Red Rook symbols on the sides. My hair is still teal color and lighter teal color, and they are all done up on many short curls. I also still have my cute little symmetrical freckles and reddish-brown eyes.

But that is where the similarity ends. It's the face that really gets me. The shape of the face is closer to a pony but more human-like than I expected because the snout barely juts out at all. As far as differences go, my attention are really drawn to my ears. They are thick, pointy ears that are further up the sides of my head, almost to the top of my head. As I concentrate on them, I notice I can almost control the direction they are facing.

Oh my GOD, Cozy Glow! You are so adorable right now!

I just want to hug you.

And squeeze you.

And pinch you.

And love you to itty-bitty widdle pieces.

. . .

Wow! I feel so psychotic all of the sudden.

I try a vast variety of facial expressions in front of the mirror to see what I look like in pony form. I try happy, sad, annoyed, silly, stone serious, fearful, angry, surprised, and overjoyed. For each one, I observe carefully how I look.

Wow, this is so fun! It's like looking at various cartoon meme faces. I wish I had my camera! I'd take a selfie of these facial expressions for damn sure!

I also do something like this in the human world sometimes. It's good to know what others see when I try on various expressions. After all, visual input is a very key component to communication and manipulation.

Just about every expression I try deepens my giddy feeling of being super cute in this form. Even my most annoyed scowls raise a giggle out of me inwardly.

Dear god, this is too fun! However, I better get a move on, otherwise a whole day may pass me by.

Alright.

I turn away from the mirror.

Time to practice trotting again . . .

. . .

. . .

. . . right after I check my cutie mark.

I bring my head back around as much as I can and attempt to shift my hindquarters at an angle to assist my assessment, but then it occurs to me that there is a better way to do this. This room has no shortage of mirrors, after all.

But, for this one, I go to the big mirror, the one I had stepped out of and into this world. Now that it is closed, it became a basic mirror once again. Unlike the “computer monitor” one, the portal mirror is way taller and oval-shaped instead of circular. From there, I easily steer my flank into view of the mirror and gaze at the reflection. It reveals . . .

. . . a Red Rook chess piece.

Huh.

I blink.	

I suppose I should have seen that one coming. Now I'm even more grateful that I didn't use it as my cracker alias. It really would have been too on the nose.

Then I get contemplative.

A Red Rook cutie mark. That means it's symbolically who I am, at least according to the perception of this universe.

I contemplate the possibility that my pony counterpart got the same cutie mark. If she did, did she gain it at the same time? At what point in my life had I earned mine? Or is it that I never truly had it until I stepped through the portal?

I didn't have this butt tattoo before I walked through the mirror, but this pony universe seemed to recognize some maturity in me and somehow this mark is chosen as the best representation for me, but who decides that? Me, or some other entity in this world?

That is a really deep philosophical discovery because it raises a lot of questions about inner identity, symbolic representation, and destiny versus free will. What does this really mean? Are we all just pawns on a chessboard played by sadistic higher powers?

I wish I could consult an organization that specifically dealt with cutie mark questions.

Then it occurs to me that, in this world, there just might be such an organization. Don't know how I'm ever going to find it, though, assuming one exists at all.

I shake my head hard.

Aw man! I need to stop getting side-tracked. These are all very interesting questions and observations, but I have a mission to complete and a whole world to explore to do it.

And I only have one weekend to complete my survey before my absence starts to get noticed in my world.

For that matter, how am I going to get back at all? I can't digitally hack this system or guess the password. I very likely need a horn to operate these controls.

I glance back at the mirror. So . . . I need a unicorn. Good to know where I stand, at least.

I may not have a horn, but I do have a brain, and I am good at using it to get others to do what I want.

So, again, first things first. Time to practice “trotting”.

After that, let's see if I can find something to disguise myself. After all, there’s a good chance that I might be identified by the locals if I'm not prepared, and there is a chance that will not be a good thing for me.
> Chapter Ten: Let me down!
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

After literally needing to push open the door of the room with my face, I veer my head back and spit out the taste of doorknob from my mouth.

Okay, who was the fucking genius in this world who decided that ponies should have rounded doorknobs on their doors when they only have fucking hooves to open it?

This is beyond ridiculous! This is absolutely insane!

I could barely get my mouth around it, too. Once I did, I had to twist my head to the side and risk breaking my goddamn neck in the process!

It really seems as if this stupid thing was not designed for ponies. It's more like a way to imprison ponies until other species with hands . . . or maybe also magic horns . . . opens it for them.

GodDAMN it! How is this species still alive when they are . . . this . . . DUMB?!

And I thought my species is stupid, but this is a whole new dimension of pure, asinine retardation.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath, trying to calm down.

It works.

I open my eyes and assess my new surroundings.

Okay . . . wow! This whole place seems to be made of that same purple crystal. I wonder if that's true for the whole town, or even the whole world.

Taking a closer examination of it, I notice another fascinating detail. There seems to be no seam or crease to the walls at all. It is as if the castle was grown straight out of the ground.

I look ahead and then behind me. I am apparently in a hallway designed with a kind of slow, gradual curve. Architecturally, it's really quite fascinating.

I may not be an expert in the field myself (though I probably could be if I really set my mind to it), but I do like to study architectural designs on the internet.

For some reason the ancient Greek designs fascinate me the most, probably because of my love of geometry and appreciation for its early development in mankind's history.

That said, a lot of modern designs are deliberately creative. It's really quite amazing how far we've come with that in my world.

See, Cozy? You're not always a pessimist.

My ears steer forward as I hear some talking creatures approach. I briefly panic because I'm too exposed. I'm still wearing nothing other than my necklace and headband. If anybody from this dimension has met the other Cozy Glow, I'd be easily recognizable right now as long as I lack any kind of disguise.

With no other cover I can think of, I press my back against the door beside me. That only provided the door frame itself as my cover. This isn't going to work at all.

Well, I could try going through the door, genius!

But there is one problem with that.

I turn around and glare at my most hated nemesis for the moment, a common doorknob.

So . . . we meet again, Mr. Doorknob.

I shut my eyelids halfway.

Come on, Cozy Glow! Seriously, think! There has got to be a better way of doing this.

I assess my current resources. When I take a moment to take stock of it, my wings come to mind.

So far I have not tried to move them at all. Maybe they can better solve my current doorknob dilemma?

I better hurry. Those creatures are getting closer.

I focus hard on one of my wings, the right in this case, as I reach my mind to try to stretch the new, alien appendage. It works a little, but my mind is having a hard time processing this sensation. To compensate, I try to imagine it as one of my arms or hands.

It works a little better. They budge a bit more.

Then I change my tactics. Instead of trying to control them, I instead focus on merely feeling them. I even brush my right wing against the door in order to register the sensation. In this way, I am trying to train my brain to recognize the existence of the alien appendage.

I could almost feel my mind swiftly forming new neural pathways in an effort to compensate for this startling new information.

My second attempt to move my right wing is far more successful. The wing stretches from my side. I even manage to spread individual feathers on my wing like spreading fingers on my human hands.

Fascinating!

Hello, New Appendage. My name is Cozy Glow. Since you are now a new part of my body, let's try to get along, shall we? Come on. Work with me here.

I know it's a long shot, but I stretch my wing and try to “grasp” the doorknob with the tips of my feathers. I am stunned to not only see this strategy working, but I could also feel the doorknob with the tips of my feathers as if my feathers have nerves in them.

In that case, would I scream in agony if anyone tries to cut my hair? Can I also grasp things with my hair . . . I mean mane . . . too?

Geeze! This world sure has weird, quirky logic.

Anyway, I manage to grasp then twist the doorknob open. After that, I ram my whole body into the door to push it open.

I step inside then quickly scan the new room to see if the coast is clear. It is.

Stepping inside, I lean forward a bit and peak around the door.

There are two creatures approaching this area. One looks like an ordinary horse if it isn't for the unusual colors he had and the fact he could talk, and the other creature is . . . a griffin? They have mythological griffins in this world?

Well, if they have pegasi and unicorns then hey! Why the hell not?

It seems the griffin can talk, too. This starts to make me wonder what kinds of species in this world can't talk.

I shut the door with a wing. I even manage to do it more quickly and smoothly. I then regard my new appendage.

Okay. You are useful. I'm glad we are getting to know each other.

Since my wing did not respond, I fold it on my back again as I think to myself, “Okay. Good talk.”

Then I pause and assess my new room.

Well, it looks a lot like the first room, except this one is much smaller and it is furnished for someone to live here instead of merely acting as a storage space. This room has a bed, a desk with a mirror behind it, and lots of pictures hanging around the mirror. There are a bunch of books on the sides of the desk and unfinished scrolls on the middle of the desk.

Using my wings, I sift through some of the books and scrolls. When I read the first few lines, I narrow my eyes at the text and give a thin smile. As I suspected, it is written in Equestrian script, but I actually came prepared for that, thanks to Sunset Shimmer.

“Really?” Sunset had once asked me when I first showed interest in the subject. “But . . . why? Why would you want to be able to read Equestrian script? We don't live in Equestria, so it's kind of a dead language around here.”

At the time, the real reason I wanted to be taught Equestrian script was to be able to read her texts on her magical laptop once I find a way to hack into her computer.

But, of course, that is not what I told her. Instead, I gave her a half-truth. I told her that I was interested in learning in order to challenge my mind. I also told her that it was unknown how long magical portals existed between our two worlds. It was possible it may have existed for centuries. In that case, I might find other Equestrian scripts in our world if I continue investigating this, and I wanted to be prepared for that. I knew that Sunset Shimmer came from Horse-Land and she knew the language, which made her a very rare resource for me. Plus, if I learn this, then I could pass it onto others. I could use it like a secret code language.

Sunset shrugged and said that sounded reasonable to her. She continued to regard it as a very unusual request, but it also pleased her to realize I was so eager to learn her native language. Sunset then admitted that it would be nice to communicate with another using Equestrian script because that, in turn, could help her keep up her own practice with it as well.

“Use it or lose it,” Sunset realized, then beamed at me happily. “Sure, Cozy! I'd love to teach you! I am a teacher, after all. Spreading knowledge to eager young students like you really brightens up my day.”

I secretly narrowed my eyes at her slightly even as I gave her a bright, grateful smile.

I knew you'd say that. You goody-two-shoes types are sooooo predictable, but that does not mean useless. When your heart bleeds in the water like this, you shouldn't be surprised when a shark eventually takes a bite out of you.

“Checkmate, Sunset! You've fallen right into my trap!”

Thanks to Sunset's earlier training, which I mostly gained as an e-mail correspondence to and from Sunset in Equestrian script (I even completed a lot of homework assignments using that method), I am able to get the gist of these books and notes right now.

Speaking of homework assignments, that appears to be the vast majority of the contents on this desk. The format of the books, as well as the notes written on the desk, appear to be largely academic, except there is one thing unusual about it. It does seem to focus some on common academic stuff, but a vast majority of these texts seem to emphasize the importance of friendship in some form or fashion.

Because of these notes and textbooks, I calculate a sixty-seven percent chance there is a school nearby that puts an emphasis on that repulsive subject alone.

In fact, the more I think about it, the more I realize that the room I'm standing in isn't just someone's personal bedroom, it's a school dormitory.

Fascinating . . . and ultimately irrelevant. I know that “friendship” is just a pretty label to dress up an ugly truth, but these ponies or creatures or whatever they are can waste their time with such frivolities if they want to. The more they blind themselves to the truth, the easier it will be for people like me to exploit them, and that is A-Okay in my book.

Well, this may be a student dormitory, but guess what one thing it doesn't have.

Yeah. I guessed it . . . clothes! Fricken clothes! One of the most common things in my world seems suspiciously absent here. Of course the one thing I came in here specifically looking for, I find everything but.

Even in these pictures. This . . . weird . . . hawk/horse thingy. It can't be a griffin. I saw one of those already. That seemed more like an eagle/lion combo, but this creature has more pony parts instead.

Of course, if that is true, why is there so much sea-themed memorabilia on her desk? This doesn't add up.

Oh well. It doesn't matter. This room lacks what I came for, so I should stop wasting my time here.

I look back at the door and steer my ears towards it too. I hear more activity starting to rise out there. It might mean the students at some local college are returning soon. I hear several talking among each other outside. The volume of theirs is acutely starting to rise.

The odds are escalating that the one who lives in this room will return soon. If she returns and finds me standing here, it's going to be a hassle to explain myself, and yet I can't venture out of this room without being caught either.

Damn it! What am I going to do?

I look around more carefully, then spot something that is a possible salvation, a window to this room. A small circular window with a t-shaped bar in the center of it.

Chance!

I approach it while praying desperately that it has the capacity to swing open. That should help with ventilation of the room, after all. It should be a safety hazard to not have it open. Besides, it can serve as an emergency exit, which is exactly what I need right now.

Still, I am concerned. Logic and this world have not gotten along, as far as I can tell.

I am lucky! This window can indeed open. It is somewhat high, though. I had to pull up the chair and stand on it just to reach it, and that is merely to open the window. Climbing up to it required me to leap a bit. I latch my frontal hooves and wings over the windowsill. My bottom hooves flail frantically, scratching at the amethyst wall in an effort to climb up.

Eventually I succeed, but then I face a new problem . . . getting down from the other side.

At first it looks easy. The ground on the other side is only about six to eight feet down.

As I stare at it, however, something I don't expect happens to me. The distance seems to magnify for a brief moment then return to normal. The ground on the other side feels a lot further away than it actually is.

I panic, which really catches me off guard. I have no idea why I feel this way, but the “short” fall on the other side has really rattled me for some reason.

I don't believe this! It's only six to eight feet down. Where the hell are all these feelings inside me coming from?

I try to inch my way to the edge to examine my options better, but that explosive sense of panic snaps me back against the window on the outside. Pushing against it with my back, I inadvertently shut the window from the other side. I now have no room to maneuver in order to open the window again from the outside.

I'm stuck! I can't go back the way I came but I can't advance forward either because . . . I'm scared of heights?

This is pathetic! I must be the only goddamn pegasus in the world right now that is actually scared of heights!

My frontal hooves press hard on the sides of the windowsill to help hold me in place. My back and wings are pressed to the window. I hyperventilate. I feel my blood pressure dropping. I may not have my watch on me, but I know the signs. My head clogs up. My throat and nose clog up. I feel pressure rising on my eardrums. It feels like it's pushing outward.

My panic deepens when I realize I don't have my inhaler or insulin injection. Even if I had recalled to bring it, however, there is no guarantee it would not have been modified anyway. If I brought my inhaler, for example, what guarantee do I have that it wouldn't transform into a sugar cube? My locket seems unmodified, but my clothes disappeared entirely. Currently that is one of my biggest problems besides my current dilemma.

I feel dizzy. The world is spinning around me. For once, I am not prepared to counter this. I knew I might face unexpected problems in Horse-Land, but goddamn it! Not even thinking about bringing my inhaler or emergency insulin really is my bad.

I'm going to fall at this rate. I'm just too dizzy, and yet the height really bothers me for some reason.

My heart pumps harder and harder in my chest. After a while, it becomes the only thing I can hear. That and an intense ringing in my ears that grows louder and louder, drowning out everything else.

The world fades to black in my perception.

“Help me!” a much younger version of my voice cries out in the darkness. “I'm ready to get down now. Please let me down! I'll be a good girl! I promise! I won't be scared anymore. Just please . . . somebody help me! Please! I'm stuck.

	“Let me down! Let me down! Let me down! Let me down!” the young voice repeats in my mind over and over again.

In an instant, my perception snaps back awake.

Oh, damn it! Is this where the feeling of panic is coming from? Not that goddamn dream again! I thought I was fucking over this years ago, but apparently not.

I bang my head against the window behind me several times while I mentally berate myself.

Damn it! Damn it! This can't be happening to me! I am Cozy Glow, the Shadow Queen! What would my minions think of me if they saw me behaving this weak and pathetic now? I am an intelligent, talented, and charismatic leader! I can conquer any puzzle or challenge in front of me. Now fucking ACT LIKE IT!

I look around. There has got to be a rational way to handle this, like say . . . my fucking wings? I am a goddamn pegasus right now, am I not?

I look over my shoulder at my wings, then realize that I did not have enough practice with them to consider them reliable. True, they are an option, but maybe not the only one or even the best one.

I close my eyes and force myself to take a deep, calming breath.

Okay, think Cozy Glow. It's what I’m best at. Examine everything. There is no puzzle I can't overcome. That's just who I am.

I peak over the edge again. I fight back a reflexive sense of panic and really try to examine my situation as it is.

It's just six to eight feet. This should be no biggie. The worst that can happen is spraining an ankle, but there is only a two point eight-zero percent chance that something deadly will happen like breaking my back or snapping my neck. It's not that far down! Only my fears are magnifying the distance because of that stupid dream I had many years ago.

For a brief moment my mind spins with the possibility of the worst-case scenario. Cozy Glow . . . one of the greatest geniuses in earth's history is killed in some foreign world and in the body of an alien species. How long would it take for anyone to realize I am missing in my world? How long would it take for local residents to identify my body? When that comes to pass, I could just imagine the message on my tombstone. “Here lies Cozy Glow, the only fucking pegasus to die from a six foot drop. Unbelievable!”

I shake my head. It does not help my situation to get lost in my imagination.

Then I notice something, I'm holding my place right now by pressing both of my hooves against opposite sides of the windowsill. I may not have fingers in this form in order to cling to the windowsill, but maybe, if I could turn around and lower myself while continuing to push outward on both sides of the window, I can lower the distance for myself safely before I make the final drop.

If worse comes to worse, I can also use my wings to glide down. How much effort does it take to just hold them straight?

There is a part of my mind that nags me that there must be a better way to handle this, but screw it! I just want to go down already! I'm tired of panicking up here. It makes me feel pathetic, and I hate that feeling! Weaknesses within me must be destroyed without mercy!

So I attempt my plan . . . carefully. I inch my way around until my front side is facing the window. Then, from there, I slowly lower to my knees then slide them off the edge of the windowsill. While I'm doing that, I push outwardly on both sides of the windowsill. The pressure of that push helps me hold my place.

I feel panic attempt to rise within me again when I feel my legs dangling over the edge of the window uselessly. There is no latch that they can find. At this point most of my weight is over the edge anyway. I've crossed the point of no return.

My hooves scrape the edge of the windowsill. I'm slipping!

I push out harder. It momentarily works, but it is an enormous muscle strain, and I've never been one to be athletic. My legs in pony form do seem to be a bit stronger, but not by much.

My rear hooves scrape over and over again against the wall in panic. They want to find a perch, but find none.

Panic clouds my mind again. I struggle against it so hard, but this situation isn't sustainable. I've got to let go! I need to take the plunge. I've already lowered myself as much as I could. It's probably only a three foot drop now, but it feels so much further!

My panic really skyrockets when the door to the room I came from opens. A weird hawk/pony thing enters the room and dumps her book bags, which look more like saddlebags, inside her room near the door. She has mostly white feathers across her body except along her top. There she has a mixture of purple and blue streak of feathers running down her head, neck, and along the top of her back. For two seconds she is waving goodbye to someone else I can't see. When she looks forward, however, she freezes upon sighting me clinging desperately on the other side of her window.

Being caught like this raises my emotions beyond my ability to control, especially since I still don't have a disguise at all. Before I think of any way to remedy this, I fall.

I scream as I fall. It really is only a three foot drop, but goddamn did it feel like so much more.

I crash to the ground with a reflexive, “Umph!” sound escaping my lips.

Only then did it occur to me I could have used the blankets on her bed as a kind of rope. I could have secured one end to something heavy in her room, then the other end looped around any of my hooves or bitten by my teeth.

One-hundred and ninety-seven IQ my ass! Way to go, genius!

I hear the weird creature thing shriek in panic when she saw me fall. The sound she made could not possibly be made by a human throat. More like the shriek of a hawk. Four seconds later she flew up to the window and then pushes it open. She gazes down at me from above in concern.

“Miss? Are you alright?!” she asks me in panic and concern.

I turn around. The least I could do is hide my face with the rest of my body. I also wobble my way to a stand. I'm still not used to pony physiology yet. It's hard to rise quickly straight off the ground like this. Standing on these legs is like trying to balance myself on four long stilts, which is still a whole lot easier than balancing myself on two long stilts.

“Miss? Miss? Are you alright?” the weird hawk/pony presses in concern. “Do you need to see a doctor or at least a nurse?”

“Leave me alone!” I cry back at her with more volume than I initially intended. “I'm fine. Just . . . go back to whatever you were doing.”

“Why were you clinging to the outside of my window anyway?” the creature asks in confusion. “And why did you need to cling at all? Are your wings injured? Did you fall from a greater height?”

“I said leave me ALONE!”

I try to run away.

Or gallop, I should say.

And epically fail!

Again, due to not being accustomed to pony physiology, the attempt to race forward while balancing myself on four long stilts is more than I can bear. Not but two steps later I already fall and crash on my face. My face even skids in the dirt a bit. I end up making a horsey snort and spit out dirt from my mouth.

“Oh my Celestia! Um . . . don't panic! Just stay right there! I'm going to go get some help!” the creature cries out behind me in great fear.

But she does not squeeze herself out the window. Apparently she is too big for that. Instead, she races away, presumably to get more help and then leave through the true exit of this crystal dormitory.

Come to think of it, getting out that window was a tight squeeze for me, too. Apparently using the windows as an emergency escape has limited value.

There is a part of me that appreciates her concern, but I cannot let her or whomever she summons find me. I need to press on.

As I struggle to stand again, I think to myself, “Did she just say, 'Oh my Celestia?'” Celestia . . . as in the former Principal of Canterlot before my mother?

Um, well . . . that could be just a coincidence. I heard there are many unusual parallels between our two worlds, however. It really made me wonder.

I'll file that thought away for later. Right now I need to book it!
> Chapter Eleven: Cozy's Fate
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

As I expect from what I gathered on the inside of the dormitory, the outside seems to be made of purple crystal seemingly grown straight off the ground.

I bank around the curved building just to get away from the window I climbed out of. I don't want to be caught when that student and her concerned entourage try to catch up and try to assist me. I appreciate their concern, but I don't want to be caught right now, especially while I am this exposed.

But then I encounter something else I don’t expect. I spot a purple and yellow wagon with giant blue stars painted at the top. From the back end I am looking at, I see a small door which is elevated about two feet off the ground.

Despite its small size, it looks like somebody could live in there. Perhaps that person is there right now. 

For a moment I am tempted to avoid it for that very reason, but then I spot something that grabs my attention. The yellow-rim wheels of this wagon has an overgrowth of vegetation at the bottom of it. Whoever owns this wagon, it has been parked here for a very long time, which might indicate that perhaps it's vacant after all. If that's true, then the stuff in there is unguarded as well. Perhaps I'll finally get lucky and find a decent disguise?

Before I even approach close to the thing, I circle around it to gather as much information as I can. 

The wagon is about eight feet long, five foot high, and four feet wide. Visible at the center of it is a single-window facing to the left. To the sides of that window are a pair of purple window shutters with wavy yellow rim. In the center of those shutters are a bunch of yellow stars painted on it as well as a single crescent moon which has another star within that crest.

Something about that design pattern seems familiar to me.

At the front of the wagon is a long hitch and harness. That hitch droops down so that the harness is in direct contact with the ground. Vegetation, specifically grass, has greedily started to claim the harness as well, indicating at least a few months of neglect.

Facing the wagon from the front, I had to lean to the left in order to see the right side of the wagon since it hugs too close to the purple crystal wall for me to squeeze in. All I saw there that is noteworthy is another window, and it seemed to match the one on the other side.

Before checking if there is indeed an occupant in there, I silently just listen to it for about four minutes. Within that time, I notice total silence from the wagon. Not a soul seems to dwell within for the moment.

I approach closer and make my way to the back of the wagon. There I use my left hoof to gently rap on the door. I wait for a response, but none comes.

I smile deviously.

Oh, this is perfect! An unguarded wagon full of stuff. Whether or not it is useful stuff remains to be seen.

I check around me to see if the coast is clear. Largely it seems the answer is yes. In fact, not many buildings are visible at all in this direction. The vast majority of the buildings to this town seem to be on the other side of the dormitory from where I am standing.

The only building I can kind of see seems to be the school this dormitory is for.

Actually, it looks pretty impressive. It's more like a miniature castle built on the side of a mountain and on top of a green hill. The front door seems to even lead within the green hill. Those doors are flanked by two artificial waterfalls, and two more further to the left and right of the entrance. Most of the structure appears to be lilac in color. It has a pretty feminine design over all.

I like it! It has a medieval fairy-tale aesthetic to it which reminds me of something I've seen in world famous theme parks back in my world. I'd probably feel like a storybook princess every time I entered its threshold.

I wish Canterlot High looked that exciting.

Oh well. Back to the wagon.

Having learned my lesson when it comes to doorknobs, I reach for it with my left wing. While I do so, I contemplate a puzzle. I can open the doorknob with my wings and a unicorn can open it with their horn. How the hell is an earth pony supposed to do this?

I get a good grip on the doorknob and I turn it just fine, but I have trouble pulling it open. From the feel of it, it seems jammed by something. I try tugging at it harder and harder, and eventually I succeed. I manage to pull the door open. Upon success, I immediately regret my decision as an avalanche of stuff falls on top of me. At least now I know why the door was jammed a moment ago.

Ouch!

I shake my body to get the stuff off of me then crawl to safer ground. Once there, I look back at the mess here. My eyes widen at the large pile of mishmash knick knacks I see. That trail continues up into the wagon.

What a fricken slob! Whomever once lived in this wagon, would that person not feel more comfortable in a pigsty? I'm sure this person could use the upgrade!

Whatever! I'm not here to judge this person's standard of living. I'm here to solve one of my problems, which now includes the mess that I just inadvertently made.

For a brief moment I sift through the pile of junk while contemplating how I can possibly put all this stuff back in order to clean up the evidence of my tampering, but then something else occurs to me.

Wait a second. What the hell am I doing? I'm not this person's maid so I'm not going to clean up this stuff. It might be neglected anyway.

What I am going to do, however, is potentially rob from this person. I'll consider it tax for subjecting me to this unsightly filth.

The stuff that spilled out of the wagon looks relatively spread out already. I could tell from a glance that I would not find what I am seeking here. Instead, all I can see appear to be stage props for a performance of some kind.

I look at the entrance of the wagon with a wince of disgust. I really don't want to do this, but I'm forced to adapt to this alien world. I'll do as I must, no matter how much this repulses me.

Reluctantly, I climb my way into the wagon. I have a difficult time finding a safe perch for each of my hooves. My balance is tricky enough as it is, but to be subjected to this . . . what have I done to deserve this?

Hmm. On second thought, I should probably end that train of thought right there. There is no need to go too deep into the rabbit hole of my karma just yet. I got enough to deal with on my “hooves” as it is.

Speaking of hooves, ew! Gross! I think I stepped in something squishy, unidentified, and I probably want to leave it unidentified.

And god, the smell of this place! It smells like horse piss in here. It probably is.

Then my eye caught sight of something interesting. On the wall of the inside of the wagon, I notice a poster. On it, is the image of a blue mare with a mystic look on her face. She's wearing a purple hat with lots of stars on it, and she is hovering between her hooves something which I can only describe as a dragonball.

Wait a second! Is that . . . Trixie?

I lean closer to the poster to examine it better. It was the horse face that initially threw me off, but the more I study her face, her expression and her sense of style, the more I can't deny it. That has got to be the ponified version of the Great and Powerful Trixie Lulamoon.

Oh wow!

I close my eyelids halfway while passing a sly smile at the poster.

I wonder if this version of Trixie is also a talentless hack who's nevertheless so full of herself that she thinks she's giving the best performance in the world.

As far as idiots are concerned, however, I kind of like Trixie. I find her adorable even as a human. I'd probably like the horse version of her ten times more.

It's mostly her ego that sells her to me. I like how she is so obliviously dumb by not even realizing how worthless and pathetic she is. For that reason alone, I actually do find her entertaining. Just not in the way she thinks.

Moving on, I continue to explore the tiny wagon which is crowded with stuff until I eventually come across something that might serve my purpose. In fact, I found three things.

One was a purple cape with lots of blue stars on the back.

Another is a hat that has a wide brim so it could serve to shield my face if I merely tilt it down. 

The last item I find is large glasses with a human-looking nose on it and a mustache along with it. It looks positively goofy, but it would serve to hide my face. If it can work for Clark Kent, then the nose and mustache could serve as overkill.

Swiping the cloak off a hook on the wall with a wing, I pull it close to my face and sniff it, then recoil my face from the cloak.

Okay, Trixie, we need to have a serious discussion. Moreover, I need to introduce you to someone who has been a good and dear friend of mine pretty much all of my life.

Trixie Lulamoon, meet Shower! You two desperately need to get acquainted.

Oh god, I wish beggars could be choosers at this moment! Not only do these things smell bad, but they look gaudy and downright ridiculous.

Oh, how the mighty hath fallen. I guess that's what I get for stepping into an alien world so unprepared, but Princess Twilight forced my hand.

However, these things are also the first I've ever encountered in Horse-Land that came close to adequate purpose for me, and they are unguarded to boot. I hate to admit it, but this may be as close to a lucky find as I'm going to get today. I guess I should count my blessings because I may get less of them here than I'm otherwise accustomed to.

But still . . .

Damn it, Trixie, I'll get you for this! Mark my words! I won't go too hard on you because you've also kind of saved my cutie marked butt most likely, but someday . . . cruel irony is coming your way when you least suspect it.

I never forget who owes me a debt.

Never forget, and never forgive!





* * *





Oh . . . my . . . GOD! These ponies are so ADORABLE!

I really have to fight hard to restrain myself, or there would be a large serial assault of non-consensual hugging today. The main problem with that strategy is it conflicts with my “keep a low profile” and “try to look sane” agendas. There is a chance that some of them might actually appreciate and gladly return the gesture, but the odds are too strong that most of these ponies would feel uncomfortable at best.

After all, they don't know how adorable they are because they were born and raised this way all of their lives. To them, this is just downright normal, which somehow makes them look even more adorable to me! I watch them trot around me and just go about their daily business like nothing special is going on, but the looks on their faces are just . . . so . . . MMM!

Urge to squeeze them . . . rising!

I also just can’t shake the feeling they’d inadvertently make a squeaking sound if I did that, just like squeezing a rubber ducky.

The thing I find really fascinating about them is their faces because it's not quite like a horse. It's too human for that, but not in a creepy way. More like the cute and cuddly way. I think it's the much shorter muzzle, compared to normal horses, that is the biggest difference. That and their big . . . anime . . . eyes! Those eyes are so full of life and expressive. That's also why I can tell that, for the most part, the average citizens in this town seem happy and content.

For a moment, while trotting in their quaint little town, I contemplate how they would look like if they were drawn as cartoon characters. If I imagine that someone else had already done that, then take my big, purple, stupid hat off to that person. Whoever designed these ponies, if anyone, is a freaking genius! I'd love to shake his or her theoretical hand if that person existed.

The reason I say that is because I think these ponies’ designs are extremely marketable in my world. If I were to copy their design in my world and make a toy or comic book based on them, I'd buy it! I wish it was already for sale.

Wait a second!

I stop in place.

This gives me a brilliant idea!

A devious expression sinks deep into my adorable pony face.

YES! Cozy, you've done it again, you evil genius! These ponies most likely are marketable in my world, but that's the thing . . . nobody has done it yet!

At least, not to my knowledge.

These ponies designs are known to a few in my world. Some of them might have even visited this world personally on rare occasions, especially Sunset Shimmer from what I can tell, but none of them paused to think about how profitable banking on these ponies designs could be in my world! If I'm the first, I could end up starting an entire successful franchise! I'll be rich in no time!

I can see the headlines now!

“Cozy Glow . . . the first female president in the country . . . who also designed one of the most successful comic books, cartoon series, and toys of pastel, marshmallow ponies on the market today! Her brilliant genius has no end in sight!”

I feel like laughing maniacally right now and twisting my fake mustache into a curl, much like my curly teal “mane” that I carefully tucked under this gaudy purple hat. Cue the dark flash of lightning and thunderstorm in the background behind me.

“Is that you, Trixie?” somebody asks me. “What are you doing out here? I thought you'd be at your office by now.”

My right eye twitches in irritation for being mistaken for Trixie.

I turn to the speaker but tilt my hat down to avoid direct eye contact with the speaker, but that also means I can't see who he is. From what I can tell from his blue hooves and hear from his voice, I can at least assume I'm addressing a stallion.

“Gee-willikers, Mister. Ah . . . no. I'm not Trixie. Instead I'm . . . just a fan of hers who-” eye twitches again “-really . . . really enjoys her sense of style, so I thought to myself . . . I got to get an outfit to match hers. Pick what you like then wear it loud and proud, I always say!”

Oh god! My poor brain! I think I can hear my brain cells just popping because of this! Ouch! This hurts!

“Oh. Well that's cool, I guess. Trixie always did have her own sense of style.”

I calm down a bit as I say honestly, “I agree.”

What's wrong with his voice? He sounds a little scratchy, as if he recently recovered from having a cold or something.

We stand in awkward silence for four seconds. I see him nervously swing his right forward leg back and forth for a moment, then he declares, “Well, sorry for bothering you. I was just curious, is all, since your outfit looks like hers. Glad to see she has some fans! It seems like she can really use some.”

I sense him about to leave, but I speak out to stop him because I preceive a valuable opportunity here to gather some intel. After all, that is why I came to Horse-Land in the first place.

“Wait! Hold on a second. I wonder if you can help me.”

“With what?” he asks as he turns to presumably look at me again. I'm not sure because I can't see his face, nor can he see mine, which is the point.

In fact, I should probably explain that to alleviate suspicion on that front.

“Another thing I like about Trixie's style is her wide brim hat. It helps me to shield my eyes from the sun, because my eyes are quite sensitive.”

“Oh! Well, I guess it's a good thing you have that, then,” the stallion agrees.

“Also, I'm ah . . . kind of shy.” I shuffle my hooves nervously. “I always have been,” I lie. Almost a complete lie. “That's why I admire Trixie so much! She’s so bold and brave for what she does, performing on stage like that! That’s also why my mother sent me here to the local school, to learn about friendship and stuff. Her hope was that, by attending this school, it would help me build up my confidence and help me make some friends.”

“Good for you!” he cheers. “That is very brave of you to step outside your comfort zone like this.”

Yeah! No kidding!

“Anyway, I was, ah . . . hoping you can help me with a homework assignment I've been given,” I say to him shyly and meekly. “Do . . . do you attend this school?”

“No, I don't,” the stallion answers. “But I know plenty who do.”

Good. This means he won't be too familiar with those in the school. As such, he won't realize that I'm not actually a student of that school. Since that is the case, he is therefore safer to continue to communicate with him on that front.

“Speaking for myself, I can well sympathize with you feeling shy around strangers,” the stallion went on. “I've been blessed with some good friends in my life. Some really good friends. Kettle Corn especially comes to my mind, but mostly I just stick to myself and write haikus. That's my preferred way to socialize with other ponies. To write and share my art in that. Despite my interest in the matter, Kettle was the one who got her cutie mark in it. Go figure.

“Anyway, what's your assignment and how can I help you with it?”

I secretly thin my lips. I realize that I am taking a bit of a gamble here, but I need information.

“I've been told to do a case study on a certain pony. I . . . I know it's a long shot, but have you ever heard of a pony named Cozy Glow?”

Even by just staring at his legs, I see him stiffen with fright.

Really? He actually recognizes me? Oh, I mean . . . her? Also he's afraid. That's interesting, and mildly disturbing.

“Oh. I see,” the stallion says in a small voice. “Well, I suppose Cozy would make an interesting case study. There has never been a more misguided filly than her when it comes to friendship.”

“What? Filly?” I almost look up at him but force my gaze back down. Since I am supposed to be “shy”, that is still in character. “Don't you mean 'mare'? Surely she's all grown up by now, or at least a young teenager.”

“Nope.” I could almost hear him shake his head. “I mean filly.”

“She died?” I ask a bit fearfully which could easily be mistaken for nervously shy.

“Not exactly,” he answers. “Her statue is still in the Canterlot Gardens.”

“And where is that, exactly?” I press him, hoping I didn't sound to stupid with that question.

“Uh . . . in Canterlot,” he answers as if that should have been obvious. In fact, his confusion provokes him to ask, “Where are you from?”

“Very far away,” I answer honestly. “I just came here recently to attend classes at school.

“So,” I wipe a hoof in front of me, “let me get this straight. You actually know Cozy Glow, or rather you know about her because of some statue of her in Canterlot? Why? What's so special about that statue? What did she do to deserve being commemorated with it?”

“Commemorated?” He sounds taken aback. “No, no! Cozy Glow is the statue! She's been turned to stone along with Queen Chrysalis and Lord Tirek.”

I freeze. My blood chills. My heart stops. All of my surroundings slowly fade away in the background.

“Wow! If you didn't know that, you have a long way to go in your assignment,” the stallion remarks.

I say nothing. I barely even hear him.

“Uh . . . you okay, Miss?”

No, I'm not. Thanks for asking! How is your day?

“I . . . I'm sorry. I think I misheard you. I thought you said that a little filly got turned to stone.”

“She did!” the stallion confirms insistently. “She's right on up there in Canterlot Garden if you want to go see her. I did, once, during a school field trip. Bad idea! That statue gave me nightmares for weeks! Princess Luna had to console me practically every night despite her retirement. I was that much of an emotional wreck.”

I can no longer help it. I finally look up at his face, which also means he can see mine and my goofy glasses. Hopefully that's enough to disguise me.

This stallion had deeper blue eyes compared to the color of his hide, and very light blue in his mane with a small mix of yellow. His mane has a retro spikiness to it which I kind of like.

“Cozy Glow was turned to stone?! Are you sure? You're not just pulling my leg?” I double check because this information is crucial.

“Well, she did try to ruin the world . . . twice even,” he informs me.

I wipe a hoof back and forth between us. “Wait, wait. Back up a second. What do you mean by, ‘Almost ruining the world?’ Maybe you should start from the beginning.”

He looks down sadly as he says, “Cozy Glow used to attend the School of Friendship herself,” he announces.

I narrow my eyes at him a bit. School of Friendship? Really? That's it's name? Lame!

“In fact, she was there for the very first year,” he went on as he looked back into my eyes. “For a while there she seemed like a star pupil. She even served as the then Headmare Twilight's right hoof filly but, from what I hear, she only did it to get into a position of power.” He shook his head. “I don't know the details, but somehow she did something that almost destroyed all magic on Equestria! For that, Princess Celestia banished her to Tartarus.”

I widened my eyes in shock. “Excuse me? The Princess of Equestria banished a little filly to hell?”

“Hell?” He cocks his head. “No. I said, 'Tartarus'.”

“Is there a difference?”

In response, he just shrugs. If he did not know what “hell’ is, he had no basis of comparison.

Fair enough.

“Besides, I thought you told me she was turned to stone. So she was turned to stone and banished to Tartarus? Then why is she in the Canterlot Gardens now? What changed everyone's mind?”

“No!” He shook his head. “You've got it all wrong. Cozy was banished to Tartarus first. That's all.”

“That's all?!” I press him hard, which made him look very uncomfortable. Right now I don't care. “This doesn't exactly sound like a casual punishment to me, or is it?”

“No. I assure you, Tartarus is used only for Equestria's most dangerous offenders.”

I sigh, then say, “I guess attempting to destroy all of our lands magic is pretty serious, but let me ask you this; where were her parents in all of this? This is just a filly, right? Did they object to the Princesses decision to send their daughter to Tartarus?”

Also, note to self, he said Princess Celestia! That might explain why some creatures use her as an exclamation of astonishment. I guess she was the primary ruler of this land before Twilight took over.

Huh. And her human counterpart merely got leadership of a single school. I guess I know which one of these two drew the shorter straw. The longer straw Princess Celestia probably ate afterwards.

The stallion shrugs in response to my question, then said, “I have no idea what happened to Cozy's parents. I never heard of them.” He drops his gaze. “Maybe she cooked them up and ate them, or something.”

“What about a trial? Did that take place before banishing Cozy to Tartarus?”

“A what?” he asks with a confused wince.

My eyelids droop. “Um, never mind. Forget I asked that. Besides, we're dealing with a monarchy system here. I guess that was a stupid question.”

He tilts his head to his right side. “Are you okay, Miss?”

“No I'm not! I'm deeply troubled by what I'm hearing today!” I rant.

He seems to realize something, which causes him to ask, “Cozy Glow isn't really an assignment of yours, is she? She's your sister or something.”

“Yeah.” I lower my head. “I guess you can say that.”

“I'm sorry. I didn't know.”

He sounds sincere, so I said to him, “Thanks . . . for being honest.”

“Hey! That is an element of friendship! But you should know that, attending the school like you do . . . or is that a lie too?”

I say nothing. I feel too cold and drained to speak. It feels like somebody is rolling over in my grave.

He shuffles his hooves again, then said, “Look, I'm really sorry about your loss, Miss. You might know Cozy Glow better than any of the rest of us, if you're really her sister.”

I continue to remain in silence. My mind grows numb.

“Um . . . here. I want you to have something.”

I look up at what he offers. It's apparently a bag of some sort.

“What's this?” I ask him.

“Bits,” he answers.

Huh. I guess they use those too in Horse-Land, but the bag in question appears to be filled with some kind of coins, not paper bills.

“What's it for?”

“Take it, and use it to purchase a passage to Canterlot. Once there, you can see the statue of your sister in person.”

“Wow!” I lift my head up a bit further and widen my eyes at him. “That's really kind and generous of you.”

He smiles a bit. “Which is-”

I lift my hoof to interrupt him, then say, “-yet more elements of harmony, correct?”

He smiles brighter as he says, “Correct!” The smile fades from his face as he goes on to say, “I think you need this to find closure. Take it, and go see your sister. I even have enough bits in there for you to make a return trip here to Ponyville, if that's what you want.”

Ponyville? Really? Meaning Pony village?

Okay, note to self; check Google Maps for “Humanville” when I get back.

“Um . . . thank you. That's very nice of you,” I say to him then reach for the pouch with my right wing. I did get a grip on it but the bag still tips over a bit and spills a single coin on the ground. The sight of it also confirms to me that “bits” is indeed “coins” in Horse-Land.

“Urp! Let me get that for you.” This stallion somehow reaches down and picks up the coin with his hoof. I am stunned! Especially considering he also could have picked it up using the magic of his horn.

“Ah . . . just put it in here,” I request him numbly as I offer the bag back. He reaches forward, corrects its position, then dumps the coin into the bag.

“I, ah . . . want to ask you another question, and this might sound a little weird,” I warn him. “If you couldn't use your horn . . . how do you turn and open a doorknob?”

He gave me a very strange look as he said, “Ah . . . I turn and open the doorknob.”

“But how exactly do you turn it with these hooves of ours?”

“It's simple,” he says with a casual shrug. “I just touch it and it turns.”

“You touch it . . . and it just turns?” I double check.

“Yep!” he confirms as if that totally made sense.

I sigh and close my eyes halfway.

Okay, Cozy, we need to talk. I think it's pretty darn clear by now that Logic and this World have parted ways a long time ago. Maybe they never shared each other's company in the first place, so stop trying to compare the two. You're only going to give yourself a headache.

I tuck the coin pouch to my side using the same wing that held it.

“Thank you for everything, Mister . . .” I trail off.

“Skeedaddle,” he answers as he offered a hoof in front of him. For what, I'm not sure.

“Skeedaddle,” I repeat. “My name is Shimmering Spectacles,” I say without hesitation despite the fact I made it up on the spot. I also internally wince at it afterwards because it sounds so made up, but the stupid pony actually bought it.

“Pleasure to meet you, Shimmering.” He still holds up his hoof in front of him. Not knowing what else to do, I give him a hoof bump. Because I’m carefully examining his face, I can tell that is not the response he expected, but he still accepts it by lowering his hoof. “I really hope you find what you are looking for. I know how important family is.”

“Yeah.” I say with an empty voice and expression on my face as I look down a bit. “Thanks.”

He opens his mouth to speak, but looks like he either forgot what to say or did not know if it is appropriate. So instead he backs off and starts to walk away. A short distance away he slows his trot to an eventual stop, then looks back at me over his left shoulder.

“What happened to her?” he asks me curiously. “As her sister, you may know her better than anypony.”

Anypony? That's another note to self. I'll file that phrase under, “Pony idioms.”

“I wish I knew,” I answer him honestly. “I really do.”

I take a deep breath, then let it out.

“How exactly do I get to Canterlot?”

“You could just fly. It's right over there.” That sounds like it just occurred to him but, then again, he did not see my wings under Trixie's cloak until I reached for his sack with it.

I look where he indicates then widen my eyes a bit. There I behold an entire city that seems to be parked in the middle of a cliff. Even from a distance, I could see several waterfalls cascading down from there. It's so beautiful to behold.

“Other than that, I'd take the train at the station,” he went on. “It's just down the street that way.” He points the way. “Ask the ticket sellspony for a ticket to Canterlot, then board the next train there. It should take you a third of a day to get there.”

“Ah . . . thanks. I'll do that. My wings are a bit injured so I should stay off of them,” I explain to him. “I can use them to grasp things, but flying is too much for me right now.”

“I see,” he accepts with a sad look in his eyes. “Well, um . . . take care.”

He takes off. In a bit of a hurry, in fact.

I look back at Canterlot.

A strong part of me does not want to buy his story, but I have to know for sure. I have to see her with my own eyes . . . my other self.
> Chapter Twelve: Heart of Stone
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

This is it . . . the Canterlot Gardens. I finally made it. It's right in front of me.

But I hesitate to enter, for I am very afraid.

It feels apropos that, while I stand in front of the entrance to the garden, a storm is gathering above me. All along, while I made my way to this destination, I actually saw a bunch of pegasi, my species, pushing dark clouds to this area. Apparently they intend to create a storm here on purpose, most likely to water the gardens.

Well, I suppose that is one way to solve this problem. It must be nice to live in a world that can control the weather like that, but their methods seem on the tedious side. Pushing each cloud one by one is necessary? What would happen if ponies no longer did it? Would this world cease to function?

I close my eyes slowly as I recall the journey it took to get me up here, perhaps as a way to delay the inevitable just a little longer.

The train ride up here was interesting. I sat alone on my bench but there were plenty of other ponies, and a few other types of creatures, sitting on other benches. I found the way they sat on them made them look oddly human. Back then I could not help but wonder if it was a sign that, deep down, they all actually had human souls. There is just too much expression on their faces and human-like quality to their movements to reject that possibility. They are alien but a touch too relatable. It is fascinating and disturbing at the same time.

Then I looked out the window as I contemplated how there was literally a whole new world out there. At that moment there was a part of me that felt tempted to explore this new world as a permanent resident. My mind spun with possibilities how I could weave a believable story and fit right in as if I had always been there. Exploring a magical world with this much high fantasy and fairy-tale like quality to it has more than a little appeal.

But no . . . I could never abandon my mother like that, nor shall I forget or forgive Little Miss Prissy! She must pay for what she has done to me! It is harder to do that while sitting in another world entirely.

Feeling resolved, I realized that I had to be content with what I had at that moment. Looking out the window that seemed so familiar and yet so different. Wondering how much more there is out there to explore. The answers beacon me. They call to my soul. It's so painful to look upon that and reject it.

Interesting. I guess life can find some small ways to challenge me once in awhile. I've got to admit, I asked for it.

As the train I rode on ascended a mountain, it occasionally passed into several long and dark tunnels. When that happened, the inside of the train suddenly became brighter than the outside. As a result, I couldn't see anything beyond the window other than blackness. Instead, it was my own reflection that drew my attention.

I touched the chill window with a hoof as I softly traced the edges of the reflection of my new, ponyfied face. This is what Cozy Glow of this world would like like at this age, but I heard earlier that she is frozen in time as a stone statue.

A chill sinks deep into my soul at the reminder of that announcement. I am afraid. I am so very afraid. If it's true, if that is what this world has done to my pony self then I . . .

I . . .

I don't know what I'd do, but I do know my feelings about this world would change dramatically. All that joy and sunshine and pretty rainbows and happy faces take on a whole new dark dimension when painted by this horrifying fact.

Fact . . . I'm not ready to give this story that label yet, and the truth is I don't want to. This world has such charm to it. It calls to the innocent child that I still have deeply buried within my soul. That part of me longs to remain in a world like this so badly.

Happy clouds! Shinny rainbows! Adorable ponies!

In short, Heaven.

Please don't be true! Please don't show me that Skeedaddle was right! Show me that he was wrong! Show me that he was a dirty, rotten liar, I beg you! I don't want to hate this world! I really don't.

I'll march towards the truth regardless, but I am so afraid. There is a fragile sense of innocence within me that hangs in the balance, terrified that she will soon shatter.

It wouldn't be the first time my mind has shattered, but doing so before does not make it easier, it makes it harder. It makes me more sensitive to the repeat. It's like intensifying an allergic reaction.

What if I don't survive this? What if I break?

The alternative is to leave this world and always wonder what I would have found if I continued. Wouldn't that have just as much chance of ruining my life?

I open my eyes again, my mind returns to the present.

Here goes nothing.

I break into a canter towards Canterlot Gardens.

“Whoa! Wait, Miss!” an old brown pony with a droopy straw hat says in objection as I pass him. His voice noticeably whistles on occasion due to some missing teeth. “Don't go in there, Miss. A rainstorm is about to hit it. Can't you see the dark clouds above?”

I do. I don't care.

I venture on without a word or look back at him.

“Miss! Wait! Miss! You'll get wet in there! You'll catch a cold! It's dangerous! Miss! Hey, Miss! I'm talking to you! Miss! Miiiiiiiisssssss!”

His voice grows more distance as I canter on. I don't care. I am driven. I have a mission to complete.

The gardens are kind of beautiful, even in the gray shade of the dark clouds above. It is something of a hedge maze. I wish I could fly and scout out this whole area from above. 

That's another thing that's bound to haunt me when I leave this world. Here I am a pegasus. I can fly here. It would be so nice to learn how to do that. That would have been so fun and liberating.

The maze isn't actually too complicated. I get the sense that it could be if I took the branching paths to the sides. If I stick to the widest path, however, I calculate a sixty-five percent chance that it would lead me to my goal. That just seems to fit with a royal, aesthetic design.

My gamble eventually pays off. I arrive into a wide clearing that has a bunch of other white marble statues about. Most of them seem to be fairly positive themes, like this one mare who wove a flag and had a bold pose.

Then I spot it.

My heart freezes.

My blood chills.

My breathing stops.

My soul turns more gray, like a Heart of Stone.

There she is. Cozy Glow, my pony counterpart.

Despite being the smallest of the three combined figures, she is above them, as if she was flying before she got frozen in stone.

Frozen in time, like a picture, except that is her actual body.

Thunder rolls across the sky.

I did not realize for a while that I am absently strolling a bit closer until I a practically in front of the statue.

There are three figures in front of me, but my mind focus on only one.

Pony Cozy Glow . . . she's still just a little filly! Still just a child! How unbelievable cruel!

Her face is frozen in horror on what happened to her.

And I thought I had it bad!

Come to think of it, I wonder if this happened to her when I lost my parents. My birth parents, that is. If true, then I guess we were both born on the wrong side of the crib. Maybe this is meant to happen to us. Maybe this is why we were born. Maybe we are made to suffer more so than most others.

The rains seems to just turn on like turning on a faucet.

I don't care. I continue to stand there, numb to everything.

I do not know how long I stand there like that, frozen like my pony counterpart. In my heart, I feel like her. I feel like my heart is frozen in stone as well.

My mind is numb, but it slowly starts to stir. Loud thunder in the background help to thaw out my mind.

Fifty-fifty. That is the odds that this could have happened to me. Standing there, helpless. Frozen for all time. Frozen and rejected and unloved. If I was born in this world instead of my own, if fate had been just a hair off, then this would have been me instead.

But in a way it did happen to me. She is me, and I am her.

We are both cursed . . . together.

I close my eyes and bow my head.

The memory of Ponyville comes back to my mind with a haunting vengeance. A quiet and quaint little town that seems so full of life and energy. Even for those trotting about to do their daily business, there is a bubbly energy beneath all of it that only someone from another world could see because it's different enough to tell. The way they trotted about in their daily lives, a smile at least dimly on their lips and deep in their wide, adorable eyes . . . it is like they are happy just to be alive. They are happy to be in this world and to be adorable ponies. No routine, no matter how mundane, could diminish that simple joy just to be here on this world.

Sunshine and happy rainbows all the way. They actually look like they are about readdy to break into a spontaneous song and dance at any moment. It really is a child's fantasy, especially that of a little girl, like I was.

But all of that joy and fulfillment hides one very dark truth beneath it; it came at the expense of another, perhaps even because of it. They are happy . . . because Cozy Glow is miserable. The thought of her suffering every day brings peace, joy, and fulfillment every day of their lives.

A song pops into my head.




“Ding-dong, the witch is dead!

	Which old witch?

	The wicked witch (of course. Duh!)




	“Ding-dong, the wicked witch is deeeeeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaad!”




Frozen in time, just a statue. Nobody cares about it except to point at it, laugh at it, and taunt it. Everyday that she is here reminds them that they are safe from her. The monster, Cozy Glow, on display for the entertainment of the masses for all eternity, like a mummified corpse on public display.

My eyes pop open and my pupil shrinks to the size of a pin when another horrifying thought occurs to me.

What if she's not dead? What if she's very much aware of her trapped state? What if she wants to move and speak, but simply can't? Unable to do anything but think and observe her surroundings?

I look back up at her face, and I see something that nearly shatters me.

My counterpart, pony Cozy Glow, looks like she's bawling in the rainstorm. Streams of water cascade from her stone eyes.

“Help me!” I hear a desperate wail of agony in my mind. “Somebody . . . ANYBODY . . .help me! Pleeeeeeeasse.”

Water rises to my own eyes, obstructing my vision. My throat starts to close up. My chest collapses. I heave in strained effort just to breathe.

“I'll be a good girl from now on! I promise! Just get me down. I won't do it again. I'll never do it again! I swear! Just get me down from here!”

I shut my eyes tight and wince in excruciating pain.

“Let me down! Let me down! Let me down! Let me down! Let me down! Let me down!”

My heart sinks in sorrow. In my head, my mind spins ahead in time to how this event will likely unfold.

For years the stoned filly cries out desperately to anyone that wonders by, but they either don't care or are downright pleased to see her fate.

It does not matter to her how low the odds of success are. It could be zero percent chance of success for all she cares. Her fate is too horrible not to feel overwhelmed by her emotions. She cries out to anyone and everyone desperately, hoping against hope that if she cries out loudly enough in her mind, somehow someone will hear her and take pity upon her.

But decades roll by and she sees the same answer over and over again. The horror deepens in her heart as she faces the serious possibility that she really might be trapped like this for all eternity. Unable to move, unable to speak, unable to blink, unable to breathe. It is like being trapped in cement, except she just won't die!

Over the years, fewer and fewer care for her fate. New foals are born that have never seen her before, so she's just an anomaly to them. They think she's just a normal statue and always was.

Other than that, totally ignored. Just a perch for the birds.

Day and night cycles. Here eyes scans everything in her field of vision, desperate for her hyper developed mind for simulation.

Another pony crosses her path, but she's long past hoping for pity or salvation. She just looks at him or her, thinking, “You're not going to free me either, are you? I bet you don't even realize I'm more than just a statue.”

But that is all she is . . . to everyone.

Centuries roll by, and her thoughts decay. After so long without simulation, she slowly forgets how to think in words. She slowly forgets how to think or feel at all. She abandoned hope of ever being free a long time ago. A statue is all she really is anymore. She accepts it bitterly, but it gets easier as her  thoughts leave her and her soul continues to decay.

Until, one day, she really is just a statue. No thoughts anymore. No feelings anymore. Not even the slightest bit of ego.

At that point it really is too late to save her. If any pony does turn her back to flesh, it does not matter. She'd just fall to the ground, totally catatonic. She can't move, think, feel, breath, eat. All of that would have to be done for her. She's just a soulless, empty doll made of flesh.

She'll be put on strings and danced like a marionette for the amusement of the masses, the last remnant of entertainment they can draw from the thing that was once a girl named Cozy Glow. All the while, her eyes pupils ever remain tiny and lifeless, unless she . . .or rather it since she's not really a girl anymore . . . is covered up by makeup or a mask.

Eventually even that withers and decays.

Everything decays, withering into the blackness of infinite emptiness and sorrow.

Panic and agonizing horror well up from within me. I open my mouth just to scream!

“Shimmering Spectacles? Is that you?” someone asks from behind me.

I am really caught off guard by those questions. I had no idea anyone approached nearby me. I look behind me to see who it is, then widen my eyes in shock.

I have never beheld her like this before, but there is no mistaking who this is. Her voice alone should have been a big enough clue for me if I was thinking more straight. That is Princess Twilight Sparkle, the face of my mother in pony form.

I quickly look away to hide my face.

“Uh . . . good evening, Your Majesty,” I say while fighting really damn hard to steady my nerves and voice. “Indeed, my name is Shimmering Spectacles. I guess it's a small world after all. Word gets around here fast in Horse . . . um . . . Equestria.”

“Good evening?” Twilight reflects questioningly. “Well, I suppose that's one way of looking at it if you don't mind standing in the rain.”

“I suppose I don't,” I say with a bit of an empty voice. “It helps me cool off.”

“Yeah.” I hear Twilight approach closer behind me. “I heard from reliable sources that Cozy Glow was your sister? Is that true?”

I nod slightly. “We are . . . in a sense. She's my sister born from another mother.”

“Oh.” Twilight honestly did not sound like she knew what to make of that information.

“I didn't know her,” I go on. “We weren't raised together, and yet I feel like I've known her all of my life. We are . . . bonded . . . on levels I doubt you can imagine.”

“I do share a very close connection with my friends,” she pointed out. “Friendship as tight, if not tighter, than family.”

I hear Twilight closing in very close behind me. Her hoof clomps splash in the muddy puddles on the ground.

I can't let her see my face! This pony knows me too well. There is a ninety-percent chance that these stupid glasses won't deceive her.

“It's not the same thing, Your Majesty. Cozy and I . . . we share a bond much deeper than that. I feel like she is me.”

“I'm . . . so sorry. I don't know what to say.”

I let out a breath slowly, then request, “Just . . . tell me how this happened. I want to know why she deserves this fate.”

“It's my fault,” Twilight said sadly.

I almost whip my head back at her in shock but restrain myself. Instead, I ask, “You did this to her?”

“Not personally, no, but in a way we all did this to her,” Twilight says. “The reason I say it's my fault is because she used to work right under me. She worked under my wings, and I didn't see this coming! She is smart and talented. I didn't see the poison that dwelt within her. Not until it was too late.”

“So she got banished to Tartarus,” I finish.

“At first,” Twilight agrees. “After she tried to destroy all magic on this world, and nearly succeed, Princess Celestia banished her to Tartarus.

“Don't you remember that? Wherever you were, didn't you notice the decline of magic? It happened all over the world.”

“I guess I must have missed it,” I say with a shrug. “Go on.”

She sighs sadly, then says, “Most of us thought that was the end of it. Those who are banished to Tartarus are usually taken care of for all eternity . . . but . . . another 'good' friend of mine by the name of Discord gathered them all up while disguised as the treacherous Grogar. By gather, I mean her, Queen Chrysalis, Lord Tirek, and one other who is not here, an evil unicorn by the name of King Sombra.

“Unlike the others, Sombra struck it out on his own to conquer Equestria, and he quickly nearly won. He also destroyed . . . something very precious to this world.

“Several moons later, Cozy Glow, Queen Chrysalis and Lord Tirek drained Discord's powers while they thought he was Grogar. They did this using Grogar's bell. It doesn't just drain magical powers, it can grant powers it drained. Grogar's magic was in there before they started using it, at least according to Discord's testimony. With it, they had nearly enough power to conquer all of Equestria. That was the second time your sister brought this land to it's knees.

“Worse, she and her companions sowed distrust among all the pony races. At first I thought it was just nervousness due to my coronation coming soon, but no . . . these three worked in the shadows to undermine the greatest source of our strength.

“But, thanks to all my friends and those I taught, we all came together in the end and defeated these three. After that, Discord, Celestia and Luna turned all three of them into stone together, just like the fate Discord had suffered for a thousand years.”

“And you all lived happily ever after. The end,” I say bitterly.

“Not exactly,” Twilight disagreed. “In fact, this is one of the issues that bothers me the most.”

I partially look back at her under the edge of Trixie's stupid hat.

“How so?” I ask her.

First Twilight sighed, then says, “This . . . this just bothers me. I can't help but think there could have been a better way to handle this. Cozy especially bothers me. She was under my care. My responsibility. My fault! I should have seen this coming. I should have prevented it!”

“Then . . . what are you going to do about it?” I ask her with trace amounts of hope in my voice.

She signs sadly and shakes her head. “Nothing I can do. If I free Cozy, I'll end up freeing all three of them. I can't risk the security and safety of Equestria again. I just . . . wish there was a better way.”

“So . . . you are sorry,” I say bitterly. “That's all she gets? That's all a little filly on this world gets?”

I turn to her more fully but keep the edge of my hat down in order to continue to hide my face. “She was your responsibility, Twilight! You just said so yourself. She was your student. You were her mentor. You didn't banish her to Tartarus, but did you try to stop Celestia when she did?”

There is a five second pause of silence before Twilight finally admitted, “No.”

“NO! YOU DIDN'T!” I cry out at her angrily. “You abandoned her, Twilight! You abandoned a hurt and lost little filly, just like her parents probably abandoned her!”

I see her legs stiffen. I drive on with my point, determined to hurt her!

“Speaking of which, where the hell were her parents in all of this?” I ask sharply. “Did they raise a hoof in objection? Did anyone even ask them? Do they even know what happened to their daughter at all, or did nobody ever bother to check?”

I am met with silence other then the heaves of my own, nearly hyperventilating breath.

“Didn't ANYBODY TELL YOU THAT THIS IS WRONG?!” I scream at her.

For another five seconds I am met with silence, then she asks me something that deeply startles me.

“Cozy? Is that you?”

I back off a few steps from her, breathing very sharply now. My breath proceeds in dry heaves. I am about to turn away from her when I notice my hat glow with a purple aura. A moment later my hat and glasses are pulled off my head and face. As a last ditch effort to defend myself, I shield my face with my right wing defensively for a moment, but then I realize how futile it is.

She knows. The jig is up.

Well, since we crossed that line, I might as well fully reveal to her how upset I am with her.

I slowly lower my wing from in front of my face. It reveals the cold glare of hatred I have burning towards her. A face that also quickly soaks with rainwater.

“Oh Cozy . . . no!” Twilight says in horror. “No, Cozy! Not this! Anything but this! This is the only place in all of Equestria I didn't want you to see, and you went straight for it, my worst fear for you.”

“Because you did not want me to learn the truth,” I growl at her. “You didn't want me to know what a horrible monster you are! You . . . the face of my own beloved mother . . . who condemned my pony self to this fate!

“Was this your plan for me too, Twilight? Did you want to lock me in stone as well?

“I suppose I would in your place. Why not get rid of your enemies completely? Why not make sure she can't be avenged by anyone? Get rid of your threats! It's what you're best at.”

“That's not true, Cozy! I never wanted this fate for you. I didn't even want it for her.”

“Where is the proof of your claims?” I immediately challenge her. “Where is your evidence? Is it right here?!” I gesture to the frozen statue behind me with my right wing. “Because that is the only evidence I see before me, Twilight. That is the only proof of your character that matters to me right now.”

“You don't understand what she did to us! What she tried to do to this world!”

“No. I DON'T understand, Twilight! All I see her betrayer in front of me.”

Twilight winces and shuts her eyes tight. She reacts like I stabbed her in the heart, but I don't buy it! I she really regretted her actions, she would have fixed this a long time ago. She is the Princess of all of Equestria, and probably has more than a little magic too boot all by herself. She could have changed this fate, but she didn't because she does not want to!

“So . . . here we are. This is where we stand,” I say a little accusingly but mostly I speak in a tone of acceptance. “You won. Congratulations, Twilight. All of your enemies are vanquished, at least the ones that matter the most. Cozy Glow won't bother you anymore, nor these other two.

“Moreover, you have them here in public display as a show of force to anyone. You can always point at her with a hoof and say, 'Look, kids. Look what happened to her. Look at this example I have displayed for all of Equestria to see! Look how powerful I am! Don't you dare try to cross me, or you'll end up like her too. Remember, kids, don't be like Cozy Glow or you'll be doomed to share her fate for all of eternity.”

Every single word seems to make her wince. I see her cry. I wish it is real! I wish I am causing her this much apparent pain, but I know I'm not.

“But why stop here?” I go on. “Why not humiliate her even further? Just take a bunch of crayons . . . you do have crayons, don't you?” I move on without waiting for an answer.  “Take a bunch of crayons and encourage other foals to draw silly little doodles all over her face. Then, after that, take this stupid lookingglasses,” I nudge the one I used to wear, “and stick it on her face. Or, ooo! Better yet, stick it on her fail and pretend it's a silly little face! I'm sure your public would love you for this much creative freedom.

“You have her down, Twilight! She's on her knees and begging you for mercy. Begging you for release from her suffering. This is the perfect time to keep kicking her while she's down!”

To demonstrate, I kick a bit of mud at her which end up splashing on her legs and a bit on her chest.

I hyperventilate even further.

“'Look at Cozy Glow,'” I struggle to say through the burden of my breath. I grow dizzy and wobble in place. “'Look at the little monster that no one loves and . . .'”

I collapse to my knees before I fall over completely.

I start a hacking fit. Twilight pretends to grow concern for me.

“Do you want to know why she's a monster?” I struggle to say through the tightness of my throat. That one sentence makes me cough again, then I struggle on. “It's because the world treated her like one. Those who are treated like a monster cannot . . . help . . .

“. . . oh god!”

I finally collapse on my side then roll to my back. My pony body and hair covers in mud. Rain pours down my face.

“Please . . . enough, Cozy. Just stop,” Twilight says in a very sad voice. “Let's get you home to your mother and inhaler.”

Twilight's magical purple aura surrounds my pony body for a brief moment, but it stops when I give a shrill scream.

It may sound like I am panicking, but that scream is out of pure, agonizing pain.

The scream pauses of only brief moments as I fall into another hacking fit, then I resume it because . . . no plan. None at all. Just raw pain exploding from my chest. I scream because I truly cannot stop.

“Cozy, this needs to stop! You're getting sick out here, and you need your inhaler. Maybe more.”

The glow of her aura surrounds me again, provoking another reflexive scream. That does seem to weaken her concentration a bit but she does not relent this time. I could feel tingeing, ticklish sensation cover my body like being swarmed by tiny ice pricks.

“Stop it, Cozy! This is serious! You need help!”

“Just leave me ALONE!” I scream at her then desperately fling mud straight at her face. My aim lands perfectly. Her horn stops glowing as she screeches in pain. Immediately she shakes her head and tries to wipe her eyes with her muddy hooves.

This is my chance!

I desperately struggle to stand then gallop away from her as fast as I can. I nearly stumble more than a few times, but I recover quickly and race on.

“COZY GLOW, STOP!” Twilight cries out to me. “YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND! I JUST WANT TO HELP YOU! LET ME HELP YOU!”

Like you “helped” my pony counterpart? Thanks but no thanks, Twilight! I can take care of myself.

This is why I know friendship is a myth!
> Chapter Thirteen: Escape from Canterlot
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Although  it kills me inside to do this, I plunge my whole body into the mud. I  let the thick sludge drip down my head onto my neck and shoulders. With  that much mud on my head and tail, it weighs them down, thus making it  no longer curly while concealing most of its natural color at the same  time. Inwardly I cringe so hard at this, but desperate times call for  desperate measures. 

I make my way back into the castle and navigate to the front entrance. Along the way, I realize I'm leaving mud tracks as I go as well as attracting vacant stares from other ponies as I pass them, but I ignore them and continue on my way. 

It's okay. They can stare all they want. I won't be here for long. 

Two royal guards are posted at the main entrance and exit of the castle. Both of them are facing an outward direction. Apparently their main concern is those entering into the castle. 

I almost pass by them without a word, but I halt as it occurs to me that perhaps I could gather valuable information from these two. 

“Um,  excuse me,” I ask one of them, in this case a white pegasus. His eyes  shift to me while his face remains directed forward. The moment he spots  me, he widens his eyes in astonishment. Hopefully it is not out of direct recognition. 

“Um, yeah.” I look down at myself. “I fell asleep in the royal Canterlot Garden a little while ago. It's just my luck that happens when the area is scheduled for a rainstorm today. I can't wait to get home and take a bath.” 

I actually mean it. 

“I . . . see,” the guard accepts.	 

I inwardly breathe a sigh of relief. It looks like he does not recognize me after all. Not yet, anyway. 

“I  got a quick question for you,” I broach to the guard. He nods for me to  proceed, silently signaling his attention. “When was the last time you  saw the Princess stroll through here? It's very urgent that I speak with  her.” 

I  ask that because I want to establish her position and the timing. She  had to have crossed through here. This is the main entrance. 

“I haven't seen her all day, Ma'am,” the guard told me. 

I widen my eyes. “All day? Are you serious?” 

“Yes, Ma'am,” the guard reports. 

“But . . . this is the main entrance and exit of the castle. Is there another?” I check. 

“Well, you are right that this is  the main entrance and exit, but Princess Twilight has other ways of  getting around. For example, flying off one of the upper balconies, or  she can just teleport.” 

Teleport? She can do that? 

That figures. 

I look beyond the exit to the city outside. 

This  is annoying. No wonder she could sneak up on me so easily at the  gardens. This also helps to explain how she got updated with information  from Ponyville so fast, unless she has another way that I still don't know about. 

Damn. I wish I could teleport. That would make my life so much easier. Probably even fun. 

But still, this is useful intel. Now that I'm aware of this, I need to recalculate my attack strategy.  

At this point, Twilight probably redirected some of her forces to monitor the train station since she knows that I need that transportation method to get back to Ponyville. Another choke point she can monitor is the portal back to my world, but let's take this one step at a time. 

I was originally planning to head to the train station, but now that I'm aware that Twilight can easily head me off at the pass, I'll need a new strategy. 

I'll need a diversion. 

“I  see. This is useful information,” I tell the guard honestly. In  response, he nods and smiles a bit, happy to help. “However, if you haven't  seen her pass through this way, it might also mean she's still in the  castle. I better check inside one more time just to make sure.” 

“Uh  . . .” he looks at me from head to hoof then back up to my head. He  raises an eyebrow hesitantly as if to suggest my current muddy condition  makes my decision against his recommendation. 

“I  know. I'm a mess, but this is important.” I back up into the castle  again. “Just in case you see the Princess before I do, can you give her a  message for me?” 

His expression returns to normal. He says, “Sure. What's the message?” 

“Tell her that I well remember all that she's done for me, and tell her not to worry. Assure her that I always repay my debts. She'll know what that means.” 

I am about to turn to leave until a question from him makes me pause and look back at him. 

“Whom should I tell her the message is from?” 

“Tell her the message is from a very old friend,” I reply then turn to leave back into the castle.  

The instant my face is no longer towards him, it sinks to a grim and focused look. 

“Um, Miss?” He calls after me. “The Princess of Friendship has many old friends. That does not exactly narrow it down.” 

I continue on in silence. 




* * * 



 


While  my face remains grim and focused, I analyze everything. The furniture,  the passing ponies, the guests, the number of guards and their  positions, the outside weather, the shape of the hallway I trot through,  how many doors I pass. Each piece of information I assign a chess piece  in my mind to one of multiple chess boards that I am mentally  monitoring simultaneously. With each change I observe or every move I  make, I move the appropriate piece on the chessboards. The only  difference is the pieces are updated constantly. There are no “turns” in the game of real life. 

I focus on these chess pieces very hard to avoid paying attention to my bothersome emotions which threaten my concentration and sanity. I can't afford that right now. 

As  I roam the hallways, I pass something off the corner of my right eye  that seizes my attention. I back up a few steps then fully look to my  right. Beyond the wall to my left is the outside of the castle. To my  right, I see an opening on the wall that isn't shut by a door but rather a locked gate. Beyond the gate, I see a bunch of very old  and very important looking scrolls. In addition, there seems to be lots  of ball and star-shaped things hanging from the ceiling that look like  models of celestial constellations. 

Hello! This looks promising. 

I  turn to fully face this gate and approach it. I examine the room beyond  carefully. I notice that there are some books and tomes in the library  beyond, but most of it is just really old scrolls. I can tell from the smell wafting from the room. 

Princess Twilight likes books, doesn't she? If I do something to these books, tomes, and scrolls, that will get her attention. Maybe also serve as a distraction? 

I now examine the gate itself. It is secured by a very heavy looking steel padlock. I lift it with a hoof for a brief moment. I quickly determine that there is no way I'm going to be able to break this or pick this, especially while I'm still in a body I'm not accustomed to. 

But there is more than one way to skin a cat! 

. . . 

Not that I'd ever truly skin a cat. I may be a villain but that shit is just too dark even for me. In fact, if I ever catch anyone else doing something that cruel to animals, they'll earn my wrath for damn sure. 

Lucky  for me, Trixie's cloak and hat comes equipped with hidden surprises.  Thinking back to when I noticed them during my travel on the train, I am  reminded of something Trixie once said, and even sang, a long time ago. 



“You better believe . . . I got tricks up my sleeve.” 



I’ll  never doubt the sincerity of that claim ever again now that I have  discovered proof of it. Trixie may be a talentless, egocentric, and  empty-headed hack, but at least now I know for sure she comes prepared  whenever she pops onto the stage in a puff of blue smoke (which often  triggers my asthma attack if I'm too close to the front of the stage). 

Tricks up her sleeve indeed! I'll give her a B- for effort, at least. 

I respect people who are genuinely passionate about their work, no matter how bad they otherwise are. 

In this case, I pull out several firework rockets and aim them through the bars of the gate. These ones are pretty easy to trigger, too. All I have to  do is rip the cap off of them fast. Doing so scrapes the wicks of the  fireworks like starting a stick of dynamite. This also gives me time to  aim the rockets and then back off before they blast on me. 

Bingo!  That works! The rockets fire off into the library and crash into the  shelves. One of them even ricochets back and forth between multiple  shelves, setting each of their contents on fire. My attempt actually ends up a little better than I thought it would. 

I  am quite the whiz kid when it comes to geometry measurements, but the  rockets I was dealing with were an unknown X factor to my math. Without  knowing them intimately, I had to do some guess work. 

I watch for a short while as the blaze in the next room spreads. It spread rather quickly, actually. The paper in there must be very dry and old. 

One  thing I observe that I did not account for are magical sparks exploding  from some of the scrolls that burn in the next room. I'm not used to  taking “magical'' documents into account because I'm not used to their  existence at all. This just means that the documents are likely even  more valuable. This is an unexpected bonus. 

I narrow my eyes at this and smile in evil glee. 

Good! This probably will twist the knife even further into Princess Twilight's black heart! 

When it seems the blaze has spread enough to make it quite difficult to put out anymore, I scream. 

“GUARDS! GUARDS! GET OVER HERE, QUICKLY! GUARDS!” 

There  is one guard patrolling the hallway nearby that hears my outcry. He  spurs into a hard gallop to catch up to me when he hears the frantic  urgency in my voice. 

“What happened?” the large brown earth pony guard asks upon arrival. 

“See for yourself,” I bid as I nod beyond the gate. He turns to look then widens his eyes in horror. 

“Oh my CELESTIA! Starswirl's manuscripts!” he cries out in alarm. 

Good. That sounds important. 

“Quickly, find more help to put out the fire!” I frantically recommend to the guard. 

“Did you see who did this?” He asks me quickly as he turns to look at me. 

His question gives me an idea. 

“Actually,  yes. I kind of did,” I lie. “Or at least I think I did. I spotted a  suspicious pony in the Royal Canterlot Gardens a short while ago, but it  was too dark to make out any details. I tried to stop that pony and ended up tripping into the mud because, again, it was too dark. I don't even know what I tripped on, hence the reason I'm so muddy right now. 

“What I do  know, however, is that the suspicious pony galloped inside the castle. I  tried to chase the pony down. Along the way, I spotted this!” I gesture beyond the gate to the room with the quickly spreading flames. At first  I am looking through the gate, then my eyes shift to look at the guard.  “You need to warn the others to search for the suspicious pony as well.  If you hurry, you won't have to check a large search radius.” 

He examines me. I can tell what he's thinking. After all, I look suspicious. I can't let him dwell on that thought. 

“What are you standing around here for? The room is on fire and the culprit is getting away! GO!” 

That spurs him into action. He zips by me in a hurry. 

My eyes narrow as they follow him. 

That's right! Dance for your Queen, my little puppet! 

I whip my head away from him as I gallop the way I came from. 

That should do it! That should gain their attention. 

However,  Princess Twilight is the counterpart to my mother, and my mother is a  genius. Not as bright as me, but I must give credit where credit is due. 

Plus,  they both know me. Surely that is enough to tip Princess Twilight off  to the fact that the fire is a diversion. She may be forced into action  on this because of how much she cares for that which is in the burning  library, but I calculate a ninety-three percent chance that she will not  be fooled for long, so I have to hurry! 

Multiple  chess pieces on the boards in my mind dance around as a result of the  new information I am gathering. Things are set in motion, and that  creates a limited window of opportunity. 

But I fail to make it back to the front entrance when I hear a boom throughout the castle that I do not expect. 

“ATTENTION! ATTENTION, EVERYPONY! THIS IS PRINCESS TWILIGHT SPARKLE SPEAKING! THIS CASTLE IS NOW UNDER EMERGENCY LOCK DOWN.  ALL GUESTS IN THE CASTLE, PLEASE PROCEED TO THE NEAREST ROYAL GUARD.  THEY WILL ESCORT YOU TO YOUR OWN PRIVATE CHAMBERS IN THE CASTLE UNTIL A  CERTAIN CRISIS HAS BEEN AVERTED. 

“ALL  GUARDS, IN ADDITION TO ESCORTING OUR GUESTS TO A SAFE ROOM, ALSO BE ON  THE LOOKOUT FOR A DARK PINK TEENAGED PEGASUS WITH BLUE CURLY MANE AND  TAIL. IF YOU SPOT HER, PLEASE BRING HER TO ME IN THE ROYAL THRONE ROOM, BUT BE SURE SHE IS NOT HARMED. REPEAT, SHE IS NOT TO BE HARMED! I KNOW IT WILL BE HARD SINCE SHE IS UNLIKELY TO COOPERATE, BUT TRY YOUR BEST NOT TO EVEN SCARE HER ANY FURTHER. SHE HAS MEDICAL RESPIRATORY PROBLEMS SO SHE MUST BE TREATED VERY DELICATELY. 

“AND  . . . SHIMMERING SPECTACLES . . . IF YOU ARE LISTENING TO THIS MESSAGE  AS WELL . . . PLEASE DON'T BE SCARED. IF YOU COME QUIETLY TO MY THRONE  ROOM, I'LL EXPLAIN EVERYTHING. I'LL ANSWER ALL OF YOUR QUESTIONS AND  MORE. YOU NEED TO KNOW WHAT REALLY HAPPENED. IT'S VERY IMPORTANT. 

“NOPONY WILL HARM YOU. I PROMISE.” 

I  immediately start checking the rooms in the hallway the moment I hear  the announcement, “This is Princess Twilight Sparkle speaking!” When I  realize that my nemesis has a way to communicate to the whole castle all  at once, I realize that I cannot be seen in the hallways anymore. 

I curse my fate. I nearly reach the front entrance, but I'm not taking any chances. 

Besides, now that I know that the castle is in emergency lock down, I already know the guards at the front entrance won't let me go anyway so there is no point in checking. 

The  third door I check is not locked. I enter it without hesitation even as  I continue to listen to Princess Twilight's announcement. After all, if  she's blaring her announcement to every creature in the castle, then she's also revealing her whole hoof of cards to me. I won't reject a free opportunity to learn the resources of my opponent. 

After  I shut myself in the new room, I hold it shut by leaning on the door. I  steer my ears behind me to listen if the room I am in is unoccupied. It  seems I am lucky again, at least for the moment. 

While standing there like that, I listen to the conclusion of Twilight's announcement. When it is done, I narrow my eyes. 

Well of course she does not want to harm me! That would weaken her leverage. If the issue is only about me then I'm sure she would not hesitate to freeze me in stone as well, but her problem is my mother is also involved. 

My  mother's knowledge is jump-starting Horse-Lands technology level by at  least a century. Power like that is too valuable to ignore lightly. As long as my mother remains useful, Twilight needs me relatively unharmed. 

At least, unharmed physically.  Mental harm is another story entirely. If it is within Princess  Twilight's power, which I am finding very unwise to underestimate right  now, I'm sure she would use her magic to erase my memories of ever  visiting Horse-Land as well as the awful fate she has in store for me  eventually. 

Failing that, she'll at least want to cut a deal with me to shut me up until my mother's usefulness is complete. After that, it's anybody's game. 

No thank you! I won't let you touch my memories, Twilight! I remember my foes. 

I will never forget. I will never forgive! 

It's  interesting that Princess Twilight did not announce my true name over  the “magic intercom” or whatever the spell is called. Maybe she did not  want to start a panic? 

Another thing that's  interesting is she did not describe Trixie's cloak that I am currently  wearing. That, too, would be a useful identification mark for the guards  to know. Why leave them in ignorance? 

Unless . . . she didn't! Maybe she secretly  informed the guards of that identification mark. She did not blare that  information out loud because she knew that I might be listening. If she  did announce it out loud, she knew there was a high probability that I would ditch the cloak. 

Which means I have to ditch it anyway. I can't  take the chance that she secretly passed on the info to her guards. A  cloak like this stands out too much anyway despite how much it's  covered in mud. Gathering attention is likely the entire point of the  cloak's gaudy design. That theory compliments what I know of Trixie  herself. She always did like to be the center of attention. 

I pause a moment as I mentally assess the chess pieces on the boards in my mind as they stand. 

Princess  Twilight's announcement moved a lot of pieces around all the boards of  my mind simultaneously. That was one massive move on her part. Now it's time to reassess the new results. 

I have to  ditch the cloak for sure. The castle is now on high alert and on lock  down. The guards have been given some description of me. The mud on me  partially obscures that, but now they are likely to arrest anyone that looks remotely suspicious. If I resemble the description Twilight passed at all, they'll  escort me to her throne room where she'll not only erase my memories of  my time in Horse-Land but potentially modify my memories as well. I must avoid her at all costs for the moment. 

Alright, Cozy. This is a challenge, but you've got this. Twilight may be a Princess, but you are a Queen! Act accordingly. Assess all of  your resources. Get your pawns to the other side of the board and  upgrade them. Moreover, make your enemies resources work against them.  You still need a unicorn to open the portal back to earth, after all,  and it also has to  be a pony who knows how to operate the machine. To your knowledge, only  one pony in this world qualifies for sure on that front. 

Starlight Glimmer may also serve your purposes to open the gate, but the odds of that aren't  as high. Plus, from what you can tell of your mother, Princess Twilight  is more likely to be a naive fool. Starlight Glimmer, on the other  hand, is a bit too unknown of a factor. 

Besides,  you have no idea where Glimmer is anyway. Certain locations may be more  likely, but not likely enough to make it wise to count on. 

Work with what you know. When possible, gather more information and resources along the way as well. 

And for God's sake, ditch the stupid looking cloak already! 

I push away from the door. Using my wings under the cloak, I finally pull the awful thing off of  me. Once that is done, I search the cloak one more time to see if there  are any more useful things in there for me to collect since this is my  last chance to check. I find a few things that might come in handy  later. 

Once  I do, however, I look at them and wonder where to put them. I pause for  a few seconds on that thought until I recall Pinkie Pie stuffing an unusual amount of stuff in her hair effectively. 

Something  is very unusual about Pinkie Pie's hair, at least in my reality. It  seems gummy and tangled which helps her to hold stuff in there. The really surprising thing about it is the sheer amount of stuff she stores in there. It's as if her hair is like a magical Bag of Holding. How utterly fascinating and illogical. 

Something  tells me that Pinkie's pony counterpart might be a bit weirder. Failing  that, the odds are at least stronger that her pony self is more  magical. Considering how magical her human self is in a world that tends  to lack it completely, that's saying something. 

I don't  have Pinkie's elastic or reality-bending qualities myself, but my hair  is currently muddy and drying. It can at least temporarily serve as  storage. The part of me that's like Rarity shrivels at the thought of  using my hair like this, but I'm running low on options so this is no time to be sentimental. 

I'll do plenty of pillow crying later when I have this current crisis resolved. 

So  I stuff some of Trixie's useful gadgets into my hair then finally move  on. While I do, I carefully balance my head to make sure the stuff does  not fall out. Fortunately, the items are too light to put a serious  strain on my neck, at least for now. 

Looking around, I notice that this room has a window leading outside. Also, I'm  on the first floor. I trot over to the window and push it open easily.  Looking down, I notice that the window is only three feet off the ground  this time. I can easily climb over this. 

Oh! Well, this is easy. 




* * * 



 


I  navigate my way through Canterlot city and do my best not to be  spotted. The important thing I keep in mind is not to run . . . or  gallop, I should say. Instead, I play it cool and casual, like I really  belong here. My dry muddy body attracts some attention, but it is mostly  disdain, especially from the city's unusually high population of social  elite. 

Along the way out of the city, I manage to swipe up a hand fan, or is it hoof fan? And how the hell do these ponies hold this stuff with their hooves anyway? 

Probably the same way they manage to turn doorknobs by touching them. 

Error! System crashing! Recommend immediate restart. 

Despite the evidence I gather that it is possible to hold objects with a hoof, I can't wrap my head around it enough to do it myself. Besides, I'm having trouble enough as it is walking on four legs. Limiting myself to three seems unreasonable under these circumstances. 

Not to mention that my wings function as more than an adequate replacement for my hands. In fact, I'd even go so far as to call them better because they have a longer reach and are far more flexible. Every long feather of my wings sort of acts like a tentacle.  I think this because each feather is flexible with every inch of it up  to the tip. As a result, I can easily wrap my feathers around any object  I grasp, such as the “hoof” fan. 

Which,  in turn, I use to shield my face from view without looking too  suspicious. My wings would work to conceal me better except then I'd actually look like I'm hiding something. If I'm just fanning myself, however, no pony bats an eye at me. 

My destination isn't  the train station, however. There is an eighty-percent chance that  guards are already posted at the station with orders to arrest me on  sight, and the odds are increasing over time because that just means  they have more time to set themselves up there. 

Twilight  might be able to teleport herself, but I calculate an eighty-five  percent chance that is a rare skill, otherwise I would have seen more  unicorns pull that off. Why would there be any unicorns on the train,  for example, if they could just teleport themselves to their destination? Is distance a factor? 

But maybe Twilight can teleport others, or carry others in her spell if they stand at close range. 

Failing  that, I know the pegasi guards can get to the station far faster than I  can even with their bulky armor to weigh them down, which is why I  calculate such high odds that the station is already being monitored. 

So, instead of the train station, I'm looking at a far more bold plan. 

But I really dread this necessity. 

I  make my way to the edge of Canterlot. There I notice, with a nod of  approval, that they have indeed set up a kind of wall around the outer  edge of the city. 

I regard that as a wise precaution. I would have been really upset at this city's designers if they overlooked that really important  detail. In a society where only one-third of the population can  possibly fly, that brings up a serious concern for the other young  fillies and colts who play too close to the edge of death. 

With  enough ingenuity, of which I have plenty, I find a clever way around  this obstacle, only to find myself facing a greater one. 

I now stand at the edge of the cliff with the protective wall of the city now behind me. There I press my back to the wall like I did with the window in Ponyville. 

There is one critical difference between these two scenarios, though. One was only a six foot drop, give or take a few feet, but this  . . . I am above some of the clouds. The ground is too far below to  make out any details. All I can really see is the basic coloration of  the whole landscape. 

So, unless this world really does operate on cartoon physics, the obstacle that looms before me is truly deadly this time. 

Besides, sometimes even cartoon physics is not enough to save a character. When they get the ax, though, it's usually off-screen if the cartoon is G-Rated. 

Alright, Cozy, I don't  blame you for panicking with this one. The other situation was  downright ridiculous, but this . . . your fears are well justified. 

If I take this plunge . . . that's it. I either fly, or I die. It's as simple as that. 

I narrow my eyes slightly as I gaze off the cliff. While I do that, I'm hyperventilating some, but it isn't as bad as last time, oddly enough. Maybe it's because of my motivation or curious sort of acceptance? 

I really would rather die than be condemned to the fate I saw for my other filly self, especially if it turns out her consciousness is still awake and aware. That is the ultimate fear of cleithrophobia. I didn't have that fear before today, but now I very likely do. 

I'm never going to shake that image from my mind. My filly self, frozen in time, unable to move. Unable to cry. Unable to call for help despite how desperately she wants to. 

Princess  Twilight probably wants me to forget that. Normally I would agree,  except for two things; number one, I am a spirit of vengeance! I neither  forget nor forgive those who have slighted me. 

Number two, I fear that will be my fate if I drop my guard. My mother acts like a temporary shield, but eventually her usefulness will come to an end.  After that, the other minions of Princess Twilight will come for me to  make sure to eliminate the last threat to her Queendom. If I do not  remember the threat she poses to me, then I'll be far less prepared to defend myself. 

So I'll do anything . . . literally anything . . . to avoid that fate. 

Even this. 

As  I look over the edge of the cliff, it occurs to me why I fear this less  despite the greater threat it poses over the last time I faced  something “similar”. It's because I've encountered something else that I now fear more. 

It's still true that I don't want to die, but if I had to choose death or the possibility to be locked in stone for eternity while still alive, then I choose this. I choose death. 

When I reach that conclusion, an oddly calming sensation washes over me. It even puzzles me for a moment. Why do I feel so calm all of the sudden? This is far worse than the six foot drop I faced earlier. 

The  answer, I reason, has to do with inner acceptance. Even when I face a  dangerous challenge, it is far easier to face it with a complete  understanding of who I am. 

I am a woman who will do anything to avoid the fate I saw. 

I am a woman who will do whatever it takes to achieve her vengeance. 

I am a woman who loves her mother, and will do anything it takes to return to her loving embrace. 

There are many smaller goals in my life, too. Things that don't feel as important individually but, when I add them all up, it feels very significant altogether. 

Plus,  and this one is important: I am Cozy Glow, a woman who can achieve her  dreams no matter what obstacle is placed in front of me. 

I am special. 

I am amazing. 

I am! 

I spread my wings and gaze over the cliff defiantly. 

Enough of this tripe! This challenge is far beneath me. 

Besides, I don't  need to learn how to fly yet. All I need to get down is to merely  glide. For that, I just need to hold my wings straight. Small  adjustments may be necessary due to wind currents but, other than that, the physics of the issue is pretty simple. 

Indeed, far too simple for a genius like me to be overwhelmed. 

Besides, this is nothing compared to what I will achieve. 

Pay careful attention to this, Horse-Land. 

Watch me fly! 

Or . . . at least . . . fall with style.
> Chapter Fourteen: Checkmate, Twilight
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

My gliding strategy helps me to make it eighty percent to my destination. I have to admit, it felt liberating and exhilarating while it lasted despite my initial fears.

    However, that last twenty percent is slow going by hoof. That activity alone consumes most of the remaining daylight hours in Horse-Land.

    Before the light fully fades, I lift my locket with my left wing and gaze fondly upon it. As I press onward, my eyes glaze over due to the happy, nostalgic memories I have with my mother.

    For instance, there was this one time I was busy washing dishes at the sink. My mother sneaks up behind me like a ninja then suddenly embraces me from behind.

    “Hey!” I cried out, startled.

    “Gotcha!” my mother tells me playfully and triumphantly. “Sneak attack hug mission successful! I have gained a level! That's at least a plus five to my 'love' stat for you.”

    “You also almost knocked me over and made me drop the dishes!” I had complained to her.

    “Mmm!” My mother pressed her face into my back and wiggled it from side to side. Since I stood on a small stepping stool, my back was nearly to the level of her face but she still had to stoop down a little. “Oh Cozy, I love you so much! You really do make my life complete.”

    Warmth filled my heart as well as an aching degree of gratitude.

    I told her, “Please, Mom. Please squeeze me tighter.”

    “Gladly!” she said happily then proceeded to do so.

    I clasped her clasped hands on my chest, squeezed it, and pressed it into me further. As she squeezed me, it felt like she squeezed warm tears from my body which leaked up to my eyes due to the increased pressure.

    Please let this be real! Please don't ever wake up from this wonderful dream!

    My mind turns to another fond memory with my mother, this one very early in our relationship together.

    I yawned and stretched as I walked into the kitchen while still wearing my pajamas. Back then I was still only eleven years old. I almost said something as I walked into the kitchen, but I got distracted by my mother's singing as she watered the plants in the kitchen.



    “Give a little and you . . .

    get a little and you . . .

    give a little and you . . .

    get a little and you . . .



    “Oh my!” My mother gasped and blinked at me in surprise when she finally noticed me in the kitchen. “Good morning, Honey! Did you sleep well? I made you breakfast!”

    “I noticed!” I told her happily. “Something smells gooood, and I am starving! What's for breakfast, Mommy?”

    “OH!” My mother suddenly turned to me with a start and placed her hand in front of her mouth. She almost dropped the can of water that she was using to hydrate the plants in the kitchen.

    It quickly dawned on me that something I said startled her, but I wasn’t sure what. I even asked her back then.

    “What?” I asked her in a little alarm. “What did I say?”

    Please don't tell me I offended her already! Please don't tell me she's about to kick me out!

    My mother just stared at me for four seconds of silence. After that, happy tears leaked from her eyes. She set the water can aside then raced to me a bit urgently. Once she arrived, she knelt in front of me and fondly kissed my forehead.

    I appreciated the gesture, and it was reassuring, but I was also still confused. What did I do to deserve this? Whatever it was, I wanted to know so I could keep on doing it!

    Leaning her head back enough so that I could see her teary, happy face, she reached a purple hand beneath her glasses and wiped her tears away one side at a time. She sniffed a bit as she finally said, “I'm sorry, Cozy. It's just that . . . this is the very first time you called me 'Mommy'!”

    “Oh!” I blinked, realizing that she was probably right.

    “When you said that, that fact suddenly hit me so hard.”

    My mother suddenly embraced me.

    “And it's true!” my mother said with explosive joy. “I am your mother from now on, and I will always be your mother! From here on, we're on the same team.

    “My Cozy! My special, special little girl!”

    I embraced her in return. Moisture rose to my own eyes. My thoughts kept cycling on how amazing it felt to have a mother once again. To be the center of attention once again. To be hugged, loved, and told that I am special.

    I had doubted it for so long at the orphanage.

    I bawled on her shoulder, releasing years of pent up pain and pressure.

    I needed this so badly! I kept getting surprised to discover how much I needed that.

    My eyes focus back in the present as I lower my locket and tuck the wing that held it on my back again.

    “I am your mother from now on, and I will always be your mother! From now on, we're on the same team,” my mother repeats in my mind.

    Never again! Never alone again!

    My pace increases from a trot to a canter. My face becames focused and determined.




* * *



 


    It is dark when I make it back to Ponyville, which serves to my advantage. With the sun set and the moon up, most of the ponies in Ponyville do not roam the streets anymore. The few who still do are easy to hide from due to the darker lighting conditions.

    Still, I'm in a very bad mood. I'm tired. I'm hungry. I'm cranky. My legs feel as heavy as iron.

    I cannot recall when I last felt this exhausted.

    The interesting thing about it is, I seem to have a naturally higher constitution as a pony. I imagine it could be higher still if I were a full-blown earth pony but, even as a pegasus, my heart beats as strong as horses, which is a whole lot stronger than my normal human heart.

    Despite this, I am still exhausted! The ordeals of my day pushes my higher limits far beyond comfortable capacity!

    On top of that is all of my draining emotional stress. I wish I could dismiss that, but it is still among the reasons that cracks my sanity today.

    Nevertheless, I think I did pretty well for myself after considering all the facts. I leaped in mostly unprepared to an alien world and explored it in an adorable alien body. I managed to penetrate a royal castle to find out the truth then later escaped while the castle was on high alert.

    I had no allies and very few resources, and yet I managed to outmaneuver all of my opponents so far.

    I only have a few more moves left to go before I can checkmate this particular game.

    I would have chosen to wait for nightfall before sneaking back into the college dormitory anyway, but it turns out that nightfall descends before I arrive back in town regardless.

    As I approach that building, I get an opportunity to examine it more carefully despite the lower lighting conditions. That makes me realize that the building is actually a giant purple crystal tree.

    Huh. Maybe it really did grow straight from the ground.

    Judging by the architecture of the rest of the buildings in this town and the city of Canterlot, I determine that there is an eighty-nine percent chance that the purple crystal tree is a rather unique building in Horse-Land. For it to stand out as much as it does, it must have a fascinating origin story.

    Unfortunately, I do not have time to explore that story. I need to get back home.

    The front door of the giant crystal tree appears quite heavy. This is why surprise claims me when it opens rather easily upon my attempt. It's not even locked.

    But a part of me expected that, just like how I expect an ambush waiting for me near the portal.

    Entering into the building, I find no other creature roaming the crystal hallways. All doors are shut. It's too quiet here, but again . . . I expect this. There is a genuine possibility that the entire building is indeed evacuated of every creature except those waiting at the portal, else every creature inside has been told to remain quiet when I pass by.

    Whatever. I'll let them think I am oblivious to this fact. If every creature decides to stay out of my way, so much, the better.

    Although I seem to focus exclusively on my destination, my ears keep swiveling every which way. I secretly remain on high alert, just in case any creature decides to ambush me in the hallways. If they do, I decide to resist. I won't make my final stand until I'm closer to the other end of the chessboard.

    Thankfully, nobody dares to oppose me.

    I make it all the way to the storage room. When I arrive, I glare at my old nemesis.

    Hello Doorknob, my old friend!

    Remember me? You almost broke my neck last time we met, but ah! I've learned some neat new tricks since last we crossed paths! Say hello to my new little friend, Miss Right Wing.

    Without any trouble, I grasp the doorknob with my right wing, turn it, then push it open.

    “Knock-knock!” I call inside with a sinister, playful tone. “Golly, I sure hope no pony is in here waiting to ambush little ol’ me, because I am so off my guard right now.”

    No answer to my sarcastic comment.

    I shrug carelessly then stroll in.

    I only make it eight steps into the room when I hear a magical tingling sound behind me. I look back and see my old friend, Mr. Doorknob, glowing with a magenta glow. Not only does the door shut, but it sounds like it locks seconds later.

    I roll my eyes.

    Of course.

    One thing that does surprise me, however, is when I get snagged by a yellow rope that wraps around my body and pulls my wings tightly to my side.

    “Ouch!” I exclaim.

    “If you were expecting an ambush here, why did you come back?” asks a purple mare that I cannot identify. Whomever this is, she is a unicorn. Unlike Twilight, the purple hide of this mare is a much lighter shade. Similar to Twilight, this mare also has a different color streak running through her mane and tail, but it's teal.

    For a second I am about to open my mouth to ask who she is but I hesitate as I sense more movement around me. Looking back, I see another mare emerge from hiding. This is an orange mare who is holding the other end of the rope with her mouth. She's apparently an earth pony. Unlike the other purple mare, I do kind of recognize the second mare.

    “Applejack? Is that you?” I ask her in astonishment and recognition.

    The orange mare wearing the brown cowboy hat spits out her rope which she quickly coils around her left hoof.

    “Darn tooten!” Applejack confirms. “I see ya met my human counterpart, else ya wouldn't have recognized me. Too bad she didn't tell ya about the importance of honesty.”

    I briefly struggle within the ropes until I hear more movement in the room. First my ears flick in that direction, then my gaze. I see two more emerge behind large, scattered objects in the room. One of them is Princess Twilight Sparkle, and the other seems to be some kind of dragon . . . maybe? Whomever he is, he's standing upright. He appears to be a teenager in general appearance, much like me. Unlike me, he has a purple hide, green spikes descending from his head and down his spine, and he is very buff, especially in the upper part of his body. It's as if he is used to carrying lots of heavy luggage with unusual frequency.

    “Any more of you ready to spring on me in this little surprise party of ours?” I ask while I droop my eyelids halfway. “You do know my birthday is not until late December, right?”

    “No. It's just the four of us for now,” the unidentified purple mare announces.

    “And we're all we need to keep a tab on ya,” Applejack assures. “Though we can call upon our other friends if need be, so don't ya give us any more fuss.”

    “I still can't get over the fact of how much more adorable you all look as ponies!” I say in a bit of a giddy way. “Except . . . I never met the two of you.” I look back and forth between the purple mare and the dragon.

    The unidentified purple unicorn gestures to herself with a hoof. “I am Starlight Glimmer. I'm not surprised you haven't heard of me, but I am surprised you don’t recognize my good friend here, Spike.”

    I look at the dragon in shock. “Wait! Spike? Did you say Spike?”

    “I see you heard of me!” Spike brags as he puts his claw fists on his hips in a bold, heroic pose. “Then again, I'm not too surprised. Old Spike the Brave and Glorious is hard to forget.” His expression dissolves to a more normal level. “Having said that, I guess I'm not too surprised that you don't recognize me. I am a dog in the other universe, after all, but my voice, at least, is a dead giveaway, right?”

    I shake my head at him. “No. This is the first time I've ever met you in any form.”

    “Really?” Spike squints his left eye at me in suspicion. “But . . . you do live with the other Twilight, don't you? She has a pet dog that looks like me whenever I cross over to the other side and, unlike other normal dogs, he got zapped by something that helps him to talk too.”

    “I have seen a few video footages of your counterpart on a computer,” I admit honestly, “but . . . I'm sorry to tell you this, but the Spike from my universe passed away before my mother adopted me.” I look down sadly. “I still can't shake the feeling that's precisely why my mother adopted me. She wanted to fill the hole in her heart that losing her old friend had caused.”

    Spike's eyes exploded wide open as he exclaimed, “WHAT?! Are you being serious right now?”

    I eye him sadly. I'm not even faking.

    “So you are telling me that I'm dead in the other universe?” Spike asks in utter astonishment and horror. He then looks at his friend, Twilight. “Did you know about this too?”

    Now it is Twilight's turn to look down sadly, but she otherwise doesn't have the heart to say anything.

    “How did this happen?!” Spike asks me in a somewhat demanding tone.

    “I don't know,” I reply sincerely. “I never had the heart to ask my mother. Every time something brings up the subject, she gets all sad, and I hate to see my mother sad.”

    “Spike,” Applejack began in a sympathetic tone, “maybe ya other self simply passed away from old age. While it's true that dragons can live for ages, dogs are another story entirely. They don't have the lifespan that we ponies do, or probably even humans, for that matter. When I buried Winona, that was the gosh hardest thing I ever had to do.”

    “I, uh . . .” Spike rubbed his left arm with his right claw, “. . . think I need a minute to process this. I kind of feel like someone stepped on my grave.”

    “Take all the time you need, Spike,” Twilight sympathetically invited.

    Spike leaves the room a short while later. No pony spoke until then.

    Thinning out the number of opponents working against me may work in my favor, but I meant every word I said to Spike. It honestly does feel kind of good to finally meet the one my mother adored before me, in a way.

    “I repeat my question, if you expected to be ambushed here, why did you return?” Starlight asks me firmly.

    “I expected the ambush because I knew that you all knew that I had to come here to get back home, which is precisely what I am here to do,” I answer. “Also, I learned earlier that Princess Twilight can teleport. Failing that, she can fly, so there is no way in hell that I could beat her to this destination. Once she's here, I figured she'd recruit at least some of her minions to prepare for my arrival.

    “Nevertheless, I had to come since I am desperate to get back home.” I look down a bit. “I want to be with my mom again. I want to go back to my world. Horse-Land is a neat place to visit but it's not where I belong. That much is very clear to me now.”

    “I couldn't agree more,” Twilight concurs. “That said, there are a few things I need to make clearer to you.”

    “Save your breath, Twilight!” I spat. “I won't believe a word you say! Why should I believe you when I'm still under duress? You show up, spring upon me, and have your minion here throw a rope on me!”

    Applejack winces in annoyance. “Dang it! I am tired of hearing ya call me that! I am her friend, dagnabbit, not her 'minion'.” Applejack lifts her head up high. “But I s'pose ya never understood something like that? Our Cozy Glow never did either.”

    “Applejack, enough!” Twilight commands. “This Cozy is not our Cozy. She was raised in another world, and she's a much sweeter girl.”

    “You sure about that, Twilight?” Applejack asks Twilight skeptically.

    Twilight places a hoof on her chest as she declares, “Believe me, I was skeptical too at first, but she's done nothing other than trying to make her mother very proud of her. She gets lots of good grades, she studies very hard, has lots of hobbies, and surrounds herself with many wonderful friends.”

    “Sounds like you in a nutshell,” Starlight realizes with a grin. “Wow. She really is your daughter in that universe. Oh, I mean . . . her daughter. The other you.”

    “I know what you meant,” Twilight said to Starlight with a bit of a fond smile, then resumed speaking to the rest of her present minions. “She even helps out her school as Student Council President!” Twilight announces excitedly. “That's a lot of work for a growing young girl, especially when it's tacked on top of her own work in school, but she hoofles it very well! She does this so she can help lots of students at a time and make her world a better place, just like we are doing with our own world right now.”

    “Student Council President?!” Applejack balks incredulously. “Can't you hear yourself, Twilight? She went straight after power, just like she did in our universe!”

    “I'm a leader too,” Twilight reminds Applejack. “There's nothing inherently evil about that.”

    “Yeah, but this is Cozy Glow we're talk'n about, Twilight! Open ya eyes! Ya can't seriously be this dense!”

    “You didn't seek out power, it was thrust upon you,” Starlight points out. “I seriously doubt that one can become ‘Student Council President’ by accident, though. Just like in our world, one has to choose to be in the running for that. As such, this was a conscious decision on her part, and that suggests ambition at the very least. Does that sound familiar?”

    “Gals! This is not the same thing!” Twilight insists as she spreads her wings for a moment. “This is Cozy Glow, but not our Cozy Glow. It's no fairer for us to judge her based on the decisions of her pony self than it is for us to judge ourselves based on what our human counterparts do. They may be very similar, but they live vastly different lives. We need to be fair and reasonable about this!”

    “Like you were fair and reasonable with my pony self!” I bark harshly. “You talk about fairness and equality, Princess of Lies, yet you have me tied up right now. I bet you're irritated as hell that I'm still flesh and bone right now.”

    “Our Cozy was more dangerous than you can possibly imagine!” Applejack argues. “You have no right to condemn us until you fully understand what crimes she was guilty of.”

    “Still, you didn't give her a choice before turning her into a statue, did you?” I ask back at Applejack in a harsh tone.

    “We will,” Twilight suddenly assures which catches me off guard. I look upon her in shock.

    Even her “friends” are stunned.

    “Twilight, you . . . you can't be serious!” Starlight exclaims in shock.

    “I am!” Twilight assures firmly. “I've thought long and hard about this for years. Those three being stoned have always bothered me, and Cozy Glow is a pony. A pony citizen of my country, and I've let her down for all these years. I've been a terrible princess!”

    “Need I remind you, Twilight, she and her 'companions' tried to wreck all of Equestria!” Applejack brought up. “They stole Discord's magic for a short while there. They ruined your first coronation. They put every pony against each other. Why in the world would you give them another chance to ruin our lives?”

    “Because I am not like Lord Tirek, nor am I like Queen Chrysalis, or Cozy Glow, or King Sombra, or even Princess Celestia. I'm not any of those. Instead, I am Princess Twilight Sparkle, the Princess of Equestria and of Friendship. I don't rule my land with fear and tyranny, I rule through kindness, generosity, honesty, loyalty, joy, and hard-working leadership. All of you taught me that!” The princess gestures back and forth between both Applejack and Starlight. “Imagine what our world would be like if I was always as judgmental as some of the other rulers. Imagine if I never gave Starlight Glimmer a chance!” She gestures to Starlight which made Starlight look down thoughtfully.

    “Like it or not,” Twilight went on, “Cozy Glow is one of my citizens, but I didn't give her a chance. We just encased her in stone. No trial. No second thoughts. We just washed our hooves of the whole affair ever since then, except it kept me up many nights thinking about this and wishing there is a better way to hoofle this.”

    “If you free Cozy, you'd be freeing all of them,” Applejack warns.

    “I know,” Twilight says in a tone of acceptance. “I intend to help them, too.”

    Is this conversation seriously happening right now? Why would-

    I narrow my eyes a bit.

    I get it. Twilight is trying to catch me off guard. She knows me and knows what I want. She'll say anything to get me to drop my defenses! Perhaps that is required to erase my memories of this place. Maybe I have to sort of be willing.

    Well I'm not buying it! I'm not a fool! This whole debate is clearly staged.

    However, it might be to my advantage to pretend to be convinced.

    “If you're seriously considering this, at least take a few precautions,” Starlight advises as she looks back at Twilight. “Maybe we can construct an anti-magic collar for them to wear made of Queen Chrysalis's former throne.”

    I raise an eyebrow at that suggestion because I'm missing too much context to understand how that might help.

    “I am thinking the same thing,” Twilight agrees. “Just because we're willing to rehabilitate them, doesn't mean I'm also willing to risk the security of the rest of my citizens. Aside from keeping them trapped in stone, I fully intend to take all reasonable precautions and I want them all set up before we free them from stone.”

    “Do you really think we can do this, Twilight?” Applejack asks with doubt twinged with a bit of hope.

    “We should look into the history of all three first,” Starlight advises as she rubs the bottom of her chin with a hoof in a thoughtful pose. “Cozy is probably the easiest of the three to deal with in this regard. We just have to research where in Equestria she came from. She's young so her history is probably not too long or difficult to track down.

    “With the other two, however, we quickly run into monumental problems.

    “Lord Tirek is downright ancient. Older, even, than Princess Celestia or Princess Luna. Traces of his history probably have gone cold a long time ago. Most of that time he spent in Tartarus. That much we do know, but there is not much we can usefully glean from that.”

    Starlight looks at Twilight. “If you are really serious about redeeming Tirek, the best lead we have is to find his brother, Scorpan. Him, more than any other, might offer us valuable insight into Tirek's mind. Scorpan may also help us find a motive that will cause Tirek to listen, and it should also be very easy to convince Scorpan to help us redeem his brother. He tried to do that himself a long time ago. I'm sure he'd gladly welcome more allies to the cause.

    “As for how to find Scorpan, I suggest we ask Discord. Discord seemed to know a thing or two about Tirek's past. He may offer us valuable leads. Discord could even instantly teleport us to Scorpan directly, or vice versa . . . but something tells me that Discord won't make it that easy for us.”

    “These are great ideas!” Twilight says brightly. “Good thinking, Starlight!”

    Starlight gazes forward as she continues her thoughtful look. “With Queen Chrysalis, we have a different problem. She's not nearly as old as Lord Tirek. About three centuries seems to be a rough figure.

    “Her trail may not be as old, but the problem with her is her shapeshifting ability. Any time she didn't spend with the changeling hive is almost completely lost to us. Not even Thorax's pack knows much about her, and this is likely on purpose. Chrysalis was constantly paranoid, even with her own hive. It seems to me that she was always on her guard in case her hive ever betrayed her, which they did.

    “From what little we can gather about her, she was most likely a unicorn before her transformation into a changeling. That was the form she took the most whenever she disguised herself as a pony, probably because it is the one most familiar to her. She also knew better how to manipulate that breed more than the other two.

    “Also, we know she was way better at magic compared to nearly every other changeling in her hive. That is because she saw magic as a path to power, and that is a power she did not willingly share, even among her own kind. All the better to keep them in line.

    “Dark magic was likely involved to cause her initial transformation into a changeling, and from there she laid a clutch to spawn the others.

    “As for her initial motives for the transformation, it seems as if she was betrayed by somepony she once deeply cared about, and she despised love and friendship ever since except to feed upon it.

    “I also have a strong hunch that she was always arrogant, even as a former pony. We might want to look carefully among past unicorn nobles from around three centuries ago. That may provide us hints to her true origin story.

    “Of course, most of this is speculation. Queen Chrysalis's history is quite elusive, and it is likely she'd not be honest and/or forthcoming if we ask her directly. More than anyone else, she seems determined to bury her past because of shame? Humiliation? Anger? Bitterness? All of the above?”

    Starlight looks back at Twilight. “If you recall, I tried to reach a hoof out to her myself, attempting to convince her to change. She slapped my hoof away from her and swore vengeance instead.

    “Not an encouraging sign to be sure, but a lesson we should remember nonetheless. If you really wish to redeem her, expect similar resistance from her in the future, at least at first.”

    “I think humility might be the best path for her, regardless of her history,” Twilight suspects. “She doesn't trust others because she'd never put herself in anypony's mercy in the first place, but what if she had no choice and it turned out everypony is kind to her when they don't have to be?

    “It may take a while to thaw the ice around her heart, but we'll give it time. It takes however long it takes.

    “We can't trust her with power, obviously, at least not at first . . . but in time she may come to see the error of her ways and the advantages of Thorax's pack's way of living. There is always hope if we don't give up on them.

    “As the Princess of Friendship, it is my mission to spread friendship to anyone who needs it, and these three have needed it most desperately for a long time now.”

    “It kind of makes me wonder.” Starlight looks thoughtful. “King Sombra destroyed the Tree of Harmony when he attacked Equestria. Sure it's reborn, sort of, but it doesn't seem the same ever since. It's almost as if it forgot the knowledge it had before.

    “If King Sombra hadn't destroyed it, do you think the Cutie Map would have warned us of potential friendship problems between Cozy, Tirek, and Chrysalis?”

    I feel dizzy. So much of this information is going over my head, and I despise this fact.

    “It's hard to say right now,” Twilight laments.

    “What are your plans for Cozy anyhow?” Applejack asks which attracts my attention as well. That's probably why she refines her statement with her next sentence. “I mean, our Cozy. The pony Cozy. What's your plan for her?”

    “That depends on what her parents or family say on this matter, if we can find them,” Twilight answers. “If it turns out they are not available, like they aren't for this Cozy, then I'll follow my counterpart's heroic example and adopt Cozy Glow myself.”

    Everyone in the room is stunned at that announcement, including me.

    “Adopt Cozy Glow? That seems extreme even for you, Twilight,” Starlight says in astonishment.

    “It worked for my counterpart with her daughter,” Twilight returns. “You don't know this Cozy like I do. My counterpart showered this Cozy with love and affection, and she turned out way better in life than ours ever did. What if that was our Cozy's problem to begin with? What if she simply needed loving guidance to be a better pony?”

    Twilight looks forward blankly. “Back at Canterlot Garden, this Cozy accused me of not knowing a thing about her counterpart's history which caused her to be such a monster. Later on, it occurred to me that she's right. I don't know why our Cozy went mad with power but, if I learn the answer to that question, maybe I can help her. Maybe I can redeem her.”

    Talk-talk-TALK!

    I'll admit that you're good with pretty speeches that makes others feel all warm and fuzzy inside, Twilight Sparkle, but how good are you with actions? Until you can prove your words, you're just spouting a bunch of useless nonsense!

    Don't try to con a con, Twilight Sparkle! You're really not as good at it as you think, especially when compared to me!

    “Such nice, pretty words!” I spat acidly. “It makes me feel a cozy glow inside my chest. It almost makes one forget all the crimes you have done, but this one is kind of personal to me.

    “Don't think I have forgotten that you're holding me back against my will," I continue. “Deceive your 'friends' all you want, but you are not going to get me to drop my guard!

    “I see into your mind! You seek to turn me into stone as well, and you plan to tear my mother's love away from me. Well I WON'T LET YOU!” I screech.

    Twilight tilts her head at me as she asks, “Now how do you think I could possibly tear your mother's love away from you?”

    I shift my head back as I say, “Isn't it obvious? It's written all over your ugly little face! You seek to tell my mother about all the bad stuff my pony self did in this world. You wish to tell her not to trust me and that I'm unworthy of her love!”

    “Your mother already knows all of that,” Twilight informs me.

    My eye pupils shrink to the size of pins. Once again I am stunned, and I am not faking.

    “I know this because I'm the one who told her this,” Twilight goes on. “That happened shortly after her Spike died. Sunset Shimmer used her computer to share with me the tragic news, so I paid her a visit to offer my condolences.

    “While I was there, I happened to stumble upon a newspaper article that said something about you and your abusive parents.”

    “What?!” I ask with a tone thick with ice.

    “Your parents got arrested for acts of violence, and there were no relatives to take care of you, so you went to the orphanage. I am very concerned that I'll discover a similar pattern with the Cozy in our world.

    “Back then," Twilight continues. "I was stunned at this news I received in your world, and your mother noticed my reaction. She asked what was wrong.

    “Imagine, she just lost her long time friend, and then she asks me what was wrong! I couldn't believe the irony. I came there to comfort her!

    “But, since she asked, I told her everything. Everything I ever knew about you which, in hindsight, is much less than I previously thought.”

    Twilight looks to her side at nothing.

    “I told her about everything that happened with your pony self in Equestria and that she should be aware that a similar danger might rise in you as well.”

    Twilight looks back at me. “But where I saw only danger, she saw a lost child who desperately needed a good home with a warm and loving parent.”

    Twilight places a hoof to her chest as she says, “I was stunned! I asked her why she would even consider adopting a child who could turn out to be a vicious monster like the one in my world was.

    “Her reply was, 'Because, Twilight, unlike you, I almost became a monster too. In fact, I did for a short while. She was called Midnight Sparkle, and she was power-hungry for magic, but someone offered their hand to me in friendship and showed me there is a better way.

    “'What if that's all this Cozy needs too? What if that's all your Cozy ever needed as well?

    “'We may look and act very similar, Twilight, but I think our methods differ quite a bit. I'm a scientist at heart. Always have been and I always will be. I like to test my hypothesis before leaping to conclusions.

    “'So my mind is set. I'm going to adopt this child and shower her with all the love and attention that I think she needs. Moreover, I'll shower her with the affection that I think I need to express as well. I can think of no better way to honor Spike's memory than by being supportive and loyal to someone else.

    “'Then, instead of her growing up as a monster, she'll be a hero instead . . . just like me and my friends.'”

    Okay, this is getting to me hardcore for one very specific reason . . . it really does sound like my mother.

    Moreover, it also makes sense when I add up all the anomalies I detected about my mother in the past.

    For example, why the sudden interest in me? That came out of nowhere! Sure, I was desperate for that attention, but I didn't seriously expect to receive it. I was abandoned not long before that. I thought it was my fault. That I did something to be unworthy of love. That there is something inherently wrong with me. That I am some irredeemable monster.

    I close my eyes when I recall the first time she showed me to my bedroom.

    “Keep them closed!” my new mother instructed as she led me by the hand to somewhere. “No peeking! I'm warning you, I can see you.”

    “I'm not going to peek!” my eleven-year-old self insisted. “Please don't lead me into any walls or something. I'm trusting you. That does not come easy for me.”

    “Don't worry. We're almost there.”

    I heard a door open. I felt myself pulled through the threshold. There was a bit of a temperature difference. The air was a bit warmer. Also, there was a curious smell in the air. It was sort of like some kind of perfume. Bubble gum scent was the closest comparison I could make at the time.

    “Okay then . . . we're here! You can open your eyes now.”

    Finally!

    I opened my eyes, then I gasped in astonishment as I beheld my new room for the first time.

    “What do you think?” my mother asked in delight as she twirled happily to the cloudy-looking bed in the center of the room. She grasped one of its poles as she sat down on the corner of the bed. “Do you like it?” she pressed. “Be honest now. Miss Winda told me that you like childish and cutesy things, so I did my best to accommodate you with this. What do you think?”

    I was speechless! My wide eyes swept through the room in heavy shock, absorbing all the details I saw before me.

    “Everything you see here is all for you!” my mother told me cheerfully. “Everything, including me.”

    I focused on her.

    “Here.” She stood up while she pulled one of many pillows from the bed. This one was (and still is) shaped as a red heart symbol. It looked like the kind of gift one buys on Valentines Day. She approached me with it until she stood before me. She thrust the pillow to my chest. “Take it,” she commands softly. “It's all for you. You hold everything in your hands now, Cozy Glow. All that I am. All of my heart. Take it. I give it to you freely.”

    I numbly and obediently grasped the red velvet pillow. I squeezed it absently, then closed my eyes in pleasure.

    It's so fluffy and soft! I love it! I love it! I love it!

    Then I collapsed to my knees and bawled over my pillow.

    This reaction alarmed my new mother. She immediately knelt in front of me and asked in concern, “Honey, what's wrong?”

    “EVERYTHING!” I cried loudly at her. “The pillows, the blankets, the room, you . . . everything!

    “Why are you being so nice to me? What did I do to deserve this? What's in it for you?”

    “Your love, I hope,” my mother answered simply.

    I bawled even harder. I crouched low over my new heart pillow while I squeezed it tightly to my chest.

    I was no longer capable of talking at that moment.

    My new mother embraced me.

    “I know, Cozy, I know. Coming from your background, I know this is all going to take a lot of adjustment. For the both of us, actually. But we'll get through this . . . together. You and me.”

    Her embrace tightened around me, almost to the point of desperation, but she did not harm me. Mother could never harm me.

    “It doesn't matter what you think you deserve or not, my dear Cozy. This is your fate from now on. I give it to you of my own free will. This I promise!”

    With a shaking hand, I reached back to her.

    This felt too good to be true. This felt too likely that she'd fade away and I'd wake up from this wonderful dream.

    But if that really was a dream, I didn't ever want to wake up!

    I open my eyes slowly back in the present.

    It is true that my mother seemed unusually desperate to please me. If she was doing it in the hopes that I would avoid the fate of my pony self, as well as a fate she nearly succumbed to herself, then all of this almost adds up.

    Almost . . . except for one major flaw in Princess Twilight's story.

    My parents, as in my birth parents, have never abused me. In fact, I can't recall a single moment when they did something even close to such a thing, ever! They were literally perfect in every possible way.

    But, in a way, that was the precise problem. In addition, outside interference compounded this issue that drove my original parents away.

    Instead of them, it was I who was flawed. I was never good enough to justify their love. I suppose that was inevitable, for who can possibly compare to true perfection?

    This is why I struggle to become and remain a perfectionist. If I can become as perfect as my original parents were, then maybe my new mother won't see my flaws and abandon me as well. 

    I struggle with this every single day of my life. I need to at least appear to be a good girl in order to keep all that I've gained.

    Anger seeps deep in my soul. I am secretly livid with fury that Princess Twilight DARED to talk shit about my birth parents! She doesn't know how good they were to me, but I did not know how to properly play the game of affection back then. Because of that mistake, it cost me everything I had before. That is a mistake I am determined not to repeat.

    However, despite my fury, I have to play my hand carefully right now. I'm so close to check-mating this game. I can see it. I can feel it.

    “If everything you say is true, then prove it! Let me go home!” I demand. “Step aside and let me use the portal so I can return to where I belong.”

    “You can't use the portal,” Starlight Glimmer corrects. “It's keyed to only respond to unicorn magic, and even then . . . one has to know the right spell to operate it.”

    I feign a shocked expression, then look crestfallen. “Wow. You ponies really have thought of everything.”

    I glare at Twilight. “I guess you are holding all the keys to my fate, Twilight, so what will you do with me?

    “I dare you to show me your true colors! I dare you to reveal to all of your so-called 'friends' what you are really made of! Show me, and them, what you really planned for me all along.”

    My accusing tone causes Twilight to pretend to stiffen in pain, but a look of fake acceptance settles into her face a moment later.

    I know what is really going on here. Both of us are bluffing each other. The only question is, who will come out on top? She does have more pieces on the board than me for the moment, but her problem is she worked herself into a corner. In order to maintain that fake “friendly” persona that she has fooled everyone else with, she needs to pretend to be merciful.

    And that plays her right into my hands!

    “Very well, Cozy. If you wish to go home, we have no right to stop you,” she says.

    shadow queen advances from C-4 to C-6, check

    Last move. Make it count, Twilight!

    “Twilight, are you sure this is the right thing?” Applejack asks in doubt but she at least sounds hopeful. She's skeptical but she wants to believe that I can be ‘redeemed’. I think I'll need to give the apple farmer a little credit. Her caution is well warranted considering the history that she knows of, but her foolish hope is proving to be her undoing right now.

    I won't make that same mistake!

    Twilight merely nods in confirmation.

    Applejack sighs. “Alright. I'll trust ya. I don't trust Cozy, but I trust ya. You've never steered us wrong, Twilight.”

    Applejack approaches and finally unties the rope.

    It's about damn time, you filthy peasant!

    Of course, I'm one to talk right now. When I get back, I am in desperate need of a shower.

    And food.

    And sleep.

    And crying. Oh my god, there will be plenty of that tonight! This journey is so stressful! Productive, but still stressful.

    “Cozy, I want you to know something,” Twilight began, drawing my attention back to her. “You weren't some random name drawn from a hat. Your mother chose you for a very specific reason, and she has been nothing but proud of you ever since. I,” she placed a hoof to her chest, “was the one who was skeptical, but that is only because of what I went through in this dimension with our Cozy . . . but you have shown me the error of my ways as well.

    “Because of you, I have realized I made a grave mistake with one of my own pony citizens, and I'll correct that oversight very shortly.”

    Twilight places a hoof to my shoulder. I flinch at it, feeling like I'm being violated, but I grit my teeth and bear it . . . for now.

    “I may be the Princess of Friendship, but there are always more friendship lessons for me to learn,” she expresses to me warmly.

    Yeah. Keep telling yourself that, bitch! Maybe if you do it enough, you'll even deceive yourself.

    “Today, you have taught me a valuable lesson about love and forgiveness. I need to always remain vigilant to see the best in other creatures where nopony else does. This is why I have such a great track record of turning my enemies into friends, but I can always use a reminder that I need to improve that habit even more.

    “Thank you, Cozy, from the bottom of my heart. You've given me something today that I can never repay, but I'll do my best to make sure your counterpart's life benefits from this newfound wisdom. Her, Tirek, Chrysalis, and any other creature that is lost and needs our help.”

    “You're all talk, Twilight,” I say bitterly. “I'm still standing here in your world when I told you where I wanted to be. If you want to continue your conversation with me, do it in my room where I can at least feel safer.

    “Are you brave enough to step into my arena, Twilight?” I dare her.

    Also foolish enough?

    Twilight nods in acceptance. “Sure thing, Cozy Glow. Let's get you home and back to your mother.”

    Twilight turns to face her machine but, as soon as she makes a few steps towards it, Starlight places a hoof on her friend's chest to halt her. That causes me to focus on Starlight as well, a potential obstacle in my path.

    “Hold on, Twilight,” Starlight says in a cautious tone. “Something is not right here.”

    “What do you mean?” Twilight asks her purple friend innocently.

    “I believe we should really think this through,” Starlight advises. “Pony or not, this is Cozy Glow we're talking about. She's at least capable of being as devious as her pony self, and yet she's suddenly cooperative?

    “Something about this does not add up.” Starlight looks at her friend. “She's the one who kept suggesting, multiple times, that you take her home. The important question right now is . . . why?”

    I narrow my eyes at Starlight a bit, but the truth is I'm starting to respect her. Finally one pony in this room who is not a complete moron.

    Twilight spreads her wings a bit in offense as she says, “Because she's in an alien world, using an alien body, and surrounded by aliens who could potentially mistreat her. On top of that, she already is aware of what happened to her pony self. We told her that we plan to free her pony self soon, but she's got no proof of this.

    “She's just scared, Starlight. She just wants to go to the comfort of her own home and mother. Can you blame her, especially after everything she learned today?”

    Starlight squints as she says, “Normally I wouldn't blame her, but I have to factor in everything else I know about her.

    “Twilight, this one is actually good at deception. She's at least as good at lying as Applejack is at honesty, if not more so. On top of this, she's a calculating and manipulative genius. We fell for her tricks before and it put Equestria on its knees . . . twice! I think danger on that kind of scale warrants at least a little bit of caution on our part.”

    “Then what are you suggesting, Starlight? That we keep her here as our prisoner?” Twilight asks with rising fury in her voice.

    “Not forever!” Starlight strongly assures. “Just until we know it's safe to release her.

    “I think we should reverse our strategy. Instead of taking her home, I think we should bring her mother here to help console her, then we'll all talk about everything and put every card we have on the table in plain view of everypony. Complete transparency for all to make sure no wrong decision is made.”

    “Starlight, they have lives of their own to lead back home,” Twilight argues. “Keeping her here is already causing her to fail her duties both as a student and Student Council President. She not only has responsibilities to herself, but to others as well. Now you are asking to make the problem even worse by inviting the other me into this world? For how long? She has a job to do in her world as well, just as I do here in Equestria.”

    Starlight closes her eyes as she sighs for a second, then opens her eyes and says, “I know this situation is not entirely ideal, but it is an emergency. A lot might be riding on this one. We need to be careful and examine all of our options before we leap into action.

    “Look. I, of all ponies, would be the last one to argue against giving other former villains a chance to redeem themselves. I offered that myself to Chrysalis, and I talked you into giving Stygian a chance when even Starswirl rejected me. Don't go thinking that it was easy for me to stand up to either of you. He is a legend, and you are my dear friend.

    “I want to believe this Cozy has turned a new leaf. I really do, but one of her greatest talents is deception, Twilight. I just need to make sure we're not all being manipulated here. Just . . . give this a little bit of time to make sure everything will work out.

    “We won't do anything to harm her while she stays here. We'll even treat her as a valued guest! We'll show her Pinkie Pie's parties and pastries, and we'll teach her how to fly using those wings.” She looks at me and asks, “Doesn't that sound nice?”

    Actually, it does.

    Well played, Starlight Glimmer. Very well played. You've even got me tempted for a brief moment.

    Okay, that's it! Note to self: Find Starlight Glimmer's human counterpart. I don't care how long it takes or what I have to spend to do it. This girl is just too intelligent to be a useless resource. I have rarely encountered someone I actually respect on this level, so that is not someone I will soon ignore or forget.

    “Starlight, why should she trust us when we don't give her the benefit of the doubt? How would you feel if you were condemned to an alien world against your will? Would you really feel that much better if they promised you that you will be well treated when they have already broken their word?

    “I gave her my word that I'll take her home, and that's final!”

    “Twilight, please!” Starlight begs. “Please think this through! I'm warning you, you're about to make a big mistake!”

    “STARLIGHT GLIMMER!” Twilight's voice booms so loudly for a moment that I suspect all of Ponyville hears her. Standing at the epicenter of that sonic boom forces me to wince tightly.

    After Twilight says that, she closes her eyes, sighs, and looks down. She pauses for a moment like that, then looks back up at her friend as she speaks. “Starlight . . . you are one of my dearest friends. Trust me on this! Please . . . please don't make me pull rank on you!”

    Starlight squints her face in a painful wince, but her hoof slowly lowers from Twilight's chest.

    “Thank you, Starlight!” Twilight says to her gratefully before moving past the other purple mare.

    “Oh please, Cozy. Please.” Starlight Glimmer looks at me with eyes shining with tears due to the stress of her worry. “Please don't be lying to us! Not again! My friend is placing a lot of faith in you, so I am forced to as well. If you really are a good girl like she has been saying all along, then prove it to us. Validate our faith in you. If you do, then it will show us there is hope for your pony self as well.”

    I am indeed planning a betrayal at the moment, but the desperate and pleading look on Starlight's eyes actually succeeds to make me hesitate.

    Plus, the threat of them losing faith in my pony counterpart is also something to think about. Knowing her freedom is also at stake is establishing a consequence to my potential betrayal.

    Starlight didn't just succeed to make me feel guilty over my plans but also gave a valid reason why I should reconsider my actions.

    Cornered as she is, she still did everything she could to make sure their plans do not go awry with just a few simple but powerful words.

    Goddamn, she's good! I really need to get the human version of her in my pocket pronto!

    My eyes shift to look at Twilight as I watch her horn light up with a magenta glow. Similar magic is copied onto various parts of the machine. This starts a chain reaction which eventually leads to two probe things shooting energy at the mirror. When that happens, the mirror changes from a reflection to a magical portal of rippling light.

    I narrow my eyes slightly at the portal in smug victory.

    “There you go, Cozy. Portal open, just like I promised,” Twilight says to me happily. She stands before me. “I told you I keep my word. I want to show you that you can have faith in us, too.

    “I want no hard feelings between us. I never wanted to be our Cozy's enemy, and I certainly have no wish to become yours. That is antithetical to my nature as the Princess of Friendship.

    “I know your mother loves you dearly, and I'm starting to see why.

    “So, from now on, let's forge a new, prosperous, and bright future . . . together.”

    At the conclusion of that short speech, she offers a hoof to me. I still don't know what I should do with it. Hoof bump, maybe? Skeedaddle seemed confused when I did that to him.

    I look up at her eyes which are bright and shimmering with happiness and hope. I feel disgust to see it other than admitting that it is pretty good acting. A nine point five out of ten. If she hadn't made the mistake of insulting my birth parents, of whom I personally know and therefore have proof that her claims are false, then even I might have fallen for her act. It is just that good.

    I fake a worried but also hopeful look on my face as I shakily lift a hoof up in preparation to bump it with hers. Meanwhile she beames at me.

    Until I drop my act first by slapping her hoof away and giving a half-close eyes expression to her.

    “Go fuck yourself, Twilight!” I spat in her face. After that I lift up my left wing then chuck down one of Trixie's hidden smoke bombs I had tucked away all along.

    I have just a split second to absorb the shock of her expression before it's wiped away in a puff of blue smoke.

    Since everypony in the vicinity suddenly lost line of sight, I hope that's enough to prevent either a telekinetic or a rope lock on me.

    Just in case, I knew I quickly had to shift positions.

    The blue smoke also blinds me for a moment, but I remember where the portal is. It's straight behind Twilight.

    I leap up into the air and flap both wings down simultaneously in order to sort of simulate a double jump. This gets me over Twilight's body, although I'm uncertain by what margin. I then charge forward into a hard gallop.

    “Cozy, NO!” Twilight cries out, but it's too late for tears at this point.

    I charge through the portal.

    Checkmate, Twilight!




* * *



 


    As dizzy, tired, hungry, and flustered as I feel on the other side, I waste no time grabbing a nearby folding chair then use it to smash my mother's portal machine to pieces on the human side. I scream with all fury as I bash at it over and over again. Sparks and parts fly everywhere until I exhaust myself enough that I just can't move anymore, not to mention how out of breath I am.

    I collapse to my knees. I may be physically tired, but my mind is running a mile a minute despite my angry tears.

    Sparing a quick glance at myself, I notice my clothes are back on. For what it's worth, they are just as clean as they were before I stepped into the portal.

    More importantly, my locket is still here. With my human hands, I am able to open it much more easily. Seeing it establishes that it is, indeed, undamaged.

    I hug the locket to my chest. As I do so, I look at the wreck around me.

    There is no way I can hide any of this. My mother is going to know that somebody was down here, but she won't know who. All she'll know is it's someone with good hacking skills. She thinks I'm with another student, however, so that already exonerates me.

    I think this through.

    Best I can figure, my mom is going to think that the damage to her portal is probably a hate crime from those who fear the usage of magic and Horse-Land in general. There are plenty of narrow-minded bigots who have the motive to do so but, of those people, the ones who also have the means to get past all the security lockouts are somewhat thinner.

    I wish I could pin all the blame on Superintendent Neighsay, the lousy bastard, but something tells me he could too easily establish a solid alibi. It would take too much work to dismantle that. Besides, Neighsay as an expert hacker? That might be pushing the envelope of believability too much even for this crazy world.

    My best option is not to point the finger at anyone. Just leave this one as a mystery. Without any useful clues, they'll just keep chasing their tails forever, and I have my ways to clean up some of the mess as time goes on.

    I really hate to admit it, but my biggest problem now is Sunset Shimmer and her damn Horse-Land connected laptop. Even if I steal the computer itself, one touch from Shimmy while using her magic crystal could put all of my plans in shambles, and now I have even more skeletons to hide in my closet. I need to silence her for good in such a way that she can't threaten me anymore.

    I think the magical laptop's link to Horse-Land is temporarily cut off due to the damage to my mother's portal, but that's an easier obstacle to overcome compared to repairing the entire portal.

    Just to make sure that the portal remains down, I'll need to give it a quick inspection and remove any component in it that's obviously magical. Such a component is likely irreplaceable in this world. The only reason my mother gained it in the first place was by walking through the portal to Horse-Land in Canterlot High before shutting that portal down.

    Besides, with a magical component in my hands, I might find other ways to make it useful to me later on.

    I sigh.

    There's a lot to do. No rest for the wicked, I guess.

    It's time to accelerate my plans.
> Chapter Fifteen: Shadow Play, Part 1, The Villian
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Whew! Done with all of my homework for tonight, or at least my official student and Council President stuff.

    Looking at the clock on my computer, I realize I finish in two-hours and thirty-six minutes. Not too shabby, but it feels like I could have done better. Quality should not be rushed, however.

    It's so tiring to be a perfectionist.

    For a moment I take off my glasses so I can rub my face with both hands. After that, I lean forward, scoop up my cup of jasmine tea, stir and blow on it, but there is barely a need for it anymore. Only thirty percent of the liquid is left in the cup. Of that, it's pretty lukewarm.

    Well, here's a part of my night that I've been looking forward to all day. Where in the world is Starlight Glimmer? What have you been up to, Glimmy?

    I actually calculate less than a seventeen percent chance that I'd find anything too meaningful on her tonight, but the research I make might escalate those odds in the future. To start with, I put my glasses back on then I do a web search on her name alone.

    To my surprise, I got a hit.

    Actually, several.

    It seems this woman has been busy making a name for herself on several of her own web pages. I click on them and look up her picture just to verify if it is the same woman. Once I have it, I confirm it. Light purple skin, dark purple hair with teal blue streak running through her hair . . . that's Glimmy, alright, albeit the human version of her. Her hairstyle looks different though. More older and more like a matron.

    I actually find a great deal of information on her written by her and others who follow her social media. It seems as if she's a leader of something called, “The Equalists.”

    I am intrigued, so I read further in their brochure.

    

    “Are you tired of being stepped on? Does it seem like this world and all of its 'competition' is a rigged system designed to hold you back? Have you ever noticed that the gap between rich and poor just keeps getting wider and wider? Do you ever wonder why?

    “The Declaration of Independence of the US clearly states, 'We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.'

    “Those are certainly very pretty words, but in practice, not all are created equal. Some are born lucky among wealthy families.”

    

    I roll my eyes, thinking of my nemesis, Diamond.

    

    “Some are born poor. Some have physical or mental disabilities. Some have allergic reactions. Some are super quick or strong. Some are smart. Some are . . . well, a little on the slow side. Some barely live for only a few months.

    “This world is fraught with inequality, even within a country that should celebrate freedom, but freedom to do what? Freedom to squash other people's liberties? Freedom to look down upon and condemn others for their skin color, gender, religion, culture, social status, or simply because of some other inescapable detail.

    “Feminism, to name just one example among many, claims to espouse equality for all. They want equal pay and equal respect as women of the world and yet, at the same time, they look down upon anyone else that is even remotely different from them.

    “It is ever the creed of the hypocrite that shouts out, 'Equality for ALL, and damn anyone who says otherwise!'

    

    I squint one eye at the computer screen while thinking, “Okay. I'll bite. Where are you going with this, Glimmy? So far you sound like a Communist.”

    

    “The sad truth is, people, that equality for all does not seem to inherently be in our nature. From genetics to politics to religion to social economics to basic human rights . . .

    “Everywhere you look, someone is always looked down upon. Someone is always the 'other'. It has, and has always been, an 'Us vs Them' system.

    “Aren't you sick of it? Don't you wish there would be a place where everyone could live in TRUE equality? Haven't you ever wished that there was a place where there are no losers and instead everyone wins equally?

    “Well wish no more, because NOW THERE IS!

    “Come join us, the Equalists! Together, we will show you TRUE friendship for the very first time! Open your eyes and see the very best of human potential where we all share our individual talents and resources equally!

    “Remember, you can't have a nightmare if you never dream. Ego breeds conceit and the misery of all. REJECT the false ideals of society that place so much value on competition being the 'superior' way. We are capable of so much more compassion! We've got to share! We've got to care!

    “If any of this makes sense to you, please contact me, Starlight Glimmer, and TOGETHER we will show you mankind's TRUE potential.

    “What are you waiting for? You have nothing to lose other than your shackles.”



    I lean back in my seat with wide, astonished eyes.

    Okay . . . wow! This is . . . random.

    Okay. I take it all back. This woman isn't a Communist, she's a fricken Cult Leader!

    I purse my lips and place a finger on top of it.

    How did this happen? How did the calm, collected, insightful, intelligent, forward-thinking mare I met in Horse-Land turn out like this in my world?

    I shift my eyes to the left as I ponder this.

    The only thing I have ever heard about pony Starlight that comes close to explaining this is a mention about a troubled history for pony Starlight. I don't know what it is, but Starlight did something in her past that she later regretted. Supposedly Princess Twilight and her 'friends' helped Starlight see the 'error' of her ways. If this world's Starlight is any indication, then it hints at the troubled history of the other Starlight.

    I don't know how or why pony Starlight came to the attention of Princess Twilight and the others in Horse-Land, but in this world there is a very clearly defined reason. The reason my mother and all of her friends never met this version of Starlight is because she now lives in a very isolated town in the state of Maneesota.

    I skim more of the web information I have on display and discover that this yet unnamed town, quite likely on purpose, is a planned community from the ground up. It is populated by like-minded individuals who had gathered to construct a town far away from civilization on purpose. There are no railroads, major rivers, highways, or airports anywhere close to this town. These people value their privacy in order to protect their budding culture from external influence.

    All I could think about, after I read that, is how a scream in the dark would not be heard in such an isolated area.

    As I read further, I realize that the stance of this cult seems a bit similar to the Amish. They are not quite that religious, but they do seem to disfavor modern technology, claiming it is only a tool designed to induce further inequality among all and limit “TRUE” human potential, and yes . . . this web page uses that word a lot and in that context.

    Despite this, I am finding a lot of ways to contact Starlight Glimmer. Everything from phone numbers, threads on web pages, e-mail addresses. The works. This woman is trying to be very available digitally, and yet she's hard to meet in person.

    I grab a squishy ball on my desk and squeeze it several times between my fingers.

    How ironic. For a woman who claims that technology is evil, she sure has a lot of digital contact information. What is it? Do they share exactly one computer in their entire community? That's certainly one way to be equal.

    I'm having second thoughts about pulling this woman close to me as a resource. She seems downright nuts! I can't claim that my sanity is entirely there either, but this woman is certifiable for sure!

    I can sympathize with the frustration of inequality. I do. We all certainly feel the pain in many ways from time to time, but these measures seem quite extreme.

    I also can't help but feel like there might be a sinister agenda to this reality’s Starlight as well. There is just something about her smile in her profile picture I don't quite trust. Maybe it's because it's too similar to the fake smiles that I practice in the mirror almost every single day.

    Nevertheless, I am really intrigued by this situation! After I graduate from High School, I have got to pay this woman a visit face to face at least once. I have to find out just how far gone she is before I can cross her off entirelly.

    I sigh as I look straight up.

    Bummer. I guess this project will have to be on hold for a while longer. I wanted Starlight on my side until I found out what I'd get if I really tried.

    It also makes me wonder, how did both versions of these two Starlight's become this way?

    Oh well. Maybe I'll follow up on this later.

    I look ahead of me at the black flash drive Ghost gave me. My eyes twitch at it. Just the mere sight of the thing irritates me because of what is involved if I use it.

    It's not like me to attempt to avoid thinking about unpleasant thoughts, but this one is very personal to me.

    Actually, thinking about unpleasant thoughts seems to be contagious lately.

    I have seen Little Miss Prissy a bit more often lately. She finally showed up to a few of my Student Council meetings, but I could tell she was not all there in the head. I also noticed how Diamond and Silver were not speaking to each other, or at least not amicably. They barely even glanced at each other. They really were acting as if they had a fight.

    This has been going on for a few months now. That in itself is somewhat expected, even though I'm bothered by the lack of information as to why.

    What really gets to me lately is the fact that, whatever is wrong with Diamond, Sweetie Belle seems to be affected too.

    I've kept tabs on Sweetie ever since she started to investigate what was wrong with Diamond, and it seems she found something. Something big.

    Whatever it is, however, Sweetie is not texting anyone about it. She's being quiet with her new information, and she's totally acting spooked.

    I have a few classes with Sweetie Belle. It's enough to know what she's usually like, and she's changed lately. She changed sharply and severely.

    I reach forward to my keyboard and mouse. I use them to bring up a picture posted on a website which was made by the Cutie Mark Crusaders about seven years ago.  It used to be updated a lot, but lately it seems their activities have been waning some. Part of growing up, I guess.

    The newest picture at the top is the one that has my attention. Even then, it's seven months old. I click it anyway to see it full screen.

    In it, it has a picture of all of the original members in the Cutie Mark Crusaders club.

    Facing towards the screen, Sweetie Belle herself is on the far left. She is wearing a white dress with puffy purple shoulders. It's a pretty cute outfit, so I have no doubt that it must be designed by her sister, Rarity. That woman always did have an eye for flair.

    Sweetie Belle is strongly hugging the girl next to her, which is Scootaloo, but Sweetie Belle is facing towards the camera. Sweetie's mouth is hanging open with a great big smile plastered all over her face. Her two shades of light purple and darker purple hair hangs fairly long, about below her neck level, but it ends in curls near the tips below her neck and above her forehead.

    Scootaloo is the middle child between the three. She is the most boyish-looking girl among the three, and often was lately. It's almost as if she regrets being a girl.

    Scootaloo is wearing a bright orange sweat jacket and has her hands jammed hard into her pockets. Scootaloo's all purple hair is cut pretty short, boyish style, with a cowlick above her brow. The expression on her face appears annoyed. She's in the middle of rolling her eyes when the camera took the picture. She looks embarrassed to be caught in this “sappy” moment between her friends, but I can see the truth. Part of her was indeed embarrassed, but a much greater part, albeit a hidden part, loved the attention she got from her friends. She considered it too “uncool” to make it obvious, but the truth was she's desperate to receive this attention from her friends. As such, they are the most important people to her in the world.

    I can relate somewhat.

    The last one on the far right is Apple Bloom. She is hanging only one arm around Scootaloo's neck while the other hand is held up towards the camera. She's spreading two fingers, her pointing finger and middle finger specifically, apart to make a peace sign. Apple Bloom still has that childish looking red bow in her hair (again, I can relate) which ties it up into a single ponytail (how appropriate). She's wearing a simple yellow blouse shirt and blue jean pants on which is a bit faded and ripped in a few areas.

    They look so happy together. I know there is no such thing as friendship, but I'm aware that many people do believe in it. These three certainly do, and they look all the happier for it.

    I focus my attention on Sweetie Belle on the left.

    Now that is the look that I am used to seeing on Sweetie Belle. The kind of girl who gives life a great big hug while wearing a bright, happy smile.

    She is the kind of girl who usually is the first one to raise her hand in class whenever the teacher asks a question. Without permission, she cries out, “Ooo-ooo-ooo! I know! I know! Pick me! I know the answer!” She just can't wait to brag about how “smart” she is, and I do have to give her some credit . . . she usually does know some stuff, and her eagerness to share it is downright adorable.

    Personally, I especially love it when she gets the answer wrong on occasion. It does not happen frequently. Her typical statistics is about a twenty percent chance of error. Whenever she does get the answer wrong, her cheeks burn with embarrassment and she cringes in her seat, and yet she does not seem to have any regrets. She gives life her best shot then shrugs it off if she gets it wrong, grateful to have learned something anyway.

    I have to admit, that's a great attitude to have in life. In a way, I am jealous that she can handle her mistakes that casually.

    However, lately, it feels like Sweetie Belle has been replaced with a fake duplicate who does not know how to properly act like the “real” Sweetie Belle. This new version of her is quiet and sullen. She cringes and winces whenever the teacher calls upon her instead of eagerly offering the answer. She doodles in her notepad and looks very lost in thought. She looks very disturbed and unhappy.

    The most likely cause, from what I can tell, is she's worried about something. Very worried about something. I calculate a seventy-nine percent chance that it has something to do with Diamond Tiara. It is very unlikely to be a coincidence that Sweetie Belle turned one-eighty degrees on life shortly after she started investigating Little Miss Bitchy.

    What are you hiding, Sweetie Belle? What do you know?

    Whatever it is, she's going out of her way to tell nobody. She's not writing it down. She's not texting anyone about it. I even sifted through her private e-mails in secret. I found nothing that would explain this. She's taking no chances at being discovered, whatever it is.

    As far as I can tell, she's not even telling her closest friends or adults. She's keeping the secret totally to herself, and it's eating her alive. So much so that I actually am growing concerned for her.

    I'm not the only one to notice either. Her closest friends have noticed Sweetie's change in attitude. They also seem concerned. I calculate at least a fifty-seven percent chance that Apple Bloom has already asked about this issue at least once, and a sixty-eight percent chance that Scootaloo did the same. The reason I calculate higher odds for Scootaloo is, between Apple Bloom and Scootaloo, Scoots seems far more intrusive about her concerns.

    Not only that, but Scoots has been much more hostile to Silver Spoon and Diamond lately. I think that Scoots already has a suspect on who depressed one of her dearest “friends”, and that is a huge no-no to Scootaloo. When Scoots gets concerned, she shows it through her temper first and foremost.

    Apple Bloom appears more reserved and patient. She is concerned, but willing to wait till Sweetie Belle is ready to confess about this herself. Until then, Apple Bloom is trying her best to be an emotionally supportive friend without being too intrusive about it.

    Even the teachers at school have noticed Sweetie's sudden and severe change in attitude. I would not be surprised if they offered for her to see the counselor at least once, but I know she rejected it, if it was indeed offered. I know this because I have a hidden microphone in the counselor's office. I usually have it turned off to save battery, but lately I've been checking it just in case Sweetie shows up, and she didn't.

    Sweetie Belle is withdrawing from everything. She looks very flustered and scared for some reason.

    According to the pattern that I know about Diamond, Sweetie Belle is being blackmailed into doing or not doing something and she's very uncomfortable with that fact, but what exactly is it?

    Damn it! I have to know what she knows! Whatever it is, it is HUGE, and it has something to do with my primary nemesis, so this issue definitely has my undivided attention.

    Unfortunately, that's not been helpful lately, so it's time to try a more direct tactic.

    I reach forward and operate my computer to call up a secret and untraceable chat program. Within it, I sign up as my cracker identity, The Shadow Queen, and use it to contact Sweetie Belle's dear former boyfriend, Button Mash, then send him a message.



    The Shadow Queen: Wakey wakey, eggs n bakey. I got a mission for you!



    Button Mash does not respond right away. I keep my eye on the time. That's why I know he finally responded forty seconds later.



    Button: wat do YOU want



    As pleased to see me as ever, I see.



    The Shadow Queen: As I said, I got a new mission for you, but don't worry . . . you're going to love this one. I need you to get close to your old girlfriend again, Sweetie Belle. She knows something that I wish to know. FIND IT!



    I know Button is there, but he does not respond for thirty seconds. He hesitates, or is constantly rewriting his text. Considering how personal of a request this is for him, I am not surprised at the hesitation.



    Button: wat u want 2 no

    The Shadow Queen: That should be fairly obvious, isn't it? Surely you know that Sweetie hasn't been herself lately. She's all mopey and stuff.



    Ten second pause, then Button responds.

    

    Button: who the hell ARE u how do u no all this stuff bout our skol what's yer problem with us, anyway

    The Shadow Queen: That is not your concern, nor is it your mission. Just be a good little dogie and go “fetch” for your Majesty.

    

    Twelve second pause.



    Button: look, I don't mine if you ask ME 2 do stuff fo u well that's not true I bothered but i have 2 do it 2 protect my mother but i swear 2 GOD that i'll murder u if you DARE 2 harm sweetie



    I shudder.

    Ooo, I love it when he gets romantic.



    The Shadow Queen: Chill out, Romeo. I just want some information. I'll toss you a bone as well to help get you started. I know for a fact that Sweetie investigated something about Diamond Tiara, and I think she found out something. Something big. Sweetie has not been the same since.

    Button: Diamond why the hell would sweetie be konerned bout hat bully she's just a BITCH



    I roll my eyes, privately thinking that is a good question. Also, it's spelled “concerned”, you nitwit, not “konerned”. God, learn how to fucking spell!



    The Shadow Queen: The answer to that question is for her to know and for YOU to find out. Talk to her. Get chummy with her again. Draw out her secrets. Do whatever it takes to get her to talk.



    Button replies quickly this time, taking only four seconds.



    Button: as i said i don't mind if u git me 2 do stuff sortof but I don't wan sweetie involved with all this mess mess with me if u want 2 but leave sweeite {bell emoji} ALONE

    The Shadow Queen: I can't do that. She has information that I need. Information about Diamond Tiara, and that is certainly worth my attention.

    Button: so all this is about dimond, thats what this is all about



    I'll assume that is a question.



    The Shadow Queen: I suppose I can't deny that. Diamond Tiara has access to lots of resources. Not only is her family wealthy, but she is also the secretary of treasury to the school. If I can get my hands on her information, I might be able to learn something important about Cozy Glow too.



    I snicker privately.

    

    The Shadow Queen: This is all just a game for me, and I play to win. You'll play your part too, my little pawn. You have to. You know what I'd do if you refuse.

    Button: I WILL NOT HURT SWEETIE {bell emoji}, U HEARTLESS BITCH NO MATER WHAT U THREATEN ME WITH



    I blink in surprise. He knows what is at stake, and he doesn't care about it as much compared to his affection for Sweetie Belle? I thought they broke up a long time ago. If Button Mash is still willing to go that far for Sweetie, I have indeed miscalculated with this guy.

    In a way, I'm touched, too. I wonder what it would be like to have a “friend” that is loyal to me as well.



    The Shadow Queen: RELAX! I didn't ask you to HURT Sweetie Belle, I just want some information. In fact, you should be THANKING me! Somebody has ALREADY hurt Sweetie Belle.



    I send that message then start another right after.



    The Shadow Queen: Someone whose first name starts with “Diamond” and ends with “Bitch” . . . Um, excuse me. I meant “Tiara”.

    The Shadow Queen: That little priss has already hurt Sweetie. Why aren't you more upset at that instead?

    The Shadow Queen: I know you don't trust me, nor should you. You see me as a villain and I won't deny that, but even a villain does not always give bad advice.

    The Shadow Queen: Diamond Tiara has something that I want so she's in my way. That's a lucky thing for you because it means our causes are aligned. We want the same thing for different reasons.

    The Shadow Queen: I may be a villain, but YOU are not. If you help me, you'll be Sweetie Belle's hero, and you know what they say . . . the hero ALWAYS gets the girl in the end.

    The Shadow Queen: I know you still have feelings for her. Don't you DARE insult my intelligence by denying it! The question is, what are you going to do about it?

    The Shadow Queen: Are you going to let Diamond get away with hurting Sweetie?

    Button: okay, FINE u mad yer point i'll go talk 2 sweetie kina wanted to de hat anyway



    I wince at his text. It's like watching a chicken try to type.

    Maybe the problem is with me, though. Being a perfectionist, flaws tend to stand out to me more often.



    The Shadow Queen: Excellent! {devious smile emoji} Good boy! I'll give you a Scooby snack when your mission is complete.

    The Shadow Queen: Let it not be said that I am not a fair Queen. I will harshly punish failure, stupidity, and incompetence, but I also reward obedient minions who succeed with my orders.

    The Shadow Queen: Do this for me, and you'll get what you want. I promise you that. Sweetie Belle shall be yours.

    Button: i'm not doing this for ME u heartless bitch i'm doing this for sweetie {bell emoji} because I care for her, not that you kow what hat's lik

    Button: I my beforced 2 do this nohw butt I swearyou'll gt yours

    Button: karma is a bitch she'll bite u inthe hass u heartlessbitch juz u wait



    I roll my eyes and smile deviously. Button Mash seems like a small puppy to me who is barking as loudly as he can about the fact that he'll be a big dog someday when he grows up.

    In the meantime, his affection for Sweetie is cute!

    Maybe I have miscalculated his affection for Sweetie. The blackmail I already have on him over his mother might not be enough to keep him in line for much longer after all. I think I need something new to keep him under control.

    My sinister smile widens.

    And I have just the thing! He just revealed his weakness to me. I can threaten him with harming Sweetie Belle!

    It doesn't even have to be a real threat. If he cares enough about Sweetie, he won't dare to cross me if he thinks I have leverage over Sweetie, regardless if I actually do or not.
> Chapter Sixteen: Shadow Play, Part 2, Bullet Hell
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

I  am interrupted from my train of thought about Button with a message on  my computer that is, ironically, about Button Mash. It is a reminder  notice that he will be starting his live YouTube recording of himself doing a “Let's Play” of one of his favorite video games of late, a first-person shooter game called “Bullet Hell.” 

When I first heard that, I rolled my eyes at the title as I sarcastically thought to myself, “Ha-ha! Real clever, guys! I'm sure a bunch of religious groups were all up in arms about that title.” 

Button Mash is a moderately successful YouTuber  who I think may honestly have a shot doing this as a career. He has  enough subscribers on his channel, especially for his “Let's Play”  videos, to go professional with this path. He seems quite enthusiastic  about it, too. It's pretty much a solid fact that Button Mash loves playing video games, and he already is getting paid for it. 

When  I first learned about this, I was merely content to watch some of his  videos just to get the inside scoop on his thought process. After all,  the more I know him, the better I can manipulate him. 

It turns out that he actually did  something like this since he was a young kid, too. Back then he used to  play with Sweetie Belle off and on but, for some reason, she suddenly  stopped. I don't  know why she backed off and it seems a shame to me. I personally  shipped those two. They seemed like a cute couple together and they  really did have a lot of fun online. It didn't  matter if they played on the same team or were against each other. The  banter they made at each other was nothing short of adorable. 

But then I caught wind of the fact that Sunset Shimmer also is a YouTuber  hobbyist. She may not have as many subscribers as Button, and I really  doubt she'd be willing to go career with this (nor does she have to  considering her day job), but Sunset really seems to have a lot of fun  sharing her hobby with the rest of the world, and the world loves her  for it in return. She only started her channel four months ago. Since  then, her popularity skyrocketed from a few hundred subscribers to well  over a thousand. 

Then I found out a really interesting twist. Sunset Shimmer plays “Bullet Hell” too, and she's even on the same team as Button Mash, and yet neither of them are  aware of that. I am astonished that nobody in real life tipped either  of them off to that fact. It might be because no one in the local  vicinity happened to notice both of them doing the same thing. 

I  hope neither of them finds out, either. I have a feeling that certain  legal problems may come up if people found out they, a teacher and her  student at the same High School, are also socializing with each other  unknowingly online. 

Despite the fact that  they are also speaking with each other online, apparently their voice  recording software distorts their voices enough so that they don't  recognize each other. 

The longer this charade continues, the more I grow amused. 

Recently  I even started to participate in their little reindeer games, albeit a  little reluctantly. First-person shooter games are not really my thing.  Personally, I'm more into puzzle games, romance games, real-time  strategy games, fantasy MMORPG games (I always play the caster whenever I  can), and world-building games where I literally play God over anything  from a small civilization to entire worlds. Sim games also have a soft  spot in my heart. That's like a digital doll-house and a game where I can construct something and showcase my own creativity. 

But first-person shooters like “Bullet Hell” are  a total yawn fest for me. The only reason I even considered it was to  get in on the action between both Sunset Shimmer and Button Mash. 

As  an additional precaution, I also modulated my voice with a voice  synthesizer just to make sure neither of them recognized me in the game. 

While  normally the online antics of Button and Sunny merely amuse me, tonight  I feel especially curious about Button's mindset. I just got offline  with him as my Shadow Queen persona. He sounded angry but otherwise  cooperative in that conversation. I am wondering if a peek at his  personality online might provide me additional insight to see if he will  really cooperate with my request, and this time I can approach him as a  friend rather than an antagonist. He might reveal valuable insight to  me as my own “Bullet Hell” avatar. 

Sometimes I can draw in more information using honey rather than vinegar. 

I log onto the game and sign up as my own character I named Kitty Sparks. 

Kitty is a Katarian, or anime-style cat person,  in other words. She has heterochromia eyes. The left being purple and  the right being deep blue. Her hair is pink and short. She wears a white  blouse with a red vest. She wears red shorts and a large tool belt on  her hips. 

Kitty  is an Engineer type character rather than a straight shooter. Her role  is more to build stuff rather than going toe to toe with other fighter  type characters. She only has a few proficiency points in combat skills  so I dumped most of it in two weapon types, the shotgun and the sniper  rifle. I did this because I like the idea of being able to do heavy  damage with just a few shots. Running out of ammo is rarely an issue in “Bullet Hell”, hence the name, but it's just a personal preference of mine to do a lot with as few resources as possible. 

Instead  of combat skills, most of my character's talent points are devoted to  less direct combat skills like tool use, computer proficiency (just like  me in real life), building stuff like bombs, drones, and turrets. I  also built some customized gadgets like grenade launchers which shoot a  magnetic bomb that also has a camera on it to feed me visual information  before allowing me the option to blow up the camera. That same launcher  also has another mode to become a magnetic grapple hook with enough  metal cable to stretch up to fifty meters. 

I  may not really be into this game that much, but the archetype I picked  comes as close to being a “caster” type character as this game can get.  Plus, it compliments my personality as it offers a variety of options  for strategy, versatile construction, usage of gadgets, and  reconnaissance. 

As  it turns out, Button Mash and Sunset Shimmer not only ended up on the  same game, same hobby, and same server, but they also joined the same  guild, The Renegade Personal Gunners, or RPG for short (very cute). The RPG's got a pretty good thing going on their server. For example, they managed to build up their own base of operations and have it pretty well stocked. Supposedly they built this up over years of effort. I'll take their word for it. 

Considering  all that, I thought it would be hard to join up with a team that has  been working with each other for so long. Longer, even, than Sunset's  new YouTube channel, and that by far. This seemed like a close-knit social group so I was surprised how easily I was able to walk in on their operation. 

My  Engineer type character was part of it. They were desperate to have  more of those. They said they used to focus more on combat missions so,  at the time, they needed more gunner, tank, stealth, and medic type  characters. 

Now that they actually have  a base of operations to work with, however, it needs maintenance and  upgrades. They could hire NPC's for that, but a player engineer  character is far cheaper and more versatile. 

When I asked to join and they saw what I could do, they didn't  even care that I was a noob at this game. They were desperately  grateful that I tried to sign with them with an apparently unpopular  role that nobody else wanted to play. 

Back  then, I blinked to myself and thought, “Why? The Engineer is awesome if  you know how to properly allocate their talents skills and figure out  the best inventions to build!” 

But, I suppose, it is a more cerebral archetype than most players are comfortable with, but I'm perfectly fine with that. That just means I have less competition for my build. 

I guess I can see why they'd  think that way about the other roles in the game. Soldiers are the ones  on the front lines. When playing a video game where one can pretend to  be any role they want, players tend to favor the one that puts them in  the thick of the action, but where would they be without the tools and  supplies to back them up? An engineer's role may not be as glorious, but  it's no less important. 

Sometimes  I love being the center of attention, but there is something that feels  deviously sneaky about playing a background role that's  vital but often ignored. In that strategic position, I can pull the  strings from the shadows. Very few consciously realize that everything  is proceeding accordingly to my carefully calculated design. 

Or at least that is what I would have said if I really gave a damn about this game. 

Instead of that, I'm  honestly here to surreptitiously get closer to some of the guild's  players in order to have an advantage over them in real life, for that is the only game that truly matters in this world. 

While my character loads in the game, I connect my augmented reality glasses to my computer then open up two more virtual windows to the sides of my actual computer monitor. In one of them I bring up Sunset Shimmers YouTube channel (called Girl_Gamer_Rocks), and, in the other, I upload Button Mash's live channel (simply called Button Plays). 

Good. Now I can visually track them both while they play the game. At this point I don't even need them to speak. I can gauge their mood from their facial expressions alone. 

That is how I am quickly able to tell that Button Mash is in a very sour mood. He looks like he has a chip on his shoulder and he's ready to take it out on some bad guys online. 

Sunset Shimmer, on the other hand, seems to be in a remarkably good mood, as usual. 

“Good evening to you all, my loyal subscribers! This is Girl_Gamer_Rocks speaking, coming at you live on this wonderful medium that we call YouTube! You love me, and I love you, and we all know it so let's get that shit out of the way so we can start kicking some ass!” Sunset cries out excitedly, then compounds it by asking, “Are you all excited? Because I am excited! Excited to play some 'Bullet Hell'! Let the bullets fly!” 

“Hey there, my loyal subscribers. It's Button Mash here, coming at you live on Button Plays, and I'm about to log onto 'Bullet Hell' again.” Button pauses a moment as he starts sipping on a Slurpee  he has to his side. When he sets it down, he wipes his lips with the  back of his sleeve and eagerly picks up his controller high enough to  just barely be visible at the bottom edge of his camera, then he says,  “As some of you might be able to tell, I'm not exactly in the best mood  right now because of . . . some real life stuff.” 

I narrow my eyes at him and grow a sly look. 

“But none of that matters right now. You didn't come here to see me mope around, you came to see me play some video games, and that's exactly what you're going to get, so let's do this thing!” 

Button now looks focused. 

“In case any of you were worried that I did not come prepared for my night of bad-assary,” Sunset resumes on her channel, “behold. I got my ever critical Funyuns, some Cheetos,  a chocolate brownie made by a good friend of mine who happens to be a  skilled pastry chef, and my soda pop.” She shows each to the camera. “So I'm good to go.” 

Ooo! That reminds me! Maybe I should get more jasmine tea. 

Thanks, Sunset! 

I  get up and head into the kitchen to refill my cup of jasmine tea while  the game keeps loading during my absence. By the time I return, the game  says, “Hit any key to continue.” That's simple enough. I press “return” on the keyboard to get this party to start. 

As I anticipate, shortly after my character loads, I get my traditional “Hello Kitty” greeting from dozens of my guildmates. 

After that, however, it's business as usual. 

I  am told that there are several issues that need to be fixed in the  base, so I figuratively roll up my sleeves and start setting to work. 

But that isn't my real objective tonight. I am hoping to fish for more information from two of my guildmates about their mood, and one in particular. 

Button Mash has already surprised me earlier tonight. I'm not as confident I have a hold on him as much as I used to. I desire a way to open up that conversation without sounding too suspicious. 

In an attempt to fish for that information, I ask the whole guild how their day has gone. As they respond, I monitor Button's YouTube channel especially carefully. Sometimes what is not said can be just as important, if not more so, than what is said. 

I  tune the others out as I stare at Button's virtual screen. From it, I  see him frown at the camera just slightly, but he otherwise said  nothing. He just maintains this determined, focused look. It's a look of resolve, which I partially take as a positive sign. 

Button may not trust the one who assigned him his mission, but he clearly still cares for Sweetie Belle. 

Plus,  I might not be the only one on his mind right now. I calculate at least  a seventy-seven percent chance that his thoughts are circulating around  Diamond Tiara as well, and not in a good way. 

Well, good. As long as this puppy is obedient, I don't care how else he feels unless his emotions show signs of possible treachery. 

That's the real reason I signed on tonight, to confirm or deny those signs. 

I  get both surprised and very annoyed when our base suddenly gets  attacked because this is an interruption to my true mission. With a sigh  of frustration, I take my post at the computer monitoring station of  our base. From there, I can monitor everything from the multitude of  cameras we have set up throughout the base. I can also coordinate the  settings of the multitude of turrets we have set up. 

From this tactical position, I very quickly deduce that this is a player raid, not monster npcs. This attack is just too well organized to believe it's  some random programming. Whomever is attacking the base is sniping the  cameras we got from a distance while heavier vehicles pound at our front  gate. 

The  chatter from our own guild rises to hysterics. Most of the guild is  panicking under this unexpected assault. Of them, Sunny is the calmest.  She tries to reassure and organize her guildmates, but her voice got  mostly lost in the frequent shouting of her comm channels. 

I  growl in irritation as I lean back in my seat. I twist my wrist to  activate muscle tracking in my bracelet. Once that happens, I have a  virtual hand scroll fly across my computer screen. From there, I cut the  volume of the entire game down by fifty percent. 

Great! Just what I need! I'm busy gathering intel on a psych profile of one of my guildmates and some fucking pvp raiders attack our base. 

Rather well, I should add. 

I pull off my glasses then rub my face in frustration. 

I don't even care about the goddamn game! I just want to finish my mission so I can go to bed. It's right there behind me, all cozy and snuggly. Why did this have to happen tonight? 

I  look up at my computer screen as I replace my glasses and debate  something. It does not seem useful to complain or organize the other  guildmates while they are busy shouting at each other. 

I call up the guild spec window real quick and discover over half of my guildmates have been killed in action already. 

I  am studying that window for only four seconds when my character is  suddenly killed as well. Kitty falls on the ground. Closing the guild  spec window, I notice a new player wiggle into view. He, himself, is  clearly wearing a stealth suit generator. After he walks past my corpse,  he starts operating the controls of our central computer. 

Great! I'm dead! At least this means I don't have to do anything, nor can I until the next re-spawn timer at the conclusion of this match. 

I  minimize the gaming window for a moment as I open a music program on my  computer. From there, I play the device. Classical music fills my ears.  The music resumes from where I last left off. In particular, the best  of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, resuming with String Quartet No. 23 in F  major, K. 590: I. Allegro moderato. 

After that, I open up  a new window to a romance fanfic I've been reading online. I reach up  with my right hand that still has muscle tracking on it. A hand simple  rises to the center of the screen of the fanfic. I clench my hand which  makes my virtual hand do the same. I then pull the screen off my  computer monitor and float as a virtual screen which I can only see  because of my glasses. After I place the screen where I want it, I stab  into it with fingers together then spread them. That expands the size of  the virtual screen in order to make it easier to read. 

That  done, I pull my cup of jasmine tea close to me as I lean back in my  seat. I blow into the hot liquid while listening to classical music, the  desperate screams of my guildmates (albeit reduced to fifty percent  volume for them), and read the fanfic. I also twist my right wrist sharply to disable the muscle tracking function. 

Now this is the life! A good story, good music, and the screams of the dying. Heaven! 

Using my mouse, I bring up “Bullet Hell” from a minimized state but, by then, I'm barely interested in it. I'm dead in it anyway, so there's not much I can do to help. 

I  do, however, call up the guild specs window again. I watch with a bit  of fascination how quickly the rest of my guildmates are picked off one  by one. There is something surgically precise about this operation that I  can't help but admire. 

Whoever these guys are, they are good at this game. Military level good. This might actually be a training exercise for them for some real life spec operation, but it seems like severe overkill to attack a bunch of “civilian” targets like this. 

Oh well. 

I shrug carelessly, look back at the fanfic, and resume reading until the conclusion of the match.
> Chapter Seventeen: Shadow Play, Part 3, A Hero's Resolve
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“NO! NOOOOOOOOO! DAMN IT! DAMN IT ALL!” Button Mash rants as he pounds his desk which causes his camera to shake for a split second. He lowers his brown face and rubs it hard with both hands. “This can't be happening! Not today of all days!”

    “Everyone, just . . . calm down. We'll get through this,” Sunset Shimmer assures on guild voice chat and her live recording on youtube. Thanks to the latter, I can see her face as she speaks as well as Button Mash. For everyone else, I can't even see their in-game characters because we're all dead. Instead of that, I'm looking at a window that reports our statistical losses and the fact we can play again in another session in twenty-six minutes.

    Several guildmates on voice chat ask Sunny how they can get through this when they just lost their base. Even at this moment, those thieves are probably working their ill-gotten gains to help fortify their new position. Next time it won't be just them we'll have to deal with, but our own reprogrammed patrol droids as well.

    “Well, we can't just give up!” Sunny argues. Looking at her screen, I see pleading desperation in her eyes. “Come on, guys! I know it looks tough, but we can do this if we all stick together! We can get our stuff back. We can't just let them get away with this!”

    Some guildmates reply that these guys already have gotten away with it. Their strike plan was executed with military precision, and now they have even more resources to work with to fight the RPG's off.

    “Guys, I know it looks bad right now. Believe me, I noticed.” Sunny's eyes cast downward. Not only do I see her at the brink of despair, but she looks like she's about to break down and cry.

    Over resources in “Bullet Hell”? I can't believe it!

    “Is this really important to you, Sun Blaze?” I ask Sunny but refer to her by her in-game character. After all, I'm not supposed to know who she is in real life.

    Still looking downcast, I see Sunny shake her head. “Kitty,” she replies, “you don't understand. My guildmates and I have been working for many months to accumulate those resources. Almost a year.” She looks at the camera sadly. “We've poured countless hours working to build something. Something grand. Something we can be proud of and those assholes just swept in and took it all away from us!”

    “But isn't that how the game is supposed to be played?” I counter questioningly.

    Sunny shook her head a bit as she said, “It doesn't have to be. There are plenty of other ways to grow in 'Bullet Hell'. Plenty of dungeons or npc monsters we can farm, for example. For the most part, that’s what we did.

    “They didn't have to be jerks to us, they chose it, and dammit, I frickin hate bullies like that!” She places a hand on her chest. “I used to be a bully like that back in high school, and I hate myself for it too.

    “For me, this is just another sharp slap in the face. A reminder of who I used to be and what I chose to change from.

    “My friends in real life helped me to change and to see that there is a better way in life, and I'm grateful for it, but this . . .” She trails off. Tears rise in her eyes. “I just . . . I don't know what to do!”

    Watching Sunny in pain like this, it stung me. She is easily one of the most beautiful souls I have ever encountered. So deserving of joy and happiness, and she usually got it.

    But today, of all days, I am watching her break down. The Angel of Hope incarnate is breaking down in despair before my very eyes.

    “You're never going to bring me down!” I recall Sunny had once sang to the Sirens as she pointed at them boldly with a pointing finger while grasping a microphone with her other hand. “You're never going to break this part of me.”

    I wasn't there to personally witness that glorious moment, but I've been told about it, and I also saw some video footage of it when someone recorded it with a cellphone and zoomed up to Sunny in that heroic moment. Doing so made the footage blurry for a moment until the camera auto-adjusted.

    I actually believed her! I thought that nothing could break Sunny's indomitable spirit, so seeing it now felt inherently wrong. It felt silly and stupid to me that it would happen over “Bullet Hell”, of all things.

    Still . . . this shouldn't be the case at all.

    I may be a villain, and the world could use a few of those too in order to give the world a rude wake-up call, but Sunny is my counterpart. She isn't just a hero, she's a superhero.

    Moreover, she's one of my personal heroes. She's the pillar of strength that I've come to rely on. She's the reminder to me that women can be strong too and make a big difference in the world.

    Nothing should be able to break that down because she is far more than just a person. She's a symbol of hope to others, and a symbol needs to be held to higher standards. I know those standards are higher than what is humane, but a few people in this world really are strong enough to endure it.

    Until now. Watching Sunny break down like this, it feels like a part of my soul is breaking down too. This is a sharp reminder that we are all fallible, but I am still upset.

    These guys have hurt Sunny, one of the people I most dearly love and respect! My fury at this moment knows no bounds. I am a scorned woman!

    But then I look at my desk at the black flash drive Ghost gave me. Within it spells the doom of Sunset Shimmer. Her life is about to get so much worse because of it.

    I reach to grasp the flash drive. I squeeze it in my left fist while also drawing near my lips, almost as if I'm about to kiss my own fist. I realize that I am already beset with powerful regret. I wish so much that this resort isn't necessary.

    To add insult to injury, just before this device and I will cause the worst day in Sunny's life, she has to lose something else precious to her on top of that. Her life will go from horrible to even worse. If something like this can break her spirit, next time she really might kill herself out of sheer despair.

    The fist that clenches the flash drive hovers a mere two inches from my lips and shakes with intense emotion. During that time, I close my eyes and think back to all the reasons why Sunset Shimmer means so much to me.

    “Hey, everyone! I got a surprise for you!” Sunset Shimmer announced with her typical exuberance as she entered the classroom. On one of her hands, she was holding some kind of large box-shaped thing which was covered in cloth. She holds the box thing from a handle above it.

    “What's in the cloth, Professor?” excitedly asks one of the other girls in the classroom.

    “You're about to find out!” Sunny promised excitedly. “Everyone, behold!” Having set the box thing on her desk, Sunny grabs the cloth draped over it and whips it away. Doing so reveals some kind of pet carrier box. “It's a chinchilla! Take a look!”

    Several ooo's and ahhh's sweep through the classroom, especially by the other girls, but one teal skinned male student raised his hand. When Sunny nodded at him, he lowered his hand and asked in a tone of concern, “But, ah . . . Professor, are you even allowed to bring pets to school?”

    Sunny grinned as she said, “Are you kidding me? Your own principal used to sneak her dog onto campus in her backpack, plus Crystal Prep before this.

    “Don't worry! I signed all the necessary paperwork on this. I'm only bringing this little guy for educational purposes, and that is my job! I didn't become a professor in this school to hide knowledge from my students, I've come to expose you all to it.

    “So what are you all waiting for? Come!” She gestured for us all to approach. “Get out of your seats and come see this little guy! Don't be shy!”

    Some students in the class did hesitate, but they were the minority. Most of the students rushed to the front of the classroom as quickly as their legs could carry them. I was tempted to do so too, but thick crowds bothered me. I decided to wait a while for the crowd to thin out. I just hoped I’d get my chance to do it later on.

    “Come on, Cozy! Don't be shy!” Professor Sunny called out to me with a great big smile beaming on her face like the actual sun.

    For a moment I wondered why she singled me out until I looked around and noticed that I'm the only one still sitting at her desk.

    “There's plenty of room!” Sunny encouraged me. “Come stand next to me. I've made sure to save space for you.”

    I smile warmly at her as my heart melts with pleasure. This was just another reminder of what kind of person Sunset Shimmer was and is. She always goes the extra mile to support the knowledge and emotions of her students.

    I couldn’t let her down, so I didn't.

    I got off my seat and approached her gratefully. Giddy excitement also built up within me as I approached.

    Chinchilla's, I know, are super cute! I can't wait to see it! This time it isn't some stuffed doll on my bed either. This was a real, living, and breathing creature. My feminine fawning nature wanted to screech out in excitement!

    “There you go!” Sunny said with approval as I stood beside her.

    She kept her word. The space beside her was relatively clear. I didn't feel as agoraphobic next to her.

    In fact, while standing next to Sunny, I actually felt additionally safe and warm.

    As if sensing just a hint of my discomfort, Sunny pats me on the shoulder once to help reassure me, but then she turned her attention to the rest of her students.

    “Okay now, who here can tell me what chinchillas like to eat or what their native habitat is?”

    My mind now shifts to another awesome moment with Sunset Shimmer, this time in one of her science classes.

    “Okay,” Sunset Shimmer said as she put on plastic goggles to protect her eyes while she stood in front of us behind a laboratory table. “Show of hands. Who here has ever seen a levitating, floating flame before?”

    After she asked the question, I glanced back at the rest of my fellow students. They met her question with blank, livid stares that seemed to ask the question, “Is she serious? That sounds like magic.”

    Nobody raised their hands, not even me.

    Personally, I had a theory how the proposition Sunny made could be done, but I waited in order to gather more evidence.

    I, too, looked back at her and gave an unknowing shrug.

    Sunny smiled. “Well then, you're all in for a treat today. Watch this.”

    Sunny ignited one of the butane burners on the lavatory table. As expected, a flame lit up at the tip. After that, Sunny reached under the table and adjusted something we could not see. Most of my class gasped in astonishment as they saw the flame lift off from the tube below it.

    “Incredible, Professor!” one of the male students in my science class gasps.

    “Isn't that cool?” Sunny asked with a great big grin. “Or hot, I should say, in this case.

    “Now then . . . who here can tell me how this is happening? Anyone?”

    Again I paused for a moment to look around at the other students. Because of that, I noticed that a bunch of the other students were doing the same thing. Each of them were wondering who would be the first to be able to answer that question.

    Nobody responded, but several of them looked at me as the most likely student to be able to answer that question.

    “How about I give you all a hint?” Sunny offered. “Watch this.”

    I looked back to her at the front of the class. Before my eyes, she waved her hand back and forth below the floating flame. Each time she did it, the flame above seemed to leap down to the top of her hand for a split second until the path was clear again. She did this four times and the same results repeated.

    After that, she took a small paper towel and passed it under the floating flame a bit more slowly. When it passed under, the flame floated down to meet the paper towel. It only took a second for the paper towel to burst into flames, but when the paper towel passed away from the flame, the flame floated back up. The paper towel was still on fire until Sunny put it out with a bottle which sprayed water on the thing.

    I then swept another gaze at the rest of my fellow students. They were no less awed or mystified. It seemed up to me to bail them out again.

    I returned my attention to Sunny and raised my hand.

    Sunny's knowing grin increased as she watched me raise my hand. She looked around one more time at the rest of her students to see if anyone else raised their hands before looking back and nodding to me, knowing I would be the most likely student to supply the correct answer.

    When she nodded at me, I lowered my hand back to my desk and said, “You narrowed the tube inside the lighter, therefore increasing the pressure of the butane gas flow. With the gas flow accelerated, it sort of blows the flame further up the nozzle.”

    Sunset clapped in approval. “Very good, Cozy! Fifty points added to House Gryffindor!”

    I raised an eyebrow at Sunny.

    Gryffindor? If Hogwarts was real, then there is an eighty-nine percent chance that I'd probably be sorted into House Slytherin instead, but eh! Details! Whatever! I'll let that slide for now.

    I also grinned at the nerdy reference from Sunny.

    God, I love her so much!

    I placed my head between my hands and rested my elbows on my desk.

    I sighed pleasantly at the thought. I really would love to learn how to be a wizard like that. I could so easily imagine Sunny being one of their instructors, too. She's one of very few in our world who openly admitted that she has access to magic, and the phenomenon fascinates me to no end ever since I learned that it was real.

    Sunny was always like this. She showed us all how wonderful and exciting life could be. Even when she taught science class, she presented it with a sort of magical charm.

    And she did not stop there.

    Like this one other time she helped one of her classes to raise funds to see one of her favorite rock and roll bands live. She inspired them to get excited about the work necessary to accomplish their goals, and Sunny followed them every step of the way.

    Later on I also found out that she secretly funded over forty percent of the classes budget goal from her own pocket.

    So, in other words, the very paycheck she gained from teaching her students went right back to invest in her students because she believes and cares for us. To her, we are worth it!

    So, when we made it to that rock concert, my eyes teared up a bit as I saw Sunny screaming with excitement right alongside us while pumping her fists into the air one after another.

    I open my eyes to look at Sunny's virtual screen. My vision is a bit blurred from tears in my eyes. I see her looking down, so lost and defeated.

    It's wrong. It feels so wrong to see her like that.

    I look at my fist in front of my face and open my hand, once again revealing the black flash drive in the center of my sweaty palm.

    The instrument of her destruction.

    But . . . not today! I may be her enemy tomorrow, but tomorrow is not today! Today I am her ally, one-hundred percent!

    “Bullshit!” I growl determinedly which gathers the attention of the rest of my guildmates. I even visibly see both Sunny and Button Mash look back up at their individual cameras.

    “This is bullshit!” I say more determinedly. “And I'm not going to stand for it, and neither should all of you!”

    “Kitty, you don't know what we're up against,” one of my guildmates tells me sadly. “We just can't-”

    “BULLSHIT!” I scream back at him. “We are the Renegade Personal Gunners, and we've just been scorned! It's time to settle the score!

    “Everyone, get your metaphorical thumbs out of your asses and help me settle this! We're taking out base back from those who don't deserve it, and that's final!”

    “But-” one of them began.

    “NO BUTS!” I cry back at them. “Look, everyone, this isn't just a game anymore! This is personal. We've just been stepped on. Are you going to continue to take it lying down? Well I say HELL NO! We get back up and we get back into the FIGHT!

    “If they want a war, I'll give them one!

    “Look, people.” I fold my hands in front of my lips. “What we do tonight decides how we address the rest of our lives. We either take it lying down while undeserving bullies like them keep kicking us, or we stand up and say, 'NO! I'm not going to let you keep kicking me and my friends! I am going to stand up and do what's right.’

    “Awesome Lord,” I say, now talking directly to Button Mash by referring to him by his in-game character, “you have a girlfriend, right? Or you did once?”

    “Ah . . .” he looks caught off guard. “Have you seen my earlier videos?”

    “Wait, what?!' Sunny sounds and looks astonished. “You record these game plays too?”

    “No WAY!” Button exclaims. “You record these ‘Let's Plays’ too? That's totally awesome! We should exchange handles after this and totally subscribe to each other!”

    “Yeah, totally!” Sunset enthusiastically agrees. “I love to support my fellow youtubers.”    

    Oh boy! They are in for a surprise.

    “Awesome Lord, focus on me for a second and answer the question,” I insist in order to get back on track here. “Do you have a girlfriend? Someone you deeply care about?”

    I notice the reminder of this subject pains him, but he answers solemnly, “Yes, I do.”

    Okay. That answers that question for me. Now I know for sure he deeply still has feelings for Sweetie Belle. Good to know.

    “Then ask yourself this . . . what wouldn't you do to protect her?

    “Pretend that these guys just stepped all over her and they are about to kick her again! Are you going to rest on your ass and take it?”

    I visibly see intense resolve suddenly deepen in his eyes, and it is unlikely because of the game alone.

    “HELL NO!” Button cries out determinedly. “If ANYONE dares to harm a hair on my precious Sweet . . . uh! My former girlfriend then I'm going to do whatever it takes to defend her!

    “That's it! No more Mr. Nice Awesome Lord!” I see him raise his controller in front of him as he looks towards his screen with determination and resolve. “I'm taking this fight right up to them and shoving it down their throats! Who's with me?”

    A bunch of our guildmates cheer in agreement.

    “That's our motto for tonight, then,” I declare. “Tonight, we say HELL NO to injustice. HELL NO to permission to take our stuff away. HELL NO to allowing anyone or anything to harm are friends.” I look at Sunny sharply. “Because if anyone harms our friends . . . they are going to learn the hard way just how aggressively we'll fight to defend them!”

    Come on, Sunny! I may not believe in friendship, but you do! Ignite the fire back in your eyes and let's kick the crap out of these assholes together!

    Tonight, for once, I'm one-hundred percent on your side with this!

    One last fight. One last hurrah. One last victory . . . for you, Sunny.

    Tonight, for once, I'll play the role of hero with you. You more than deserve it.

    My eyes gleam in victory as I start to see it. The challenging grin that spreads across her lips and the brilliant fire that ignites in her eyes. It feels as glorious as watching the sun itself rise to greet a new dawn.

    “You're totally right, Kitty!” Sunset passionately agrees. “Let's all cry HELL NO to this BULLSHIT! It's time to take those jerks down a peg! Come on, everyone! Let's give them Bullet Hell!”

    There you are, Sunny! Now that's the passionate hero I like to see.

    I focus back on the screen of my computer. Eighteen minutes left until our next match. Eighteen minutes till we have our revenge!
> Chapter Eighteen: Shadow Play, Part 4, Give 'em Hell, Kitty!
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Given  the fact we only have a few minutes till our next shooting match, I  spend that time preparing as much as I can. Not only am I walking to the  kitchen to prepare another cup of jasmine tea, but I am also studying  technical data of “Bullet Hell” as much as I can. After all, I may not care much for the game itself, but I care for some of the people within it. 

Among  the things I study is statistical data of the components of the game.  For example, the exact rate of fire, range, accuracy, and bullets per  clip of individual guns in the game. I want to know all of this information to perfection so that I can accurately evaluate everything else in the game. It doesn't even matter if it's accurate to real life or not. It only matters how these things function within the game itself. 

I need to know this because, for the next few hours, that world is my world! It's my life on the line while I play within it, and I'm going to fight like hell to defend it! Not only that, but I am determined to make my new enemies suffer! They hurt Shimmy! They crossed the line, and now they are going to PAY! 

I somewhat absently listen to my other guildmates discuss strategy among themselves as I make my way to the kitchen. My augmented reality glasses are still linked to my computer, so it's transferring the sound data to my glasses which vibrate my eardrums so I can hear them. 

I don't entirely understand every word they are saying. Some of it seems like some kind of gaming lingo, particularly first-person shooter lingo. I think I gather the gist at least. For the moment, it's just comforting to know that they are all fired up about this. 

I’m  a leader when I need to be, so I just give them some encouragement.  That should have been Sunny's job, but her soul got wounded tonight. I  guess we're living in bizarro land where I, of all people, a supervillain, have to play the goddamn hero. 

Well fine! If that's what it takes to stick up for Sunset Shimmer's honor, then I’m game! 

I  am in the middle of opening the refrigerator when I hear them start  discussing war plans to invade their own base. It is at that point when I  finally interject. 

But first, I unmute my microphone on my glasses. 

“No! Don't!” I object. “Leave the base to me. I'll take care of it. I want all of you to focus on drawing their fire away from the base.” 

“What  are you talking about?” Sunset asks in a tone of objection. “You can't  handle that entire base by yourself! You'll need backup.” 

“You are  the backup!” I argue back to her. “Trust me, Sun Blaze, I can do this! I  won't need all of your backup within the base itself if I'm the only  one in there.” 

“That's crazy!” Button rejects. “You can't handle that entire place by yourself!” 

“I  helped to design and build it, remember?” I remind the guild. “I know  that place inside and out. I know where its strengths and weaknesses  are. These jerks may have our base for now, but they don't know it like we do. Not yet. I'll use that ignorance against them! 

“Trust me on this, I know strategy. This is my bread and butter in real life. I just need you all to-” 

“Cozy? Who are you talking to?” my mother asks behind me. 

OH SHIT! Did my guildies overhear that? 

“Ah . . . I have to go for a minute,” I tell my guildmates. “Don't worry. I'll be there at the start of the match.” 

I  mute my end of the conversation as I turn to face my mother. I am now  holding a plastic jar full of more of my tea as well, and I close the  refrigerator door with a gentle backwards kick to it. 

“I  was talking to others on the phone,” I explain to my mom as I briefly  point at my glasses. “Or rather some people I know online.” 

“Oh!” My mother blinks and smiles at me. “Talking to a new group of friends? How wonderful! I'm so happy for you, Cozy! Look at you! Making new friends already.” 

“Um,  actually . . .” I trail off for a moment as I focus on pouring my tea  into my cup. I resume speaking when I cap the bottle again and set it  down on the kitchen table. While I speak, I also lift the cup near my  lips. “. . . some of those I'm talking to I know from school. We're all working on a project together. A very important project.” 

“Oh.” My mother looks a bit disappointed, but still very happy overall. “Well, that's good too, I guess. 

“Just remember, lights out at ten.” 

My  mother is about to leave until I call out to her. “Wait, mother! Um,”  she pauses and looks back at me. “That might not be enough time. I'm working on something very important with them and it has to be done tonight. Can I please stay up a little longer and help them finish it?” 

My  mother looks reluctant to accept that. “Honey, you stay awake too long  as it is. You burn yourself out with all that extra work you do. You  need your rest! It's very important to a growing girl. Do you want me to recite all the medical reasons for it?” 

“No! I don't  need a lecture tonight. What I need is your understanding and approval.  Those friends of mine online are counting on me for something very important. Something that means so much to them. I can't let them down, Mother! They need me to support them on this! 

“Please, just for tonight, I need more time!” 

Please, Mother! For once, I'm not doing this for myself. 

My mother sighs as she looks down, then smiles up at me a bit. “Okay. If it's that important to you and them, you may have one more hour, but I mean it this time! Lights out at eleven. Okay? You have school tomorrow so this is as far as I'll negotiate.” 

“Eleven?” I look cornerwise up as I do some mental calculations. A full match in “Bullet Hell”  is only an hour longer than that. I should be able to finish my mission  objectives within that time, so I look back and nod in agreement.  “Sure, Mom. I think I can do that. Lights out at eleven. I promise.” 

My  mother smiles at me more widely, then approaches me in order to kiss me  on the forehead. When she finishes, her head backs up enough to tell me  while she gently strokes one of my cheeks with a thumb, “I love you so  much. You know that, don't you Honey?” 

“How  can I forget? You remind me very often.” I lean forward and embrace my  mother in a warm hug. “Thanks, Mom. I need to hear this as much as you  need to tell me. I love you too.” 

She  hugs me in return, then pats my back seconds before pulling away. As  she walks away, she says to me, “Goodnight, Honey. Sleep tight. Don't let the bed bugs bite. I wish you pleasant dreams, same as always.” 

“Thanks, Mom. You too.” 

I wait till I hear the door to her bedroom shut before I unmute my end of the conversation. 

“Okay, I'm back. Listen to me very carefully, because here's what's going down.” 




* * * 



 


AzuraKeres has done it. My guild mate has taken out the last guard tower with a rocket launcher. 

“Dang it!” AzuraKeres  curses in our guild comm channel as we all race swiftly to the mining  camp. “It doesn't feel right to blow up our own guard towers just to  permit us to approach our mining camp.” 

“Some pawns are necessary to sacrifice in order to get to the enemy’s king,” I tell my guild grimly. Meanwhile I am engaging the game with my full VR headset and gloves. I'm not holding back this time. For the next hour and a half (at most, then bedtime), I am completely immersed in this game. 

“Let's hope they take the bait,” another one of my guildmates, Sniper 49'er, said with worry. 

“They'll come,” I assure my guildmates. “ETA eighteen minutes before they show up. Make this time count, people.” 

“Well the good news is we know where the patrol routes of our own battle droids,” Sun Blaze put in. “Let's take 'em out, people, but first . . . Kitty, you got the gate?” 

“Actually, I got the gate,” AzuraKeres  assures before tossing a couple of EMP bombs at one section of our  hovering lightning gate which is normally designed to keep wild monsters  out. When the bombs go off, a certain section of the camp is  temporarily vulnerable to penetration until that section resets on the  next game. 

“They'll notice that, too,” Button Mash promises on his YouTube channel. He has a focused look on his face as he's working his video game controller. “When they see that this section of the gate is down, they'll know we've penetrated it.” 

“That's  the point,” I tell him back as I activate a holographic screen from the  computer gauntlet on my right arm. “According to my drone high above,  all of our patrol droids are in their standard positions. As I  suspected, they didn't have time to reprogram their routes. I figured they wouldn't since this area is a low priority target compared to our base. 

“Now that we've gained their attention, however, they might pilot a few remotely.” 

“Can you jam their signal from here?” Sun Blaze checks. 

I shake my head. “Negative. Not from here. 

“However, there is a communications bunker within this camp where I can set up a jamming signal. Once it's  in place, they won't be able to communicate to their comrades back at  our base, if any, nor will they be able to assume direct control of our  droids. Instead, the droids will be stuck on their default programming,  which keeps them predictable. 

“I'm sending you all the coordinates to the bunker right now.” 

“That communications bunker should be our first target,” came the low growled, grim tone of our munitions officer, Bad Dragon. “That bunker will be very defensible. I say we take it first and set up from there.” 

“Agreed,” Sun Blaze concurred. “Let's move, people!” 

“While you all do that, I'll set up cameras around the perimeter,” I tell my guildmates. 

“You  got enough on your hands to worry about,” Button says. “Go ahead and  set up those cameras then get into position for the iron claw. It should  show up in five minutes, and you can't miss it! 

“Meanwhile, leave the rest of it to us!” 

“In  fact, I want you to hang back entirely until we clear some of the  patrol droids and make our way to the communications bunker,” Sun Blaze  orders. “Keep giving us a tactical report on their position by  monitoring them with your hover drone. With that birds-eye view, we can  monitor the whole battlefield. We don't want any unexpected surprises just in case they have reprogrammed them or assume direct control. Until we set up that jamming signal, we're vulnerable on that front.” 

“Roger,” I agree. 

I wait as the rest of my guildmates proceed in. I grin to myself as I notice their focused and highly motivated attitude. 

As  I expect, they make short work of our own droids. They shoot the droids  up one by one as they strategically make their way into the mining  camp. They use every cover and trick at their disposal to take out these  pawns. 

Privately, I am aware that this part of the mission is  the easy part, but I feel satisfaction to note that we suffer no  casualties or waste no resources during this phase of our operation. 

Meanwhile I kept reporting to them the positions of the patrol droids. 

As  I anticipate, the droids start to gather at the last known position  where any of the other droids spot a hostile target. Since this behavior  is predictable, my guild uses it to their advantage to bait our droids  into various traps, such as landmines. 

After  all, we know how far those droids can shoot, what they shoot with, how  fast they can travel, and how much damage they can sustain before they  cease to function in this round of the game. 

I  do not hesitate to make my way into the camp the moment my guildmates  arrive at the communications bunker, not to mention the fact that there  are no threats left to attack me anymore unless I get into range of one  of the auto-turrets at each of the remaining three guard towers left  within the mining camp. 

To  navigate my way through camp more swiftly, I activate my hover skates  in my shoes. With them, I swiftly skate my way through the camp. While I  do so, I use my modified grenade launcher to shoot a bunch of bombs  with cameras on them at a total of eighteen strategic locations  throughout the camp. 

Once  they are in place, I skate my way to the communications bunker. I  deactivate my skates the moment I cross the threshold into the bunker. 

“Two  minutes until the iron claw shows up!” Button reports with worry when I  show up. “Do you still have time to set up the jamming device?” 

“I  have about twenty seconds to spare,” I tell him casually as I pass my  guildmates. I waste no time heading to the communications workstation. I  start setting up some gadgets there that will help me modify them. 

“I'll soon send you all a specialized signal that you can use to cut through the jamming interference,” I tell my guildmates. 

“Wait!” I see Button Mash grin on his YouTube screen. “Are you telling me that, when we activate this, we'll be able to use com signals with each other but they can't?” 

“Precisely,” I confirm. 

“All RIGHT!” Button cheers. “Man, I have really underestimated the engineer archetype. The way you play it, you make the class look awesome!” 

“I make everything look awesome when I put in a serious effort,” I return to him. 

Button blinks. “Wait. You didn't before?” 

“Not really. This game is not my cup of tea, but I do care for some of the players in this game,” I tell him. 

“Huh.” Button shifts his head back. “Which of us do you mean?” 

“And . . . done!” I report. “Jamming signal ready. Now all I have to do is push this button.” 

“Wait!” Sun Blaze commands. I look at her live YouTube channel. I see Sunny wearing a devious grin. “They don't know that we have this set up, do they? Then let's wait until they get here so they can't plan on it.” 

I have my character stand up straight as I say, “My thoughts exactly. I was just about to suggest that myself.” 

“Get going!” Sun Blaze orders me. “You got about forty-five seconds until the iron claw shows up.” 

“Right. I'm going.” I head for the door. 

“Good luck, Kitty Sparks!” Sniper 49'er cheers for me. “We're all counting on you.” 

“It is a very unorthodox plan,” the grim tone of Bad Dragon says while he sharpens his hunting knife as he sits on a barstool. 

“Which means that they won't  count on it either,” I tell him in return as I swiftly make my way  outside on hover skates. “A good strategist is all about making  unexpected moves to outmaneuver our opponents.” 

“I'll  take your word for it,” Bad Dragon says dismissively. “In the meantime,  leave the rest of them to us. When they show up, it's time for a little  payback!” 

“HURRAH!” almost all of my guildmates agree simultaneously. 

I skate sideways  in order to slide to a stop, then deactivate my hover skates. I  suddenly pull out my sniper rifle which inwardly causes me to roll my  eyes because of this video game’s logic. I aim it northwest from my  position in an attempt to locate my target. When I find it, I zoom the digital camera on my gun up to it in order to measure its exact distance. 

In my tiny screen on my gun, I see a giant hovering iron claw approaching my position rapidly. 

Right on cue, like clockwork. 

I know this droid isn't a threat to me. It has no guns, but it does have quite a bit of armor instead. I know that its only purpose is to gather mining ore in this camp and deliver it back to our base. This time, however, I know it's going to deliver something extra. 

I  put away my gun which vanishes back into intangible, video game code.  In the process, the whole gun gets surrounded by a green grid pattern  just before it vanishes. In its place, I pull out my modified grenade  launcher and wait. 

As expected, the iron claw flies down a reddish hole which glows with the heat of lava down below. There is no way I'd survive down there, but the claw can temporarily as long as it does not fly too close to the heat source. It's not programmed for that anyway. Instead, it pinches the iron bowl on a mining cart then takes off with it. 

When  it passes me on its way up out of the hole, I aim my grenade launcher  at it and shoot a magnetic grapple at the iron claw. When it connects, I  press another button on my gun to hoist me up to it. 

“Good luck out there!” Sniper 49'er calls to me as he peeks out one of the bunker windows, watching me take off with the claw. “Give 'em Hell, Kitty!” 

A bunch of my other guildmates join in a similar chant. 

As I fly off, I pass Sniper 49'er a two-finger salute while I cling on to my magnetic cable gun with my other hand. 

Hoisting  myself up to the claw itself, I plant my feet on it and do the reverse  of the hover function of my shoes which is a magnetic lock. Between that  and my gun, my position on this thing is pretty secure. 

I just hope these thieves don't  think to check the iron claw delivering ore to their recently  ill-gotten base and/or shoot me out of the sky. That would indeed put a  severe damper on my plans. 

Thanks to the fully interactive VR headset I am wearing, I can actually feel  the wind on my face as the claw I ride rapidly flies off to our base.  It accelerates to the maximum speed of two-hundred and forty miles per  hour. The landscape around me passes quickly at that speed. 

I  barely have time to notice an iron transport shoot by me. I whip my  head back to see it vanish over the horizon in about twenty seconds. 

“Guys,  I just passed an iron shuttle transporter,” I report to my guildmates.  “They'll arrive at the camp in about three minutes.” 

“Roger.  We're still setting up over here,” Sun Blaze reports. “We're a little  behind schedule. We might need to make a few adjustments to our plan.” 

“You say that as if it's unusual,” Button says with an amused snicker. 

“What's your ETA to the base, Kitty?” Sun Blaze asks, ignoring Button's comment for the moment. 

“I can tell you the exact  time of arrival,” I say as I look where I am going again. “The extra  passenger on this claw won't affect its velocity. I should arrive at the  base in exactly two minutes and twenty-eight seconds.” 

“Then  she'll arrive at our base before the enemy gets to this camp,” another  of our guildmates, Destiny Wind, said. “Does that affect our plans?” 

“Not  by much,” I say back to Destiny. “I'll need a little time anyway to  sneak into position, but I won't do too much until I know they’re  distracted. I estimate a sixty-seven percent chance that the majority of them are heading to the camp right now. If true, you guys will have to deal with the bulk of them.” 

“Which  is exactly the plan!” Sun Blaze says. “As long as they are here dealing  with us, there is that much fewer for you to deal with.	 

“Don't worry, Kitty. We'll hold their attention and the line.” 

“Roger,” I acknowledge. “I think I see our base cresting on the horizon right now.” 

There is not much I can do for my guildmates from here other than monitor the eighteen key positions around the mining camp unless  either my cameras get spotted and shot or I blow them up myself. I had  already scattered eighteen smaller windows spread around my head with  sixty percent transparency. Using them, I can quickly monitor all  eighteen cameras. 

To  my relief, I am met with no opposition to my arrival at the base. A  hatch opens on the roof. The iron claw descends from above with its  cargo. 

Just before I reverse my position  so I face outwardly on top of the very slanted iron claw, I shoot a  camera bomb onto the iron claw. As I pass through the opening of the  roof, I quickly detach my magnetic grapple on the claw itself then aim  it at a horizontal I beam along the roof. When my grapple connects, I  have my shoes detach themselves  from the iron claw while simultaneously having my cable in my gun wind  itself back up. That pulls me along. This eventually allows me to meet  the I-beam along the ceiling. 

Upon arrival, I aim my magnetic/hover shoes at the I-beam from the underside. When my shoes lock onto the bottom side of the I-beam, I detach my magnetic grapple. It coils all the way into my gun. 

After that, I carefully make my way through the base by walking upside down under the I-beam. I detach one magnetic shoe at a time as I take a step. I have to have that step lock in place before taking another step. 

Rinse, and repeat. 

It's a slow pace, but steady and sneaky. 

From the ceiling, I look “above” me which is actually the rest of the base below. From there, I do a visual scan of the base. 

I notice two other enemy player characters patrolling around here, but I know that there are a bunch of positions I can't monitor from up here. 

Still, it gives me a general layout. 

To  get a better one, I activate my holographic computer gauntlet and  activate my drone. For the next five minutes, I carefully and stealthily  scan the rest of our stolen base. 

During that time, I hear that my guildmates are met with opposition at the mining camp. 

So far, so good. 

My  guildmates apparently had enough time to set up a decent defensive  perimeter. The enemy players, I know, cut into our base with almost  military-like precision but, at the time, I figure that came after a  while of reconnaissance. This time the enemy players are heading in more  blindly. 

I  calculate that it will take them at least twenty minutes before they  start getting serious with their attacks against my guildmates. Until  then, I think they'll test my allies’  defenses and do everything they can to gather information, but good  luck doing that while they can't use their comm channels with each  other. 

Thanks  to the jam signal I set up at the base, the enemy will have to  physically shout at each other face to face, resort to sign language, or  Morse code flashes. If these guys are as professional as I think they are, they might be capable of that. 

While  I keep scanning the base with my drone, I occasionally have it pause  and hover somewhere as I update my guildmates about the enemies’  position back at the camp, according to the visual images I receive from  my eighteen cameras set up there. Normally I can only monitor one  screen at a time using the interface of “Bullet Hell”  itself, but I'm working with additional hardware that's capable of  other functions the game does not provide on its own, like the ability  to monitor as many virtual windows as I want. 

Sometimes my guildmates even probe me about that, wondering themselves how I am able to expertly monitor so many positions simultaneously. In response, I merely grin. I'll keep that secret to myself. 

After five minutes, I've done a thorough scan of the base. Enough to determine that there are only four enemy players here. That means the other twelve are probably at the mining camp. 

As time goes on, I gradually confirm that as I spot them on one of my many cameras at the camp. 

Of them, the one that worries me the most is the stealth enemy. 

After  I think that, I finally spot the stealth guy approaching my allies’  position. In particular, he is approaching the forward line which is  guarded by three of my guildmates; AzuraKeres, Sniper 49'er, and Bad Dragon. 

I  studied the specs of the game before playing this session. Because of  that, I know for a fact that the stealth generator has a maximum output  of fifteen seconds of stealth time unless it's interrupted by an attack. Once it discharges, that player will need a minute and a half for the generator to recharge, and that's  assuming that player put maximum talent points to upgrade that ability.  There are other related abilities such as causing more damage upon  striking from stealth. I can assume this player is no noob, so he  probably put his talent points in the most optimal settings. 

I have to help my team! 

“Azura,  Sniper, Dragon, listen to me very carefully!” I say to those players.  “When I say go, I need you to drop a shield grenade and a stun grenade at the same time! After that, I need you to retreat to the north behind you as fast as you can.” 

“What? A shield and stun grenade? Won't those cancel each other out?” Sniper asks. 

“Also, the alley to the north of us is a dead end,” Azura reports. “If we retreat that way-” 

“There  is no time to argue!” I tell them insistently without making too much  noise from where I am. “Trust me on this. Do this when I say go.” 

Sniper  sighs then looks at his companions while he keeps up occasional cover  fire towards the enemy across the street. “Think we should trust the  noob?” 

“She hasn't let us down so far,” Dragon notes. “I'm in.” 

“Me too,” Azura agrees. 

“I hope she knows what she's doing,” Sniper says nervously. “Otherwise it's game over for us, man. Game over!” 

Meanwhile I am counting down the seconds. 

I  watched as the stealth guy activated his stealth field generator  earlier and I know he has fifteen seconds to use it at most. Most likely  he's sneaking close to my companions to drop a grenade of his own at them, but two can play the hot potato game! 

“Alright . . . now! Go!” I command my companions. 

Fortunately, they obey. 

I  observe them through one of my cameras as they drop both grenades on  their former position. The shield grenade activates the moment it hits  the ground. It creates a temporary fifteen-foot radius hemisphere of  force that repels most bullets, but it will only be active for ten  seconds. 

The stun grenade, on the other hand, I know has about a six second delay before setting off. 

When the shield grenade is in place, my allies  book it hard to the north as I previously instructed. I grin in  satisfaction when I see the stealth enemy suddenly appear where they  took off from, bewildered at what might have tipped his enemies off to  his approach. 

But things get worse for him. Now that my allies have retreated and the rest of our enemies can't  fire upon them because the energy shield is in the way, they abandon  their own cover in order to chase after my allies. They know, just as I  do, the only way they can continue to fire upon my allies is to  physically charge right through the energy barrier. 

The stealth guy had only a moment to notice that there was not one, but two  grenades dropped to the ground. He then looks at his own companions and  widens his eyes in shock. He raises his hand to object to their  approach, but it's too late. They leap through the bullet shield and land at my companions’ former position. 

Which ends up catching all three of them in the blast radius of the stun grenade. 

“Okay, turn about and blast them now!” I command my companions. 

Bewildered but cooperative, my allies turn about  and start shooting at our three enemy players. For six seconds, they  are completely unable to move, and their current position offers them no  cover at all. 

The energy shield would have offered them cover, but that got fried by the stun grenade as well, just as I had planned. 

Which  makes them easy pickings for my allies. Before the duration of the stun  is up, my allies manage to mow down all three enemy players. 

“Oh WOW! That was awesome!” Sniper 49'er exclaims wildly. 

“Well done, Kitty,” Dragon compliments me far more calmly than his excited companion. 

I release a sigh of relief. 

With  those three enemy players down, I recalculate our success in my head.  Chess pieces move frantically across the board with three crucial enemy  pieces knocked out for the rest of the game. 

The  stealth guy used to be my most worrisome opponent because he was a wild  card. He could have been a game-changer at any moment without us seeing  it coming. Unless they have another player with the stealth archetype,  that keeps the rest of our opponents more observable and manageable. 

Even  if they can be seen, the other enemy players can be difficult to take  down for other reasons, but at least this reduces the chances of  unwelcome surprises. It's very hard to calculate around totally unknown variables. 

“I  believe you guys can take it from here. I need to concentrate on my own  mission now,” I tell my allies. “But if I see anything else worthy to  report, I'll let you all know.” 

“You've  given us a solid lead,” Bad Dragon says as he and his companions return  to their original positions. He also kicks one of the enemy corpses  hard once. “Remember, we're just a distraction. You are our winning play.” 

“Copy that. Over and out,” I tell them then focus back on my local mission. 




* * * 



 


Good! I'm in place. From this high perch, I pull out my sniper rifle and zoom up to the main control console of the base. 

This is where I encounter the first true hitch of my mission. 

Unexpectedly,  nobody is at the control console of this base! I had calculated a less  than eighteen percent chance of that happening, and it fucking happened! 

Damn it! This is not good. I need someone to operate it and show me the new password. 

For a brief moment  I contemplate how I could use the turret I secretly dropped in one of  the rooms of the base, but quickly dismiss it. For it to be of maximum  effectiveness, I need to operate this control console. They surely  changed the password, so I need a way around it. 

Then I recall something. 

Setting  my rifle down for now, I activate my holographic display screen on my  computer gauntlet and recall the camera I set up on the iron claw. To my  relief, I discover that it's still in the base, but it's about to be deployed again to retrieve more ore. 

This also plays to my advantage. 

I do some quick mathematical equations in my head with an emphasis in geometry. I got one bomb on that iron claw and it's not going to take it out. That claw is too well fortified. In fact, it's meant to be unbeatable by the players under most circumstances, barring unusual and overwhelming ingenuity. 

However, that's not necessarily the case with other things the claw flies past which might happen  to be in the blast radius of my bomb, and I also happen to know the  trajectory the iron claw will take when it leaves the base. Does it pass  anything important along its way out? 

I smile deviously. 

Yes. There is one target that might get their attention. 

I  look back at the screen showing the view of the camera I have equipped  on the iron claw. This affords me a limited perspective, but it's enough to get the general layout of where it's at. Since I also know where it's  programmed to go (because I designed that program), I know what it will  pass along its way out and I also know when it will pass those things.  The visual feedback I am getting is actually just to double-check. 

I wait for the right moment, then detonate the bomb on the iron claw. Doing so also destroys my hidden camera on it. 

As I anticipate, the bomb barely does anything to the iron claw itself. It just wobbles it for a moment but then it continues on its merry way. 

However,  the support beams nearby are not so lucky. It collapses which starts a  cascade effect. Ultimately two rooms collapse because of the damage. 

That's more of a mess for me to clean up later, obviously, but it brings me a few steps closer to checkmate in this game. 

After this is done, I pick up my sniper rifle again and wait. 

And wait. 

And wait. 

While  I wait, I absently listen to the comm reports of my comrades. Because  of that, I learn that six of my companions are now down, and only five  of theirs. Our own damn reprogrammed droids are what is giving our  opponents the edge in this fight, but I plan to alleviate that little  problem soon. 

Morale  of my comrades is holding, but clearly being tested. They are not  letting their losses distract them from their duties. They notice their  problems, and it does frazzle them some but, for the most part, they remain focused and determined, at least for the moment. 

Meanwhile I keep my silence so I don't give away my position. I don't  even glance at my cameras I have posted at the camp, which is reduced  to eleven. The enemy spotted some of them and shot them from a distance. 

Come on you dumb motherfucker! Where are you? 

Finally my prize arrives, the enemy engineer. 

It's  about damn time! I just blew up two rooms in this base almost three  minutes ago, thereby proving that some threat has infiltrated the base  itself. Did he just casually stroll his way to the very room where he  could have checked on the video footage of what happened all along? 

Balls of steel, that guy! Remind me not to play chicken with him! 

Even now, he's only casually strolling up to the computer console. It's as if he does not have a care in the world, which comes off as douche and arrogant to me. 

But whatever! At least he's finally doing what I want him to do. 

I zoom carefully to the keyboard he's  about to use. As his fingers reach for it, I press “record” on another  program I have that is monitoring what I see in the game. He enters the  password as planned. 

After he enters the password, I wait for one  more thing. I have a hidden walkie-talkie taped under the keyboard. I  both listen and record his conversation with some of his other  guildmates. 

While  that is going on, I have a voice synthesizer program on my computer  analyze his vocal patterns so it can mimic him later. This is definitely not a standard feature of the game but rather a separate program I have running to the side. 

As a cracker, there are many tools that I require for my profession, after all. 

I have to  wait until the program has analyzed his voice enough to fake it. I  figure I need to wait until it has at least an eighty percent match. 

While  he operates the control console, I double-check the video footage I  just recorded. After replaying it three times, I think I have the new  password memorized. 

It feels like a long time  but I manage to succeed with that mission in only thirty-nine seconds.  After that time, my voice synthesizer program figures it can match his  voice with eighty-nine percent accuracy. 

Great! And now you are no longer of use to me. 

Bleed, motherfucker! 

I shoot this guy twice in the back. I could have done a headshot and taken him out immediately, but there is a strategic reason I want him to suffer a little longer. 

Those weren't ordinary bullets I fired into him. Those are toxic, radioactive bullets. For up to five minutes, he'd  be constantly taking damage over time as long as those bullets are in  him. Individually the damage from each bullet is not too severe, but the  problem is that they stack with each other. 

However, I happen to know that there is a potential gadget that engineers could build that might not only heal them over time, but cure them of a condition like this. It is called “Medical Injector”. In its basic form, it's  just a medical syringe, but this class can invent an injection gun to  fire these medical “bullets” up to eighty yards. Since over  seventy-seven percent of all players with this class tend to favor that  gadget (not my statistic this time, I looked that one up online), I  thought it was likely that this player has this as well, and I just gave him an incentive to use it. 

As  I predict, he frantically summons his Medical Injector gun and aims it  at himself. Before he pulls the trigger, however, I pull mine first. I  ended his miserable life with a clean headshot this time, even though he  attempts to scramble away fast. 

However,  since I know from experience players can still view anything around  their corpse, or view from the perspective of surviving ally players, I  know it's not safe to approach him just yet. If I do, he can report that to his allies on his own guild com channel. 

Fortunately for me, I have prepared for this in advance. 

I  de-summon my sniper rifle and call up my holographic screen again. I  use it to navigate my drone that I had hidden within the room. The  camera on the drone is useless right now because it is covered up with a  blanket, but I can remotely pilot it from here since I can see it with  my own eyes. 

Doing so, I drape the blanket over my enemy’s corpse. Now, if he looks around, he'll see nothing but the darkness of the blanket. Maybe he saw my drone for a split second as well. 

Now  the situation is safer to approach without handing over additional  information to my opponents. They will likely know that somebody is here  because the engineer got shot a few moments ago then got covered by a  blanket, but they’ll know little else. 

The more I blind my opponents to further information, the better. 

I  summon my grappling/grenade launcher, aim it at the ceiling, and fire.  Once the magnetic grapple is in place, I swing across the room Tarzan  style except I adjust my height in mid-swing to make sure I land safely  in front of the control console. From here, I skate over to his corpse  after I peel the walkie-talkie from under the keyboard. I place the  walkie-talkie next to his head while also proceeding to steal his  Medical Injection gun. 

This is no substitute for a true Medic class, but it helps keep us on our feet. I figure I’ll hold on to this just in case I need it later. 

I don't  say a word to him. I just turn on the walkie-talkie. On it, I have it  blare a digital screech just like those ancient dial-up modems used to  make, and I deliberately have the volume set to maximum. My intent is to  blow out his ear canal, thereby forcing him to either take off his  headset or mute the volume of the game in order to protect himself. 

Either way, I don't want him to eavesdrop on what I'm about to do. 

I skate back to the control console and slide to a stop in front of it. 

black queen advances to g-five 

Okay! Time to start the next phase of my operation. 

I hum happily to myself as I type up the new password to the computer system, and voilà. I'm in. 

I  lean forward and speak into a microphone on the computer console  except, instead of my own voice, I play a voice synthesized message I  typed up which my computer translates to mimic this guy's voice. 

“Intruder  in room I-9. Repeat, intruder in room I-9. Get your lazy buns in order  and get rid of this annoying pest before she wrecks up the place and  gives me more work.” 

After  that, I call up the many monitors within the base to see if anyone  takes the bait. I know there are three more enemy players in here who  can. 

I am delighted to notice that two took the bait. By the looks of them, they are a standard gunner archetype and a medic. 

I lean forward and practically salivate over the controls. 

Oh,  this is perfect! The stealth guy is down and so is the engineer. Once  the medic goes down, the rest of these guys will have nowhere to go but  down in resources over the course of this particular game session. Any structural or personal injuries they rack up will be much harder to recover from. 

That's it! Into my web, you stupid hicks! 

As I have anticipated, the gunner charges into the room first. The medic pauses a moment until his companion gives him the all clear. Once he does, the medic enters as well. 

“Welcome  to your doom!” I say with grandiosity. I lift a finger above a button  on the console while they explore the apparently empty room in  confusion. “From Hell's Heart, I stab at thee!” 

I stab my finger down on the button. 

The door to the room they are in closes and locks. 

“Night-night,” I bid then press another button. The lights in the room go out. 

Next,  I redirect my attention back to the holographic panel on my computer  gauntlet. I use it to activate my hidden turret in the room with them. 

Unlike them, however, my turret is equipped with an infrared camera. 

The turret locks on to the two heat signatures within the room. I program the turret to prioritize the medic first. He'd go down faster anyway, and I don't wish to give them an opportunity to recover later. 

I  enable the microphone equipped in the room just so I can savor their  screams of pain and panic. While that happens, I also enable more  classical music on my own computer. I sway fingers in the air as if I am  a musical conductor while the slaughter starts and continues. 

They can't even see the turret. They don't  know what is firing at them. All they can see is occasional flashes in  the dark. Even if they fired back, the turret is equipped with a  forward-facing shield. Only an extremely precise shot at the right spot  would disable my machine in one shot. Good luck with that in the dark! 

Sigh. 

Too bad it's over so soon. 

Oh well. Time for me to reprogram the targeting parameters of some droids out at the mining camp. 




* * * 



 


This is it. Only two chess pieces are left on the board, which automatically upgrades both of us to Kings.  My guildmates had to blow themselves up just to get to the rest of this  guy’s team, but at least they were successful. As soon as either me or  Barbossa4188 goes down, the game is over. 

Since my guildmates could do nothing else, they are watching my match through my character's eyes. 

“You got this, Kitty!” Sun Blaze encourages me. “One last opponent. Give him hell!” 

“An  opponent that is wearing a T-16 Assault Annihilator Mech-Suit,” Bad  Dragon observes. “Do you know how much those things cost in-game? Over  forty billion credits! That thing is a raid gear mech suit.” 

Because he said that, I start looking up the stats of the T-16 Assault Annihilator Mech-Suit online. 

“Standard  bullets aren't going to cut it through those shields,” Bad Dragon warns  me. “You either need lots of explosives, or continuous auto-fire from  multiple sources.” 

“Sounds to me like that's as close to an end game boss as a player can get,” noted Destiny Wind. 

Bad Dragon sighs, then said, “Pretty much, yeah.” 

I notice something interesting while I read up on the suit. 

“Wait  a second!” I say in a tone of objection. “It says that the T-16 Assault  Annihilator Mech-Suit can't be used in standard player vs player  matches, nor tournament matches. This thing is designed exclusively for raid content.” 

“What?!” Bad Dragon exclaims. “Let me see the URL link for that info.” 

“Here you go.” I send the info to all of my guildmates. I wait a few minutes as they look it up. 

“What the hell?” Sniper 49'er asks in confusion. “If that's true then . . . how can this thing possibly be here?” 

“He's cheating, that's what!” Button Mash declares. “Damn it! That bastard is a dirty rotten cheater!” 

“What?! How can he get away with that?” Sun Blaze wonders. 

Hearing  that gives me an idea. I start looking up more information on  Barbossa4188. While I do, I ask, “Sun Blaze, Awesome Lord, didn't you  say that both of you record these fights on live YouTube channels?” 

“Yeah,” Button concurs. 

“What of it?” Sun Blaze asks. 

“I  still think you two should have asked our permission before recording  our matches and posting them online,” Destiny Wind complains a bit. 

“Nothing is stopping you from doing the same to me, dude,” Button said back to Destiny Wind with a smirk. 

“Good!” I say. “I want you both to record what I'm about to do. I'll do the same from my own end here.” 

“Why? What are you about to do?” Sun Blaze inquires with worry. 

“Just record it. I got a plan,” I say back. 

“You haven't let us down so far,” Bad Dragon remarks. 

“Brains vs brawn,” AzuraKeres notes with interest. “How fitting.” 

“Okay. Everyone ready? Here goes,” I say. I get multiple affirmations from several of my guildmates. 

I  shoot my magnetic grapple onto the ceiling then swing down from my high  perch. Along my way down, I drop my turret, which I retrieved earlier,  on the ground which is unfolded from a suitcase. Once it unfolds, it  locks onto the man wearing a ten-foot-tall mech suit and fires  continuously. 

While that happens, I summon my uzi machine gun on auto-fire as I swing by the man. I'm  not too proficient with this gun, but it does the job. I study the  guy's shield rating carefully as I pass it. Between both my gun and my  turrets constant fire, I notice that my tactics barely scratch those  shields. It also regenerates far too fast to be threatened by anything I  am doing right now, which is precisely why this suit is illegal in regular player matches. 

It's scary to think that the kinds of challenges this suit is  designed for can dish out enough punishment to challenge players  despite this level of preparation, although it is still supposed to give  those players a decent edge. After all, a forty billion credit war-mech  isn't meant to be some pushover. It's meant to be the key to help raid players prepare for endgame content. 

The  right arm of this player's war mech suit is, in fact, a giant gun. He  fires an auto barrage of shots that explode with every single shot. A  trail of explosions races after me as I swing across the room. It would  take only one of those shots to blow out most of my life bar, perhaps even only a single well placed shot. 

As  I meet up with the ground, I skate around this sucker as fast as I can.  To make it faster, I retract my magnetic cable from above. 

I was planning on aiming it at another object ahead of me, but Barbarossa changes his tactics. He aims his gun ahead of my path so that I meet up with the barrage of explosions. 

Widening  my eyes, I deactivate my hover skates but, since I have built up too  much momentum, my feet trip on the ground the moment they touch the  floor. I tumble my way painfully to safe cover, but a few of the  explosions outer blast radius still damages me. 

“KITTY, ARE YOU ALRIGHT?!” Sun Blaze screeches with worry. 

“I  will be,” I answer as I inject myself with my stolen Medical Injection  gun. When it enters my system, my health bar starts to climb back up  over time. 

Since I have too much cover, Barbarossa redirects his fire at my turret with casual impunity and blows it up in seconds. 

“Slippery little cat, ain’tcha?” my opponent taunts me. “Here, kitty-kitty-kitty-kitty! I got some nice treats for ya!” 

“Guys, did you get that footage? Did you record it?” I ask my guildmates, and two in particular. 

“I did,” Button confirms, “but what exactly do you want me to do with it?” 

“Send it to the following address,” I command then send them an e-mail link. 

“Ah . . . what's this?” Button asks in confusion. 

“That  is an inbox for the development team of this game,” I tell him. “If you  send the footage you gained to that box, it will prove to them that  this player is cheating.” 

“And thereby get this player banned permanently!” Sunset exclaims on her YouTube channel. “Kitty, you're a genius!” 

“However,” Bad Dragon brings up a note of caution, “that's not going to take effect during this particular match.” 

“Win  or lose, this player is going down for good!” Sunset promises. “Even if  we lose our base, these guys are going to lose a whole lot more. That one suit costs more than everything we ever built up in our base.” 

“An eye for an eye,” Bad Dragon realizes. “I like it.” 

“Guys, there is  one way I can take him down during this match,” I inform them.  “However, it's going to cause a lot of damage to our base. Whatever is  left, however, will be ours to keep.” 

My guild debates this for a moment among themselves, then they give me a general consensus of approval. 

Accepting  the majority vote, I launch my grapple to a curved hallway leading out  of this room. As the cable retracts, I activate my hover skates again. 

As I predict, a trail of explosions follows my wake. 

When  I near my own grapple, I detach it and retract it the rest of the way  to my launcher. I use my momentum to carry me up and along the curved  wall. I skate along the wall for a few seconds then curve back down to  the ground. By then my enemy no longer has line of sight to me. Also,  his bulky machine means he can't chase after me effectively. 

Once  I am out of sight, I summon my drone again. While it hovers beside me, I  tape the walkie-talkie I got earlier to it. Once that is done, I skate  away while I creep my drone back the way I came from but never within  sight of my opponent. 

“That's  one fancy suit you got there,” I tell my opponent through the  walkie-talkie taped to my drone. “I didn't know those things were legal  in player matches.” 

“Where there is a will, there is a way,” my opponent tells me while I'm still busy tracking down more information on this guy in real life. 

He fires a few shots in my drone's direction. As a result, I have it fly back a bit to avoid damage. 

“Say, you really are a girl, ain’tcha?” my opponent notes, likely drawing that conclusion from the sound of my voice. Despite the fact that  I am indeed using a voice synthesizer to disguise my voice in-game,  he’s not wrong about my true gender in this particular case. 

“Yer not just some dude wearing a chick's avatar, you truly are a girl in real life,” he goes on. “Don't get much of those out on these parts, and say . . . ya got a pur-ty little mouth on you, little missy. I can't wait to suck on it!” He makes a smacking sound for a moment. 

“Gah!” Sunset says with a tight wince of disgust on her channel. “What a total sleazeball!” 

However,  instead of being disgusted, I am amused because I realize disgust was  exactly the reaction my opponent was hoping for. He hoped that would  provoke me into making a mistake, maybe charge straight at him in one  last heroic blaze of glory. 

He's trying to bait me, but I am too smart to fall for it. 

Instead of taking the bait, I say nothing to prove how immune to his comments I am. 

But  inwardly I think, “So . . . you fancy yourself as an antagonist, eh?  Maybe even a downright villain with your fancy suit that you cheated to  get into this match, but guess what buster . . . you just met a supervillain today. If my pony counterpart can bring an entire world to its knees twice, imagine what I'll do to you!” 

“So I guess it's a stalemate, then?” I ask back through my walkie-talkie. Right after saying that, I play an audio recording of my uzi going off. I also have my drone flash a strobe effect that simulates the flashes of gunfire. 

This is another reason I used the uzi earlier even though I knew it wouldn’t  be directly effective against his shields. In addition to proving that  he is using a cheating device, I wanted him to be aware that I had an uzi so that, when I fake it later, he’d be convinced that it is real. 

“Then  I guess this match will end in a draw by waiting the timer out,” I seem  to surmise. “I can't kill you, and you can't kill me while I hold my  cover, and I'm not stupid enough to charge out and meet you in the  open.” 

“You won't, eh?” he says in amusement. “Well, you can run and hide all you want to, but there's no reason that I have to do the same.” 

Rocket  thrusters ignite behind him as he charges down the hallway to meet up  with my drone, and he indeed catches up. He almost fires when he catches  up but holds his fire when he notices that he's facing nothing more than a hover drone with a walkie-talkie taped on it. 

Since it is my drone, I see him stop in front of it on my holographic screen. 

“What's  wrong?” I ask him in a taunting voice through my drone. “I thought you  said you'd give me a kiss. Well, pucker up there, sleazeball!” 

I activate the four explosives I strategically set up on the floor around him. They barely damage him directly, but the floor  is another story. He falls right through the new opening on the floor  and lands on the power generator for the whole base down below. Once  there, he is assaulted by constant powerful jolts of electricity. 

Despite the fact that his shield continues to hold (although they do not  regenerate fast enough to keep up with constant damage like this),  electricity nevertheless fries the systems of his suit. Because of that,  he's a sitting duck. 

I walk back to the hole on the floor then kneel down,  gazing at his suit as it's being fried with several million volts of  electricity per second. During this time, I secretly mute my microphone  towards my guildmates so they do not hear what I'm about to say next. 

“Having  a little trouble down there?” I taunt him from above. “Well get used to  it. Your metaphorical hole is a lot deeper than you think. 

“From  this day forth, every bank account you have that mysteriously goes to  zero, every bad business deal and e-mails you get from your angry  co-workers . . . If you ever wonder how or why in the world this is happening to you, think back on this day . . . Double Trouble!” 

I  see the face of my opponent's digital avatar widen in astonishment  through the clear dome around his mech suit because I told him his name  in real life. 

“Pleased to meet you,” I resume as I lift up a grenade above my head, ready to drop it, “Hope you guess my  name. I'll give you a big hint.” With my other hand, I shoot my  magnetic grapple behind me without looking. I wait for it to attach  before I finish my sentence, to which I say, “Welcome to Hell!” 

I  drop the grenade and retract the grapple cable at the same time. I pull  away while the grenade falls. When the grenade meets up with the  powerful electromagnetic aura of our generator, it sets it off which  sets off a far more powerful explosion that rips apart most of the base and my opponent. 

I know an explosion like this is severe enough to wipe out my opponent and me, but I only have to  survive a split second longer because the two of us are the last ones  in this match. The game will end the second he goes down first. 

Which it does. 

As  my character is logged out of the match, I wince tightly as a screech  of multiple cheers blares into my ear. I quickly turn down their volume  by eighty percent to protect the rest of my hearing. 

I wait a few minutes for my guildmates to calm down, then I somewhat timidly say, “Sun Blaze . . .” 

“Yeah?” she asks back at me, her eyes still bright with great cheer. 

“I just want you to know that . . . no matter what happens between us after this day . . . I will always regard you as my personal hero,” I tell her with solemn passion. 

“Huh?” Sunny cocks her head to the side in confusion. 

I log off the game then pull my VR headgear off my head. I drop it on my desk, pull my knees up to my chest, and hug them. 

I just can't stand to look at her face right now. Not considering what will come next. 

But, at least for tonight, I successfully managed to score her one last victory. 

“That was for you, Sunny,” I tell her fondly and sadly under my breath.
> Chapter Nineteen: As the Sun Sets, Darkness Rises
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

I just can't concentrate today! 

My  pencil hovers over the bubble I need to fill in to answer this  particular question on the test, but my mind keeps getting drawn to what  I'd done two days ago. 

I  feel overwhelmingly guilty and paranoid. I keep looking to the front of  the class at Sunset Shimmer as if convinced that, this time, she'll  realize what I have done and glare at me accusingly. 

Every time I check back on her, though, I see her flipping through text on her cellphone and looking fairly bored. 

Our eyes did meet once. When they did, she gave me a confident wink as if silently assuring me, “You got this, Cozy.” 

Normally I would. Normally this test would be trivial to one of my vast intellect. I know  these answers after all and, even if I didn't, I could probably surmise  it all by a process of deductive reasoning and calculation. 

But today . . . of all days . . . I just don't seem to have it in me. 

I set my pencil down as well as my augmented  reality glasses as I rub my face in frustration and worry. I open my  eyes again and peer back at Sunset. Since my digitally corrected glasses  are now off, my vision is a bit blurry but I can still make out Sunset  sitting up straighter and looking at me with concern. It seems she  finally notices that there is something off about me today. 

I can't help it. 

I set my head down onto the desk, cover my head with my arms, and close my eyes tight as I think back to what I had done two days ago. 

It's  mostly my emotions that bother me today, but there are still some hints  of damage that linger in my system because of something I  “accidentally” did to myself. 

I'm allergic to peanuts, especially certain kinds of it, and I knew that when I deliberately put some into the sandwich  I ate in the morning two days ago. I did it because I wanted a  legitimate excuse to stay home from school on that day. So, when I  claimed I was sick on that day, I wasn't faking. The only thing I lied  about was by claiming someone else made the sandwich for me and was  unaware of my peanut allergy, but I refused to reveal who gave me that  sandwich because I pretended I didn't want to get that person in trouble. 

My  insides actually burned on that day. I threw up far more than once.  Considering how much my mother dotes on me, what I've done to excuse  myself from school was clearly overkill. She was willing to excuse me  for far less than this, but I wanted to make sure that I was dismissed on that day because of another event that occurred back then, a school-wide fire safety drill. 

Most  of the school didn't know that but, because I am Student Council  President and the fact that my mother is the principal, I was well aware  that such a drill would take place on that day. That was key to my  plans because I knew that the school would be evacuated, which meant nobody would be guarding Sunset Shimmer’s magical laptop except the multitude of security cameras placed throughout the school. 

But I had a contingency for that too. As a master chess player, I knew the value of planning ahead. 

It  still wasn't easy. While everyone evacuated the school because of the  fire safety drill, I snuck into the school while disguised in a hoodie  pulled low over my head, black sunglasses concealing my eyes, and a  cloth over my mouth. 

It  took a lot of willpower and fortitude to pull off what I did on that  day for psychological and physiological reasons. It took everything I  had to avoid fainting from dizziness or race to the bathroom to throw up  again. I really wanted to avoid that, too, because I knew I had nothing  left to throw up in my system. It would be a dry heave. 

I  snuck a virus program onto the school security system several days  before I launched that operation. With it, each camera in sequence  towards my destination would be replaced with a recording of an earlier  date for fifteen minutes. 

There  was one slight hitch with that plan, however. On the day I took the  recording to replace all the camera footage, it was broad daylight  outside. When the fire drill occurred,  however, it was a bit cloudy, but that was a very slight variance. I  calculated a less than two percent odds that anyone would notice that  tiny discrepancy. 

Due  to my precautions, I knew I'd not be monitored by anyone or anything  along my way to Sunset's classroom. I also had some of the keys to the  school, which was enough to bypass physical security locks along my way  to my destination. 

I  knew I had to launch the mission on that day because normally Sunset  doesn't leave her magical laptop unguarded like this. Being a one of a  kind enchanted object like that (and Sunset had plenty  of experience with Horse-Land magic landing in the wrong hands), she  normally took no chances with this machine and took it home with her  when she left the school, but the fire drill was scheduled to last only  thirty minutes, and she had her classroom locked anyway. She had no  reason to believe that anyone would go through this much trouble just to  get to her machine, especially since she's convinced that most others  believe that her laptop is perfectly ordinary. 

After  all, she did not go out of her way to advertise to everyone else, “Hey,  guys! Guess what! My laptop is magical! Will someone please try to  steal it from me? I’d be most appreciative of the effort.” 

No.  Sunset Shimmer has way too much common sense for that. With a lot of  people feeling paranoid about her magic, she had even more reason to be  cautious. 

My  plan went off without a hitch, as usual. As a perfectionist, I came up  with plenty of contingency plans to cover for unexpected details but,  for once, part of me was bothered by the fact that my plan was too  perfect. It was as if part of me wanted to be caught. 

But  no, that didn't happen. I ended up facing Sunset's computer with no  problem except for an inward hesitation. When I was right at the brink  of success, I froze up for about two minutes. 

During that time, I had many flashbacks coming to my mind about how good this woman had been in my life. 

Like  the time she wiped cake frosting on my face during a slumber party at  Pinkie Pie's home. She had plenty of cupcakes to go around and an  unbelievable amount of whipped  cream. I made such a valiant attempt to remain clean on that night  despite the barrage of cupcakes being tossed back and forth across the  room but, in the end, it was Sunset that ended up my undoing. 

There  was also that time she tried to teach me soccer with her good friend  Rainbow Dash. Both of them knew I wasn't athletic, which is why they  agreed to train me privately at the park. Despite my frustration at the  activity, I made a serious attempt and typically fumbled in every way  humanly possible. I was annoyed when they laughed at me until they  explained that pony Twilight was just like that when she tried to prove  herself to her friends. Sunset even showed me some photos that Snips and  Snails had taken of my mother’s counterpart epically failing at the  sport, and they were amused at how much I had in common with her. 

After they said that, it made me blush with embarrassment and a little amusement. 

Also,  there was that time Sunset and Pinkie Pie treated me to the carnival  fair when my mom couldn't go because she was too busy with a science  experiment and  she was still studying in college. That didn't take long to complete,  though. Even in college, my mom tested out of several classes. This  resulted in her graduating from college several years early. 

At  the time, I had never been to the fair before. That was exactly why  they treated me out so insistently. Pinkie nearly fainted when she first  heard that, and Sunset insisted on personally correcting this  oversight. 

As  for me, I wasn't too anxious because I never knew what I was missing,  and I also didn't expect such kindness from anyone back then. 

But  when I got there, I had felt overwhelmed in a good way. The sights, the  sounds, the smells . . . the whole experience felt magical and  otherworldly to me. The spinning lights, the cheering crowds, the fun  houses, the tame rides I participated in (I insisted on not going on the  roller coasters despite the intensity of their urging). 

As  for the games, one memory stuck out to me. Pinkie Pie bounded away and  claimed she wanted to get some cotton candy. Meanwhile Sunset delivered  me to a pair of twins with very similar hair color to Sunset, but they  were male. The twins actually looked like shifty grifters to me, and yet  they were scared to see Sunset approach them for some reason. 

“Ah  . . . well . . . Sunset, what a surprise!” the one without a mustache  exclaimed. His eyes were shifty while he sweated nervously. He looked as  if he were seeking an excuse to avoid this encounter. “I didn't expect  to see you here today.” 

“Well  I told you before!” Sunset took off her leather jacket then rolled up  her shirt sleeves. “I don't like to lose!” Sunset slams some cash on  their counter. “Give me fifty rings, now!” 

“Ah . . . well, how about we cut a deal instead?” The mustached twin proposed with a somewhat deeper voice. 

Oddly, he seemed to be feeling . . . guilty? Why? They seemed to be exactly the type that should love to take advantage of a sucker. 

“With  that much cash,” he went on, “you can buy any prize we have straight  out!” He waved his hands above him at their prizes. “Take your pick!  We'll even let you have two if you want.” He smirks at me for a second  then looks back at Sunset. “Perhaps an extra prize for the little one?” 

“Also, is she your daughter?” The non-mustache one asked. 

This time he sounded calmer, like he was just making conversation. I'm pretty sure his curiosity was genuine. 

This  was the first (but not the last) time I would see them, and vice versa.  I didn't know it back then, but I have since learned their names are  Flim and Flam. 

Sunset  stood up straighter. When she spoke, she sounded calmer too. “No. This  is actually the kid of one of my dear friends, but she's busy right now  and I heard that she's never been to a carnival before, so I opted to take care of that for her.” 

“Well,  now! Isn't that something!” Flam, the mustached one, exclaimed with  interest. “In that case, how about she tosses a few rings in our game,  free of charge?” Flam looks at me. “Well, how about it, little lady?  Care to try your luck?” 

“I don't try my luck, I make  it!” my twelve-year-old self told them firmly. “Sorry, but you won't  find a sucker in me.” I narrowed my eyes at them. “I'm on to your little  game!” 

“Well, brother of mine, it seems like this one is too smart for us!” Flim jested to his brother. 

“Indubitably, brother of mine!” Flam agreed in a showboating sort of way. 

Clearly  these two were both putting on an act. Why couldn't Sunset see it? She  seemed too smart for this too. Did she have a plan of her own? 

“Fifty rings, now!” Sunset reminded and insisted. 

“Well, we could, but-” Flim was sweating and wiped the back of his neck in discomfort. “I certainly don't want to stand in your way but-” 

“But nothing! Give me my darn RINGS!” Sunset cried out. 

“We don't have  fifty rings,” Flim said, still trying to weasel his way out of an easy  scam for some reason. “I think we only have twenty at most.” 

I would later determine that, for once, he was probably being honest with that statement. 

Sunset  leaned forward as she slammed both hands on the counter. “In that case,  give me those twenty, then return them to me after I finish tossing  them, then another ten after that. That makes fifty.” 

“Or you could pay for ten at a time,” Flam counter proposed. 

Sunset narrowed her eyes at them in focused fury. 

This  took the Flim/Flam brothers aback. They spun about and started  whispering a plan among themselves. Sometimes they pointed back at  Sunset as they discussed. 

“There is nothing to discuss! I am a paying customer, so give me my damn rings!” Sunset cried out impatiently. 

I sighed. As an accomplished liar myself, seeing amateur  scams like this somewhat irritates me, and it especially annoyed me  that Sunset was falling for it anyway. I thought she was above these  things. 

The  only part I couldn't figure out was why they felt so nervous to scam  Sunset. Was their mother going to suddenly pop in and box their ears for  this charade? 

I  thought I knew how this encounter would end, but Sunset finally did  manage to land one of the rings on the twenty-fourth attempt without it  “mysteriously” popping off the bottles, obviously due to some magnetic  repellent. 

Seeing Sunset's success made me raise an eyebrow. 

If  the Flim/Flam brothers wanted to get rid of her, why not turn off the  machine that repelled the rings earlier? Why did Sunset succeed on the  twenty-fourth attempt? Did the grifter brothers finally recall to  secretly turn off their machine by then? 

Whatever.  Sunset was overjoyed to finally succeed. The way she cheered out made  it seem like she crossed an item off her bucket list. Meanwhile the  Flim/Flam brothers hastily gave her a prize with one additional one of  my selection then shooed us away so that they could address the other  line of customers. Sunset accepted her prize and walked away taller,  feeling like a critical piece missing from her life was finally whole  again. 

Meanwhile,  I kept shaking my head, but that didn't stop me from squeezing my prize  in appreciation. Even though I wasn't accustomed to it back then, I loved being doted on! 

Then my mind returned to that moment in front of the computer. I recall how my hands shook as I neared the flash drive to the USB  port on the side of the computer. I had to grab that hand to steady it.  Eventually I finally managed to insert it into the machine. 

That's all I had to do. The flash drive did the rest for me. 

One  thing that was odd, though, was a static shock I suffered as the flash  drive neared the machine. It was almost as if the machine tried to  defend itself in a very small way, but I persisted. I soon dismissed  that fluke with a shrug. 

Several  loading bars with percentages zipped across Sunny's laptop as my flash  drive not only downloaded certain content from her machine, but also  uploaded some data. 

That, more than anything else, should later prove to be Sunny's downfall. 

I closed my eyes and bowed my head at the time, inwardly thinking, “I’m so sorry, Sunny! I really  wish I didn't have to do this. I wish you weren't in my way.” I looked  back at the machine. “But I have a mission to complete, and I can't  allow myself to be dragged down by anyone. Not even you.” 

In the long run, those words amounted to very small comfort. 

So  when my mind returns to the present and I see a couple of police  officers enter into the classroom, I am the only one in the room not  surprised by this. 

Everyone, including me, stops what they are doing and watches this new development. 

The pair of officers approach Sunset. As they do, she stands up and looks back and forth between them with an expression of confusion and worry. 

“Ah . . . yes? Can I help you two officers with anything?” Sunny offers. 

“Are you Sunset Shimmer?” one of them asks her. 

“Ah . . . yes. Yes I am,” Sunny confirms. “Why? What's this all about?” 

The two police officers glance at each other with a nod, then the same one who spoke to her earlier turns to face her while pulling out handcuffs. 

“Sunset Shimmer, turn around and put your hands behind your back,” that officer commands. “You are under arrest.” 

“WHAT?!” Sunset exclaims in shock. “But, what did I do?” 

“Turn around and put your hands behind your back,” the officer repeats a little more firmly. 

Sunset clearly looks flustered, but she eventually cooperates. That officer proceeds to handcuff her. 

“You  have the right to remain silent,” the officer informs. “Anything you  say can be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to  talk to a lawyer for advice before we ask you any questions. You have  the right to have a lawyer with you during questioning.” 

“No!  This is bullshit!” one of our male classmates calls in outrage as he  stands up with an aggressive posture which immediately seizes the alert  attention of the two officers. 

Several other students rise up and join him in seconds to share their mutual complaint. 

“No, everyone, sit back down!” Sunset commands her class. “I'm sure this is all just a misunderstanding. Don't do anything to provoke them!” 

I wish this was a misunderstanding, but I know exactly why these two officers are here. 

Not  only did my flash drive from Ghost download any pertinent information  about Horse-Land from her computer, but it also uploaded incriminating  evidence that Sunset Shimmer had sexual interest in her students. I also  programmed the computer with a virus that would “accidentally” leak  that information to those in town who had the tendency to gossip. With  that kind of information on their hands, it was only a matter of time  before the press and the police took notice of this and then took legal action against Sunset. 

No  doubt that the police officers will collect Sunset's magical computer  as well to use as evidence against her. When they do, I know they'll  find far more damning evidence against her on it. 

The worst part of it is, some of it is true. 

I  am ninety-nine percent sure that Sunset has no true sexual interest  towards any of her students. Even if she did, she'd never act upon those  urges. She’s just too much of a saint for that. 

However, Sunset did have frequent correspondence with many students outside of her classroom setting. Typically  it was to help them with their homework or simply to be a friend to  help her students through emotional problems. Sunset Shimmer went above  and beyond the call of duty to support her students, likely far more  than she should have. 

I didn't tamper with that evidence directly, but seen in the wrong context, I had to admit, it didn't look good for her. 

So the police will lock up Sunset's laptop as evidence, which also means nobody will have a chance to use it to communincate  with Princess Twilight back in Horse-Land. That, in turn, means  Princess Twilight won't have a chance to report my treachery in her  lands even if my mother somehow finds a way to partially repair the  portal. 

All my bases are covered. I am just too damn good at my job. 

The police officers continue to tell Sunny her Miranda rights as they lead her out of the classroom. I'm sure Superintendent Neighsay is going to have a field day with this event later on. 

But as the officers lead Sunset out of the room, time slows down in my perception. Sound fades away into the background. 

As  I look at Sunset Shimmer's face, I see her struggling to maintain a  brave face, but I can tell she's very worried and confused. The words,  “What did I do?” must be repeating in her head over and over again. 

While  I observe that, one song repeats continuously in my mind. That song is,  “Angel”. In particular, the words that cycle through my head the most  are, “In the arms of the angel.” 

Nothing  feels right about that moment, not even to me. Everything is proceeding  according to my carefully calculated design. Indeed, a design minted in  pure perfection, and yet everything around me feels fake and surreal  somehow. The time slowing effect only enhances this feeling further. 

Vaguely I hear the complaints of the students behind me, but their sounds fade into an unintelligible cacophony for me. 

Instead of them, my mind and sight are focused on Sunset Shimmer. 

As  I watch her get pushed away in slow motion, tears rise to my eyes. The  “Angel” song rises in my mind as if trying to damn me with guilt. 

And it's working! Oh man, it's working so much! 

Sunset  pauses a moment at the exit of the room. The police officers are  briefly patient with that defiance. From there, Sunset looks back across  the room to the other complaining students, then her eyes settle on me. 

It  is so hard to meet her gaze at that moment, but I press on with  determination. I know I don't deserve this, but I couldn't help but look  back at her with an expression begging to apologize to her. I am  wracked with more guilt than I have ever felt in my life. 

Sunset seems to realize something when she meets my gaze. A moment later she appears much more sad, as if she is convinced that she failed me somehow. 

NO! DON'T EVER THINK THAT, SUNSET! You tried more than almost anyone I've ever known to make me happy! I love you for it! Don't ever think that makes you a failure! 

After  three seconds, the officer who grasps her handcuffs gives her a bit of a  shove as a reminder to move on. He did not push too hard or too soft.  It is a medium, insistent and somewhat impatient gesture. 

Sunset looks forward and finally leaves the room. 

This is the last time I would ever see Sunset Shimmer in person for quite some time. 




* * * 



 


The  next time I kind of saw Sunset Shimmer is during lunch the following  day. Initially I am in a board meeting with the other members of my  Student Council staff, but it gets interrupted when one of them notes  that Sunset Shimmer is on the news. 

Not  even I can resist a lure like that. Like the others, I, too, look at  the upper corner of our room at the television hung here. 

Someone in the room, I don't know who, not only unmutes the television but also turns it up. 

On  the television, it shows Sunset Shimmer at a press meeting with dozens  of people trying to talk in front of her. Her face is lit up with almost  constant camera flashes. 

“NO!” Sunset cries out instantly as she slams both hands on the podium in front of her. “I would never do that to any of my students! I wouldn't even think that way! How can any of you believe that?” 

“But  isn't it true that you had frequent e-mail correspondence with some of  them?” one of the reporters asks in the room. “For instance-” 

“Y-yes, I have spoken to some of my students outside of the classroom setting, and yes, I know it looks bad, but I only did it to help them with their assignments!” Sunset explains. “I'm a teacher!” She places her hands to her chest. “It's my job to expose my students to knowledge, and I have done that every single day!” 

“Exactly what kind of education did you offer?” another female reporter asks. Clearly the question had lewd implications. 

“How can you ask me that?” Sunset asks back in frustration. 

“What about your Satanic rituals?” another reporter asks. “Do you deny that you had intimate connections with the Devil?” 

“WHAT?!” Sunset exclaims in abject shock and horror. 

There  we go! I was waiting for one of the reporters to ask a question like  that. It's the Salem Witch trials all over again, except this time with a  modern twist. 

I  knew for a fact that many people whispered conspiratorially behind  Sunset's back, just like all of her other magically endowed friends.  They temporarily held their silence because Sunset promised to restrain  the use of her powers in public. When she did use it, she only used it  to fight crime. 

Deep down, however, I knew that many people were secretly afraid of this “superhero”. 

As a wise one once said, “Fear is the path to the dark side! Fear leads to anger, anger leads to hate, hate . . . leads to suffering!” 

As this moment clearly shows, those words are so true in real life. 

Since  she is publicly capable of feats few other human beings on earth can  replicate, people silently studied and judged her in the shadows, just  waiting for her to make a mistake. Once she does, I knew they'd suddenly  come out of the woodwork and complain about how “evil” Sunset had been  all along while simultaneously completely ignoring all the good work  she's done over these many years. 

Although I am so disgusted at my fellow species right now, that doesn't mean I'm not smart enough to exploit them. I knew exactly how my species would react to Sunset the moment they have an excuse to shout at her. 

“Isn't it true that you turned into a she-demon during one of your Fall Formals in Canterlot  High?” the same reporter asks. “Then you tried to brainwash all of your  fellow students to do your bidding. Was this the first time you sealed  your pact with your demonic overlord?” 

“Objection!”  Sunset's rather well collected looking lawyer says as he pulls one of  the microphones on the podium in front of him. “All of that is hearsay.  We can neither confirm nor deny the existence of demonic or Equestrian  magic.” 

“On  the contrary, we've had plenty of evidence for years!” a reporter  rebuts. “Sunset Shimmer might be the source of these energetic  disturbances.” 

The  reporters keep droning on and on about accusing questions like, “How  long have you had sexual fantasies about your students?” and “What kind  of other demonic pacts have you made?” 

Sunset  herself looks bewildered and stunned. Her eyes shift back and forth  between each one who spoke until she looks too numb to register their  questions anymore. 

As I stare at her, I feel like I can read her mind. 

Sunset is thinking about the time hostile judgments were aimed at her after the Fall Formal and her first (and only)  transformation into a she-demon. Right now, she can't believe this is  happening to her all over again. She thought she was well past this. She  thought everyone was past this, and only now is she realizing that many  still fear her even after all this time. 

My  heart starts to break when I see Sunset Shimmer's eyes begin to water,  and I definitely break when I see Sunset do it first. Both of her hands  cover her face as she starts to sob in full view of everyone which they  take as even more damning evidence of her guilt. 

But I secretly know Sunset is totally innocent. 

At this moment, I could feel her pain even through the television screen. 

The  words, “In the arms of the angel,” repeat in my head again. That song  stubbornly loops. While it does, I wonder privately, “What happens when  it's the angel herself  that needs a hug? Will any of us mortals have the moral integrity and  compassion it takes to sooth our savior in her hour of need?” 

If I could fly through the television screen and offer her that hug, I would. 

I  don't even care how many pictures would be taken during that act. Let  the pictures spread! Let the whole world know how much I adore this  woman! 

“Okay,  that's IT! This interview is over!” Sunny's lawyer insists. He gently  pulls Sunset back by her shoulder and shields her from the camera  flashes using the coat of his own gray suit. Subtly he seems to hug her  compassionately from the side as he leads her away. Meanwhile Sunset is  just too broken to put up any resistance. 

My tears blur my vision of the television screen. 

The actions of that heroic lawyer do seem somewhat unprofessional at this moment, but I don't mind. On the contrary, I feel like I owe him a favor. 

For  some reason that I can't put my finger on, this lawyer actually seems  to care for Sunset a great deal. He might have even taken the case pro bono 

Question is, why? Did she save him in the past, or did she save someone he cared about? 

Sunset  Shimmer was a hero to many over these years. It's not unreasonable to  hypothesize that she has gained a loyal following accordingly, including  from those she never knew about. 

To  me, the most important thing he's doing at this moment is protecting  Sunny and secretly giving her an emotional hug of support, the very  thing that I desperately want to do right now. 

I  couldn't believe how grateful I felt to have a proxy do it for me  because it means my desperate hopes successfully reaches Sunset in some  remote way. 

“Yeah,  I can't believe this!” I hear one of my council members whisper  conspiratorially behind my back. “All this time . . . Sunset Shimmer  simply wanted in our pants!” 

WHAT?! 

I immediately spin my chair about to face Sunset's accuser. 

“Come again?!” I heatedly demanded. “Are you seriously telling me that you believe this crap?” I point my thumb behind me at the television. 

“You got to admit, it does make some sense,” Fine Job, the white-skinned and brown haired boy wearing a striped shirt says with a shrug. “Sunset Shimmer was unusually determined to win favors for her students. Perhaps she's been hoping to gain favors in return?” 

“I heard,” Scribble Dee, the nerdy girl, says as she adjusts  her glasses on her face, “that she keeps a whole slew of former  students in her basement. That's where the pictures are coming from!  They're leaked all over the internet.” 

“And the internet is the perfect, indisputable source of human knowledge?!” I ask with rising fury. “Can't you all hear yourselves? This is Sunset Shimmer we're talking about! We've known her for years.” 

“Yeah.  Spooky, isn't it?” Silver Spoon asks in a somewhat careless way as she  blows bubble gum and keeps on typing away on her cellphone. “You just  never know what you'll discover in some people you thought you knew for  years.” 

“What's that supposed to mean?!” Diamond Tiara asks her former friend hotly. 

“It  means what it means,” Silver says in a careless tone then holds up a  hand to Diamond. “Talk to the hand, bitch, because the face doesn't  care.” 

I notice Diamond Tiara quaking with fury and she's about to explode. 

Normally I would secretly be all for Diamond's explosive breakdown, but I feel exhausted from all the drama I suffered from lately. 

“ENOUGH,  people!” I slam my fists on our conference table which startles and  gathers the attention of all of my staff. “I may have expected this  behavior from paranoid and nervous religious freaks out there, but here?  In our school? Seriously?” 

I shake my head as I reach a decision. 

“Okay,  that's it! Enough of this tripe. We're arranging a meeting to address  the elephant in the room with this school,” I command. 

“With who?” Silver Spoon asks as she squints one eye at me behind her silver-rim glasses. 

“EVERYONE!” I bark back at her. 

I  pause a moment as I take a deep breath, then I resume much more calmly.  I also collect my fingers together in front of my face. 

“Spread  the word. We're having a school assembly before the end of this month  to deal with the issue of Sunset Shimmer.” I narrow my eyes as I glare  over my collected hands in front of my face, which is held up by the  fact that my elbows rest on the table. “It's time we clear the air at  this school once and for all!” 




* * * 



 


I  am alone in my room, and indeed the entire house, at the end of the  day, unless I count K-9. Even then, however, it is not in my room. 

I  just can't concentrate on my homework today. If my mother were here, I  think she'd find these circumstances understandable. More than likely,  she would be in here and hugging me in a desperate effort to comfort us  both. Normally I wouldn't object to this, but today I feel like a piece of shit who doesn't deserve such comfort. 

It seems so odd that I am feeling so terrible despite, or perhaps because of, my perfect plan that went off without a hitch. 

I  got everything I ever wanted, for now. Sunset Shimmer is out of the  way. She's currently in jail while waiting for her trial. Her computer  is confiscated, and I have the most important data from it before that  happened. 

For once, I curse my unerring perfection. 

I  numbly look down at the flash drive that is still laying on top of my  desk. I pick it up and examine it. While I do, I contemplate the irony  of how something so small can make such a big difference in the world. 

For  a brief moment I feel a flaring urge to crush this thing, but I soon  shake it off. I crossed the point of no return. If I destroy this thing,  then Sunset is suffering for less reason than before. Since I have gone  this far, I might as well take a full look at why this is all worth it. 

Besides, there are some questions which linger in my mind, such as something Princess Twilight recently told me. 

“Your mother already knows all of that. I know this because I'm the one who told her.” 

I clasp the flash drive in a fist. 

Most  of me is convinced that all I received at the end of my visit in  Horse-Land was a song and dance designed to deceive me. Accusing my  birth parents of being abusive was a severe mistake. I know that part isn't true, but . . . what really bothers me is the fact that so much of her story otherwise makes sense. 

For  example, why did my mother adopt me so suddenly, and why did she seem  so desperate to please me? Her loss with Spike might explain it, but I  can't help but wonder if there is something more to the story. 

Damn you, your Majesty! Even your transparent lies are worming  their way into my brain. I know they are wrong on an intellectual  level, but my emotions can't help but wonder, “Wait a second. Is that  true? Is that why my mother was so desperate to dote on me? Was she  secretly afraid I'd end up like my counterpart if she didn't?” 

Also, I have to wonder, after what I've done to Sunset Shimmer, by far the most despicable thing I've done in my life, how far am I  from the other Cozy's fate and personality? Are we starting to get in  sync now, or does her villainy still have a dramatic lead over me? 

Most likely, it does. Maybe the other Cozy wouldn't even flinch at betraying Sunny. 

Then again, she hasn't gone through the experience with Sunny like I have. 

Oh my GOD, this hurts so bad! I can feel the pain clenching in my chest like an icy claw. 

I open my hand and look back at the flash drive. 

If  I can't ask the adults I know in my life for more information about  Horse-Land then I have little other alternative but to review the info  on the flash drive. 

Besides, even if I did ask them, who's to say their info is trustworthy? 

Sunset  Shimmer and Princess Twilight never expected me to get my hands on this  information, so whatever is written here is totally candid. That is exactly what I need right now. The truth! 

Feeling resolve at last, I reach forward to insert the flash drive into my computer tower's USB port. 

And get zapped again. 

Ow! Son of a biscuit! 

Wait! 

My eyes widen. 

That's twice now I get zapped by the same flash drive. Is that significant? 

I dismissed it last time as a probable fluke but I should  take into account that this thing tried to download information from a  magical computer. Does that mean it copied some of the computer’s magic  as well? 

Suddenly I grow even more intrigued by this information. 

Well, the flash drive is successfully inserted anyway, electric shock notwithstanding. 

Unlike  Sunny's computer, however, my computer has a program to meet the virus  on the flash drive and change its directive immediately. Instead of  trying to copy and upload information, this flash drive will now upload  Sunny's info only. 

I  lean back and collect my squishy ball as I wait for the flash drive to  upload. While it does, I feel on edge. I feel both excited and scared at  the same time. 

Setting the possibility of Horse-Land magic aside, this flash drive might contain some very uncomfortable information about me. 

I’ve got to admit, there are some mysteries in my life that beg for an explanation. I dwell on the possibilities. 

What if it turns out it's true and they always did know of the crimes of my pony self? Would anything in my life actually change because of that reveal? 

Previously  I tried everything I could to keep this information from my mother  because I feared she'd abandon me, just like my birth parents did, if my  mother gained any reason to fear me or be disappointed in me. 

If,  however, it turns out she knew all along then that invalidates my fear  of the reveal. If anything, it only proves that maybe my mother has been  keeping me especially close because of what she learned of my pony self. 

For  that matter, what about Princess Twilight? What if my mother has been  brainwashed by pony magic? My mother's forte is science, not magic. She  would have been vulnerable to such a mental assault, especially since  she foolishly trusts them so much. 

Come  to think of it, Sunny's magic has to do with mind-reading as well. What  if it didn't stop there? What if she could also do mind control? Her demon self proved well capable of this. Perhaps she has a residual cast-off of that same earlier dark potential. 

I don't really want to believe it. Sunny has been nothing but kind to me, unless it turns out she altered every bad memory I ever had of her. 

Actually, it is true that my memories of Sunset are unusually perfect, just like my birth parents. 

There are  very small flaws here and there that make Sunny look more human, like  the time she smeared cake frosting on my face when I made it clear that I  wanted to stay clean. In the end we all had a good laugh over it, but  still . . . 

Looking back at the computer, I notice that it is nearly finished. 

Sudden fury flares up in me. 

Damn  you, Little Miss Prissy! Yet another casualty of war falls in the  crossfire because of you! I'll have to get even more creative with my  vengeance against you. It's not just for my sake anymore, but also for  Sunny. 

I grin for a second when I see that the flash drive finishes, but that grin vanishes when my computer suddenly shuts off. 

My eyes explode widely. 

WHAT THE FUCK?! Why did this happen? I didn't program that flash drive to turn off my computer. 

My computer starts up again on its own. 

Correction . . . reset my computer, but whatever! I didn't program that either! What the hell is going on here? 

Since  my computer loads from a solid-state hard drive, the main operating  system is up and running in eleven seconds. I stare at my desktop,  feeling bewildered. 

It gets even weirder and downright creepy when a new chat window pops up on its own and bold text comes on in Horse-Land script. 



Dark King: Hello, poppet. It's a pleasure to meet you at last. 



My eyelids droop halfway, then I type, which once again comes up in Horse-Land script. 



The  Shadow Queen: Ghost, is that you? Have you bugged this flash drive just  to get on my computer? I thought you told me you were satisfied with my  payment. 

Dark King: Do NOT associate me with that little bug! Besides, why would he understand Equestrian script? 



I lift an eyebrow. 

That's  a good point, unless this hacker is using an auto-translation program.  It's strange that he would even be aware of it, though. 



Dark King: Anyway,  it seems you are having some trouble pulling your mind away from the  actions you had to take in order to protect yourself from Sunset  Shimmer. 



I widen my eyes slightly at the screen. 

Okay, that's scary. How does this guy even know what I did to Sunset? 

I decide to test him by playing dumb for a moment. 



The Shadow Queen: Protect me from what? 

Dark King: DON'T play dumb with me, little poppet! It does not suit you. 

Dark King: It has taken me centuries  to find a Queen worthy to rule by my side. How could I have ever known  I'd finally find what I sought in a world of pathetic, two-legged  creatures? 



I gulp nervously, then I type. 


The Shadow Queen: So I assume, then, you come from Horse-Land? That's why you speak their language? 



For  some reason I hear an evil snicker in my mind. It sounds sort of like  multiple voices laughing maniacally in unison, but I dismiss it a moment  later. 



Dark King: The magic of Sunset Shimmer's computer is a gateway between our worlds. 

Dark King: For years she has used it to communicate to others in her home world, but your actions have permitted me an unexpected opportunity to intervene. 

Dark King: For  the most part, I must say that I have been impressed with you. Your  ambition is worthy of the greatest rulers of our respective lands, and  the best part is the fact that it is fueled by your thirst for  vengeance. 

Dark King: Keep  that as your primary focus. That will give you strength, and if anyone  else stands in your way or threatens your plans, as Ms. Sunny once did,  then they must be stamped out without mercy! 

Dark King: The only thing you are missing to complete your transformation to an ultimate power is Equestrian magic. 

Dark King: I will provide that, and so much more! 

Dark King: When I break you, I will mold you like clay into my own image. 

Dark King: Oh, the power we will command when that glorious day comes! 



I roll my eyes, then type. 



The  Shadow Queen: Okay, Darth Sidious. I'll keep your advice in mind. How  about I offer advice of my own in payment? Why don't you check out the  padded rooms at your local psyche ward? I hear that they are lovely this  time of- 



I didn't finish typing or hit enter when I already got a response to my comment. 



Dark King: Do not PRESUME to mock me! 



I  am greatly startled when my screen is suddenly struck by an invisible  force hard enough to spread cracks within the screen. The impact seems  to have come from the inside of the screen. Based on the crack patterns, the impact seems to have come from a hoof. 

I stare at it in horror as blood leaks down from the cracks of my computer screen, but neither the cracks nor the blood conceal the text chat window. It's as if the chat window is in front of the damage and leaks. 



Dark King: I am not some two-bit hacker from your pathetic world! 

Dark King: Instead, I am a KING! 

Dark King: I both command and DEMAND respect and obedience as such! 



When  the blood drools down the desk, it seems to poison it somehow. Tiny  black crystals grow from where the blood hits the desk. Unnatural  shadows stretch from those crystals like menacing claws. As I watch this  in horror, I can no longer believe that this is any ordinary hack job.  Something clearly unnatural is going on right now. 



Dark King: GOOD! Embrace your fears! Let them become a part of you! 



I behold as the inky darkness stretches across my room and grows several more black crystals along its  way, especially when the shadows change course. Looming shadows stretch  across the floor then crawl up the walls to the back of my room. As  black crystals grow from those, they seem to embed themselves into the  wall which damages the walls in the process. Cracks spread across the  wall as the crystals grow larger. 

In fright, I look back at the computer screen. 



Dark King: By challenging and conquering your fears, they lose their hold over you. 

Dark King: By embracing your fears, you embrace the source of your power. 

Dark King: Do not shy away from it, become it! 

Dark King: A monster does not fear other monsters when it has claws and fangs of its own. 



A  dark shadow stretches before my very feet then crawls up my legs.  Crystals start to grow around my own feet now which, in turn, locks me  down. 



Dark King: Fear. 



As  the dark crystals continue to crawl up my leg, I panic as my mind  flashes back to the stoned version of myself in the pony world. 

Unable to move. Unable to cry. Unable to call for help despite desperately wanting to. 

Unwanted. Rejected. Unloved. Ignored. 



Dark King: FEAR! 



The  crystals crawl up my chest but seem to slow down a bit as it approaches  my neck. A crystal lattice inches its way up to my neck and splits  apart like a dark claw on its way to choke me. 

Already I can't move my lower and mid section of my body. 

I am frozen! Trapped! 

My chest heaves. Pressure builds in my skull. I hyperventilate. 

I can't breathe! I can't BREATHE! 



Dark King: FEAR! 



The crystal grows up to then thickens around my neck, making my respiratory problems even worse. 

My sanity is pushed to the edge of a cliff. 



Dark King: Thou shalt subMIT! 



I close my eyes and scream at the top of my lungs. I no longer care who hears me. 

In fact, I want others to hear me. Anyone who might help me chase away this demon! 

I  am uncertain how long I scream for, but it ends with a cough. I am  physically unable to scream any further, and I'm out of breath besides. 

When  I take a breath to scream again, it hits me that I am capable. My  breath is still strained, but far easier than someone who is choking  with black crystals. 

In a desperate effort to explain this, my eyes flare open. 

Everything  is quiet. All the crystals are gone. The looming shadows are gone. My  computer screen is repaired and shows no sign it was ever damaged. The  mysterious chat window is gone. 

Everything  is as it was before the flash drive loaded except for the fact that I  am hyperventilating and my lungs are closed up. It's especially hard to  take an intake of breath. I still can't breathe! 

Desperately,  I snatch up my inhaler. I put it to my mouth without any hesitation,  feeling like I'm about to die or pass out if I don't do this right away.  I'm so hasty with this process that I don't do it properly at first. I  have to shoot another dose in me and breathe it in at the right time. Finally I feel my lungs expand. I hold my breath for a moment then expel it with a single burst. 

I  feel exhausted. Drained like an empty cup. My vision blackens a bit due  to the oxygen starvation my brain suffered a moment ago. Along with it  is an intense rush of dizziness, but it fades over time as I resume  regular breathing. 

I focus back at my computer screen narrowly. 

What the hell was that?
> Chapter Twenty: I Talk with Button
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

While  I am busy crunching numbers based on my last Student Council meeting,  the telephone on my desk rings. I look at it then reach over to answer  it by pressing the speakerphone option. 

“Yes?” I ask. 

“Mr. Button Mash is here to see you,” Scribble Dee announces on speakerphone. 

God, she actually sounds  like a stereotypical secretary with her nasally voice. I realize that  she's going to make a good lap dog for some business tycoon someday. 

Nothing wrong with that. I like Scribble Dee. She takes her work seriously, unlike some people around here lately. 

I lean back in my seat and tap my lips thoughtfully with a pen in my hand as I think on what she said. 

Button Mash . . . here? Why? Could he . . . 

I widen my eyes in astonishment. 

No! It can't be! 

“Does he have an appointment?” I check with Scribble. 

“Yes  he does, Ma'am. He set it up four days ago,” Scribble reports. “Should I  send him in? He says it's urgent, and he is asking to see you specifically.” 

“Well if it's urgent, I have no right to stop him, especially since he went through the proper channels. Send him in.” 

“Very good, Ma'am. I'll send him in right away.” 

I  peer at the door to my office at school while continuing to tap my lips  thoughtfully with my pen. I am also rocking back and forth in my seat. 

In my head, a thousand scenarios rapidly calculate until he arrives and opens my door. 

Button Mash opens the door halfway and knocks on it twice. There he pauses, waiting for permission to enter further. 

“Come in,” I casually invite him. 

Button  enters fully. I see him dressed in brown shorts. He's wearing a T-shirt  with an image of a puppy dog staring upward with a begging expression.  His white tennis shoes strike me as a tiny bit feminine. It makes me  wonder if it's a hand-me-down from some female cousin of his. 

It's the look on his brown face, though, that really nabs my attention. He looks scared, but also determined. Whatever the reason  that drew him here, it took a lot of resolve. That is one reason, among  many others, that I am intrigued about this encounter. 

“Please,”  I gesture to a chair across my desk, “sit down. Make yourself  comfortable,” I invite him soothingly, trying my best to ease his  tension. 

He sits down but remains nervous. I see him wipe his hands through his sweaty orange hair. 

“Tell me what's bothering you,” I request kindly. “As an elected official, I'm here to help. How can I serve you today?” 

Button  Mash is a nervous wreck. This is evident to me in so many ways. For  example, I see his left leg idly bouncing up and down rapidly. He looks  sweaty and his face is scrunched up in strong worry but also determined  focus. 

As  I observe him, a certain theory as to why this encounter is taking  place escalates in odds. If I'm right, there is a strong irony to this  situation. 

“I want to . . .” he begins but he trails off. I see him squeeze his eyes tight. He seems to be almost panicking. 

I  realize I need to help defuse this situation. I have to remind myself  that, as Student Council President, I have to keep on my “good cop”  face. 

“Calm down, Button, and take a deep breath. Obviously, something is really bothering you and I want to help, but you have got to tell me what it is first. 

“So,  before we get to that, just breathe. In . . .” I inhale deeply while  waiting for him to copy me, which he does. “. . . and out,” I say as I  also expel my breath. I repeat these instructions one more time as he  follows me. Doing so visibly decreases his tension level. 

“Okay. Let's start over,” I advise. “What is this all about?” 

He  clenches the edges of his armchair tightly while he winces, then spouts  out, “I am being blackmailed by someone named The Shadow Queen.” 

I narrow my eyes slightly at him. 

So I was right. Time for a little punishment. 

Under  my desk, I secretly twist my wrist to activate motion tracking. While I  use it to bring up an invisible keyboard, I ask him smoothly, “Go on.  You said someone is blackmailing you? Who is she, and what did she ask  you to do?” 

While he speaks, I quickly type up a message under my desk. 

“I've  been in contact with someone online who calls herself 'The Shadow  Queen'. She's some kind of digital hacker who uses information she  obtains to force people, like me, to do her favors or else she'll expose  us with . . . stuff.” 

“That's terrible,” I feign alarm. “Tell me more. How long has this been going on exactly?” 

Once I finish my message, I secretly send it to him. 

“I  think it's fifteen months?” Button guesses. “It's hard to tell. Every  time she sends me a text message, it gets erased shortly after I read  it. Just 'poof'. It vanishes.” 

I look confused. “Only after you read the message? How would she even know you've read them in the first place?” 

Button Mash simply shrugs, then checks his phone as it vibrates. After he does, I visibly see the blood drain from his face. 

“Is that her?” I ask him. 

He looks at me and nods numbly. 

“Hand it to me,” I demand. “Let me see it now before it erases.” 

He does so, but I, of course, already know what it says. I look at his cellphone screen and pretend to be interested anyway. 



The  Shadow Queen: You crossed the wrong girl! I TOLD you to leave Cozy Glow  to me. Mark my words, you will PAY for your insolence! 



I look up at Button Mash with sudden alarm as I ask him, “You received this text message just now?” 

Again, he nods numbly. I also see him visibly shaking. 

I  quickly scramble to pull out my own cellphone from my purse. Using it, I  take a picture of the text on his cellphone before it gets erased. 

Actually,  I manage to take three pictures before the text goes away, erased by  the auto program I have on his phone the moment he activates the screen  and his own camera registers the fact he looks at it. Once the facial  recognition software confirms the fact he saw it, it gets erased ten seconds later. 

But, of course, the “heroic” and smart Student Council President manages to preserve a copy before that happens. 

I  set both phones down and carefully peer out my two windows to the side  of the door of my office. Button looks confused and follows my gaze.  He's clearly wondering what I'm thinking. When he looks back at me, our  eyes meet each other for a moment, then I look down at my desk as I  quickly reach for a post-it note, then scribble something down on it. 

“I  want you to know something, Button,” I say as I write a quick note  down. “I take cyber-bullying at my school very seriously. I thank you  for bringing this to my attention.” 

Having just finished the note, I slide it over to him and non-verbally encourage him to read it immediately. 

As he does so, I know he reads the message, “If ‘The Shadow Queen' knows you are talking to me right now, then she probably has this room bugged. Just follow my lead.” 

After  reading the message, Button Mash looks at me with wide eyes. I give him  a shushing motion with a finger to my lips for a moment, then I go on  to say openly, “There is, of course, a possibility that this is all just a prank but, just in case it is real, I want you to do something for me.” 

I pull out another post-it note and scribble another hidden message. 

“I want you to let me and my staff take care of it.” 

I slide the message over to him when I am finished. When he reads it, I know it says, “Meet me outside the school gym at 3:00 PM after school. We'll continue this discussion in someplace more private.” 

While he reads that, I quickly jot another note down and keep talking at the same time. 

“The  reason being is I don't want you involved in this issue any further.  The health and safety of my fellow students is my chief concern. If it  turns out this cyberbully is some sick psycho, I don't want you in  further danger. Meanwhile, I will make sure I take the appropriate  precautions.” 

I slide another note to him. It says, “Bring your bugged cellphone with you, but make sure you turn it off just before you come. Nod to me once if you'll agree to meet me after school.” 

I  wait for his response, to which he looks back and nods. He also smiles a  bit. My subtle tactics in communicating with him boost his confidence  in me, which is precisely where I need his mindset at this moment. 

I  collect my hands in front of my face as I rest my elbows on my desk.  During this time, I peer at Button Mash sharply. “I need you to  understand something, Button Mash. I will not rest until I get to the  bottom of this mystery. If someone is threatening you and making you  feel uncomfortable at this school, then that person is now my enemy. On  this, you have my word. Now may I have your word that you'll leave this issue to me?” 

For  a moment Button does not know what to do or say until I silently nod to  him, then he says, “Ah . . . sure. I think I can do that.” 

“Good,” I reply. “Leave this issue up to the professionals. 

“In  the meantime, if you get any more texts from this bully, do me a favor  and ignore them. I'll get this issue resolved before she can do any more  harm to you, the rest of your fellow students, or anyone else you care  about. 

“Again,  I thank you for bringing this to my attention. For now, you are  dismissed. Just go back to class and take care of your own business.  We'll take over from here.” 

“Sure.” Button stands up. “Thank you for hearing me out. I feel a lot better.” 

“That's  what I'm here for.” I stare at him with a hidden dark glint in my eyes.  “You have nothing more to worry about. I’ll take care of everything.” 




* * * 



 


“Here  you go,” I say as I arrive at the prearranged destination. I find  Button Mash is already there, waiting for me on a bench on the outside  of the gym. When he looks at me, I hand him an apple juice carton. “I  bought this for you. I hope you like it.” 

He checks it, then his eyes light up. “Apple juice?! Thank you!” he cheers. “This is one of my favorites.” 

“Huh.” I sit down next to him and pull out an orange soda from my purse. As I open it, I say, “Lucky guess, I suppose.” 

Not really. I watch his YouTube  channels enough to know what his drink is. Button Mash has made that  abundantly clear. He should be a sponsor for the darn thing. 

But I'll let him think that I got “lucky”. 

He stabs a straw into the juice carton then takes a long sip. When he's done, he gives a long, satisfying sigh. 

“Thanks,” he says gratefully. “I needed that.” 

“I  figured you did,” I agree. I take a sip of my own soda, then speak to  him again. “Thanks for coming, and thank you for your discretion. I  really am grateful that you brought this issue to my attention.” 

“Do you really think your office is bugged?” he asks me in horrified awe. 

“It's  a distinct possibility,” I tell him as I look forward at nothing in  particular. “How else did this 'Shadow Queen' know you were talking to  me? She apparently sent you that text message mere moments after you  confessed your involvement with her.” 

Button  looks down sadly. “Don't get me wrong. I am grateful to finally have an  ally in this cause, but . . . you have no idea what it cost me.” 

“What does she have over you, anyway?” I ask him in concern as I turn my head to look at him to my left side. 

Button  shakes his head. “It's not me, it's my mom. She has . . . um . . .  pictures of my mom that might get her in trouble with work.” He sighs in  frustration. “I'd rather not say anything more about that.” 

“Huh.” I look forward. “I wonder how she got those pictures.” 

“Maybe  photoshopped?” Button guesses. “Or perhaps she blackmailed some other  poor sap to gather dirt on my mom. For all I know, she has an entire web  of minions working under her disposal to dig dirt on each other in  order to keep them in line.” 

BINGO! We have a winner here, ladies and gentleman! 

I feel like applauding him, but of course, I don't. I can't blow my cover. 

“In  regards to that,” I look back at him. “I have a plan. Despite what I  said to you in my office, I want you to contact this 'Shadow Queen' and  attempt to appease her.” 

He looks at me in confusion. “But you said-” 

“I know what I said in my office! I said that because I figured she was eavesdropping on us. I figured I needed to feed her false information now that I know she's listening.” 

Button widens his eyes at me in realization. “Oh! I get it now! Man, you are clever!” 

Despite  my sitting down position, I set my soda aside for a moment and curtsy  to him a bit. “I'm not a certified genius for nothing. 

“Anyway,  as I was saying, despite what I said in my office, I want you to  contact her soon and pretend to appease her. Tell her something like . .  . oh, I don't know . . . that you said all those things in my office to  try to win my trust.” 

“Win your trust?” Button lifts an eyebrow at me. 

“Look.”  I focus on him sharply. “Obviously she's interested in me for some  reason. Likely it's because of my position as Student Council President,  or perhaps this hacker is interested in manipulating my mother.” I rub  my chin. “She is the school principal of Canterlot High, after all.” 

“Why should I try to appease her? She already knows I betrayed her.” 

“Yes, but if she uses the evidence she's gathered against your mom, she loses leverage to manipulate you any further. She can only use that weapon against you once, which is why I’m willing to bet that she hasn’t done it yet. 

“If I was her,” which I am,  of course, “I think she'd pause and reassess her strategy. If she's as  smart as I think she is, she'll see your attempted treachery as a  potential opportunity. Your treachery notwithstanding, your foot is in the door in my office, and that is key to winning her renewed interest in you. 

“I  think her first instinct would be to try to find other kinds of  evidence against you in order to try to gain control over you again unless you suddenly seem to lose your nerve and try to cooperate with her again. Then  she'd look at you and think, 'Huh. Maybe my previous leverage against  him is enough after all. I don't need to gather, or create, more dirt on him. 

“‘As  it stands, I can use his actions to turn the tide to my favor, as long  as he cooperates,' is probably what she’d say to herself.” 

“I see!” He looks away as he agrees excitedly, “This could work!” He looks back at me in concern. “However . . . how long do I maintain this charade?” 

“For  now, we're just buying ourselves time,” I advise him. “If she tests  your loyalty by telling you to take other pictures and such then do so.  We have to protect your mom!” As I say that, I also pat his right knee. “She's an innocent victim in this. We can't let this bully harm her.” 

“But  the things she'll tell me to do will dig dirt on someone else,” Button  said with a frown. “I can't do that anymore. It's not right!” 

“That  evidence won't matter once we unmask her,” I reassure him. “As I said,  we're only buying ourselves time. Time we'll use to try to find out who  she is. Once we expose her, she won't be able to threaten anyone else  anymore, so the dirt you uncover for her won't matter in the long run.” 

“OH!” He widens his eyes in delight. “I get it now!” 

YES! Dance for your Queen, my little imbecile! Now you're working for both sides of me as Cozy and  The Shadow Queen. I’ll get twice as much value from you with half the  paycheck. That shall be your punishment for your attempted treachery. 

“Tell me,” I lean against the outside gym wall behind me, “what did she command you to do recently?” 

After I ask, I take another sip of my soda. 

Button  Mash collects his hands together in front of his face as he glares  forward with a focused look. His elbows are on his thighs and he hangs  his collected hands downward. 

“She wanted me to talk to Sweetie Belle about Diamond Tiara,” he answers. 

“Diamond  Tiara?” I echo. “Hmm.” I look thoughtful. “Diamond is one of my staff  members. Maybe the Shadow Queen is trying to dig dirt up about Tiara.  Once she has that, maybe she was planning on putting Tiara in her pocket  so that she can use Diamond to go after a bigger fish. Namely, me.” 

I look outward. 

“Although  . . . both Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon's family are very wealthy.  They might be a prize unto themselves,” I muse aloud further. 

I look back at Button. 

“You said you worked for this Shadow Queen for some fifteen months? Why did you wait so long before coming to me?” 

Button looked down in regret as he said, “Because I was afraid of her. I didn't want her to hurt my mom.” 

I  squint at him in confusion as I ask, “In that case, why change your  mind now? If she still has leverage over your mom, why did you finally  come to me?” 

A  look of anger burns in Button's eyes as he says, “Because it's now  apparent to me that she's trying to gather dirt on Sweetie Belle as  well, and I can't stand that!” 

“Sweetie Belle?” I raise an eyebrow at Button. “Do you like her or something? As in like-like her?” 

He suddenly seems morose as he looks away from me. “Sweetie Belle and I . . . are not seeing each other anymore.” 

I cock my head at him as I ask, “But you used to?” 

He nods. 

“But you still care for her?” 

“More  than anything!” he exclaims as he looks back at me. “Sweetie Belle is .  . . well, for lack of a better term, sweet. She's like an angel!” His  eyes glaze in a dreamy way. 

“So,”  I lift an eyebrow further up, “let me get this straight. You care for  her, but she doesn't care for you? Why not? What's so wrong about you?” 

He  looks down and pouts. When it becomes evident to me that he won't  easily give up this information, I realize I need to do some prying. 

“Hey!” I pretend to realize. “Wait a second! I think I've seen you before! Aren't you the one who has the YouTube channel 'Button Plays'?” 

He looks at me suspiciously. “What? You didn't know that? I thought everyone at school knew that.” 

I shrug as I say, “I guess I hang around different social cliques. 

“Anyway, I think I do  finally recognize you, but I only watched some of your earlier videos.  Back then you were as cute as a button, if you’ll pardon the pun. You  were a goofy-looking kid who wore a spinning propeller, multi-color hat,  if memory serves me.” 

Button blushes shyly but also fondly. 

“Come  to think of it,” I press on as I put a folded finger to my chin,  “didn't Sweetie Belle used to play video games with you back then?” 

Button  gains a bittersweet smile lightly touching his lips. He says with  sincerity and rich emotion, “That was one of the best times of my life.” 

“Then . . . Why did she stop? What happened between you?” 

Now this question stems from genuine curiosity. This is something I wanted to know for a long time now. 

I do have my suspicions. I just want to see if he confirms them. 

He  sighs as he looks down sadly. For a moment I grow afraid that I've  pushed him too far and he won't cooperate, but then he says, “I . . .  confessed my feelings for her at one time. I told her I want her to be  my very special somebody.” 

“I take it she said no?” 

Button Mash closes his eyes in pain as he admits, “Not only that, she never spoke to me again.” 

He  looks at me with pain in his eyes. “I don't get it. Sweetie Belle and I  had such chemistry together. She truly did seem to have the time of her  life playing with me as well. I thought she was interested in being my  girlfriend too, but when I offered . . . not only did she turn me down,  but she never spoke to me again.” 

He placed his hands on his chest. “Is it me? Did I do something wrong? Was I too pushy to her? Did I hurt her feelings?” 

He closes his eyes and yells in frustration, “WHY DO GIRLS HAVE TO BE SO DAMN COMPLICATED?!” 

After a five second pause, I check, “Are you really asking me?” 

He looks down, sighs, shrugs, then says, “Not really, no, but you can answer if you want to.” 

I  gaze in my forward direction as I sip my soda for a few seconds, then  set it down as I sigh. “I heard that what men know about women wouldn't  fill a single page, let alone an entire book.” I look back at him. “But,  to be honest, women don't know much more about themselves than men do.  There is a reason we are complicated, and being us doesn't make those answers much clearer.” 

I  look down at my lap as I idly swing my legs under the bench. Since I'm  sitting far back on the bench, I am barely short enough to do so. 

I love my petite little body! It's so cute! 

“What I can tell you about what women know of themselves is . . . Well, actually, a better term is what women sense about themselves.” 

I look ahead and cross my arms across my chest. 

“Females connect with each other more on an instinctual and emotional level. We simply feel  a connection to each other. We look at our own kind, nod and think,  'Yeah. You understand me. You get it. You know what a literal bleeding  pain it is to be one of us. Stay strong, sister, and keep the course.' 

“However,  on a rational level, we are just as confused about ourselves as the men  are, so it's not a wonder to us why men are even more confused about us  than we are. At least we share an emotional connection to ourselves,  but an outsider looking inward at the situation would be totally lost.” 

I  look at Button as I reach a hand to pat his lap reassuringly as I say,  “I want you to know that I realize it’s not your fault. We really are  very complicated. If you could walk a mile in our skirts, you'd see  why.” 

I lift one of my arms and bend my pointing finger as it touches my lips. 

“On an intellectual level, which is my preferred method of understanding the world, I know a few reasons why we're so complicated. Part of it has to do with biology.” 

I  shift my eyes sharply to him as I ask, “I don't have to explain to you  about a female's reproductive cycles and how it works, right?” 

Button shakes his head. In fact, he vigorously shakes his head no. Apparently this is a subject he'd rather avoid. 

Yeah. Join the club. 

My gaze shifts forward again. 

“So  yeah, that's part of it. So much shifting chemistry goes through our  bodies that it can make many components of us turn turbulent, to say the  least. None of that is your fault. That's just how our bodies work. 

“The second rational reason that I know of which explains why we are so complicated is sociological.” 

My hand drops down and crosses over my chest again. 

“From what I understand, females are just too eager to please, so they change  themselves into however they perceive is socially acceptable. Whatever  their society defines as pretty or beautiful, so shall we be. We are  also carefully evaluating other qualities like smart or dumb or lazy or  childish or anything else, really. We conform ourselves to whatever will  most likely prevent social rejection, which is our secret number one  fear.” 

I look straight up. 

“Perhaps  this isn’t the case with all women. This world is complicated enough to  have an exception to every rule, but otherwise this one is pretty cut  and dry. We can't stand  the thought of social rejection. It terrifies us to the core, so we do  whatever we can to appease everyone else in order to prevent this  catastrophe.” 

I smile at him then affectionately pat his lap again. “So congratulations, Button Mash. Maybe 'mankind’ doesn't know much about women, but you do, now, at least if you were paying attention to me.” 

“Oh,  I was,” Button assures me. “But I still don't get it. What does all of  that have to do with why Sweetie Belle rejected me? What did I do  wrong?” 

I  shrug as I confess, “It’s probably nothing to do with you. The fault  may lie within her. Maybe she wanted to say yes but something else held  her back. As for why she's continued to avoid you since, I have a firmer  finger on this one. I think she's avoided you ever since for your sake.” 

“Me?!” he double-checks in intense surprise. 

“Yes,”  I confirm. “It's just a guess, mind you, but I think she avoided you  because she was afraid it would hurt your feelings otherwise. Every  second she'd spend in your company might remind you of the time you got  rejected.” 

I look forward as I realize I can actually sympathize with that rather strongly. 

“She couldn't stand the thought of her presence torturing you,” I go on, “so she opted to avoid you entirely. 

“As  the years went by, it simply became a habit. As walls build up, one  gradually forgets what it was like when those walls weren't there. Right  now I think it's a habit, but back then . . .” 

I hear Button sniffle. I look at him and notice that he's crying a bit. 

“Do you think any part of her misses me?” he asks me with a cracked voice due to the intensity of his emotions. 

“That is the silver lining that I can foresee here in this situation. I think the answer is very likely yes,” I admit honestly. 

“Really?” Button asks me with so much rising hope that it honestly does make my heart feel mushy. 

I nod to him. “Deep down, I think she wonders if you miss her, too, and she's hoping the answer is yes.” 

I sigh as I look down at my lap. 

“One thing I do know about being a girl is we get very  emotionally attached to things, even if it hurts us. Most of us  struggle to let go. Very few of us succeed in totally severing strong  emotional attachments, even if it really pisses us off!” 

Like my relationship with Little Miss Prissy! I still can't wait to tear her heart out! 

“We  think about such things all the time, even if we don't like to admit  it. We hate feeling vulnerable, yet we feel that way all the time.  That's just . . .” I shrug. “I don't know. There could be all sorts of  reasons. Likely there are plenty mixed in together.” 

I look back at him. 

“My point is, if you shared a very special bond with her before . . . if you know for sure  in your heart that her laughter and delight in her eyes was genuine . .  . then I almost guarantee you that she hasn't figured out how to let  you go, even if part of her strongly wanted to all these years. It's  just that . . . once those strings of emotion are connected to our  hearts, we really don't know how to shake them off. That's part of our vulnerability, but there are advantages to it too.” 

“So you honestly think I have a shot with Sweetie?” Button asks with a much stronger glow of hope. 

“I  advise caution!” I strongly warn him. “After all, we don't know why she  rejected you in the first place. Until that issue is resolved, you have  no shot at getting under her skirt.” 

He squints in disgust at me. “I don't want to rape her! I love Sweetie Belle! I always have!” 

“Then  be patient and careful with her,” I advise. “You might have a shot at  becoming friends with her again, but don't push your luck beyond that  point until she signals that she's ready. Until then just . . . just be  with her. Listen to her. Encourage her. Tell her you miss her. Tell her  you want to be her friend again and you won't go any further than that  unless she wishes it.” 

I pick up and squeeze one of his hands. 

“Make her feel your affection. Make her feel special. All girls want to feel that way.” 

“Including you?” Button checks. 

I  grin at him sharply then admit, “Put it this way. I haven't given a  serious relationship much thought before because of how busy I am with  my own personal ambitions, but I already know one thing about myself. If  I was in a serious relationship, I know for a fact that I'd be a very  high maintenance girl. I'm talking about flowers, chocolates, kisses,  schmaltzy complements, the works. If anyone is going to be my boyfriend, then he'd better treat me like a Queen as if every day is Valentine's Day. 

“In addition, I'd almost demand nearly constant reassurance that I'm the most important girl in his life. 

“I may not seem like this because I try very hard to hide this fact, but I'm secretly very insecure, so I'd need that constant reassurance.” 

I'm not lying. 

For  a moment, I wonder why I'm being that honest with him, then I recall  the fact that I'm trying to win his trust. Sometimes the truth can be  just as effective, if not more so, as a clever lie. 

I  grin to myself as I realize that, although I would most likely be a  high maintenance girl, the would-be boyfriend would get a strong return  on his investment. Since I'm the one who will one day rule the world,  he's actually getting a pretty sweet deal. 

“Well, from what I can see, you'd make all that effort worth it,” Button tells me with a fond smile at me. 

Which  actually makes me blush. I am surprised how profound that complement  feels. It also made me realize that Button is a pretty charming fellow  in his own way. 

I decide to return the compliment. 

“And I'm sure you'd make your girlfriend the luckiest girl in the world,” I tell him with another affectionate pat on his hand. 

He looks away from me for a second, then looks back with a thoughtful look. “So wait a second. You want me to convince the Shadow Queen that I'm attempting to . . . what . . . woo you or something?” 

Damn it, I blush again! He's like a sneak attack love ninja! 

But I also shake my head. 

“No. What I said is for you to convince her that you are winning my trust,  not my heart. That's overkill. Besides,” I wave him off, “I think she's  convinced that you have the hots for Sweetie. She'd find it suspicious  if you suddenly changed targets and aimed under my skirt all of the  sudden.” 

He shook his head fiercely. “For the last time, I'm not trying to rape any of you. I'm trying to love you. There is a difference. Either path could lead to sex, but one of them doesn't have to. Even if it does, it's for a totally different reason.” 

He looks away with a dreamy expression. 

“I want my girlfriend to feel like she is the most special person in the world, because she is  to me. I want to be the reason she has such intense joy in her life. I  want her to be happy and feel fulfilled, even if I'm not part of her  life because, to me, her happiness is all that matters to me.” 

I  can't believe what I am hearing. Affection without expecting a return  on investment? I can't accept that. He must be lying to me. 

I got to admit, though, it does sound really romantic. I can feel my heart aflutter at those words despite my disbelief. 

Wow!  I might have underestimated this guy. Good to know. It means he's even  more of a useful resource to me than I previously calculated. I'll  adjust my math accordingly to parallel my enhanced perception of him. 

“I'll  make things easier for you,” I propose. “You and I should hang out more  after school. If the Shadow Queen somehow spots us, she'll think you're  trying to get information out of me. As long as you feed that to her, that should shut her up which, in turn, means your mom should remain safe. Meanwhile the real  reason we'll hang out at date spots like movies or a dinner is to  discuss plans on how to unravel this mystery. We'll work to expose this  criminal together.” 

“Shouldn't  we go to the police with this information?” Button suggests. “It seems  to me this person is responsible for half a dozen crimes already.” 

I shake my head vigorously. “What exactly are we going to tell the police? You have no evidence yet. 

“Well, I do since I took a picture of your text, but the rest of yours deleted themselves. 

“Plus, who are they going to arrest? They won't know who the culprit is any more than we do.” 

“That's true,” Button agrees reluctantly. 

I lean back, look forward, and tap my head against the wall behind me. 

“There's  another problem as well. If the police start poking around at our  school, the most likely response is this hacker will just go further  underground.” 

“Isn't  that a good thing, in a way? Sure, she won't pay for her previous  crimes, but if she goes underground then that might mean she's no longer  hurting anybody either.” 

“That's shortsighted of you in two ways. 

“Number  one, there's no guarantee she'll remain low. Once the police  investigation blows over, she may rise back with a vengeance. I can't  risk the fact that someone might get physically harmed next time. I'd be  especially concerned for your safety if it seems as if you are the one  who put the police on her tail. 

“Number two, have you ever considered the fact that Sunset Shimmer was one of her most recent victims?” 

Button's  eyes burst open widely, then he admits, “NO! I HAVEN'T!” He looks  suddenly thoughtful. “But now I am. It all makes sense! I know Sunny. It  actually turns out I played with her online for quite a long time.” 

“Really?” I ask in feigned surprise. 

He nods in confirmation. “I just found that out last month. That was a shocker. It turns out she had her own YouTube channel called 'Girl_Gamer_Rocks'.” 

I  smile as I say, “Heh, I like that name! It's kind of catchy, and it  shows that girls can be every bit as capable as men at video games.” 

“She proved it! She literally has tons of video evidence of that!” Button says proudly. 

“Anyway,”  he goes on with an obvious change of subject in this tone, “why do you  think the hacker went after Sunset Shimmer? She didn't just threaten  Sunny, she sent her to jail with obviously fake evidence. Sunset would never do that to her students! She'd not even think that!” 

“THANK YOU!” I exclaim at him strongly and sincerely. “Finally I find one of my fellow students willing to give Sunny the benefit of the doubt.” 

“Sunny  didn't give me that much of a choice. It makes me sick to my stomach  that people are still treating her like a demon! She did that one time but it's as if she purged it from her system, because she's been nothing but a saint ever since.” 

Real  tears rise to my eyes. I lift up one of his hands to my lips and kiss  it, then press my face against it affectionately. This really catches  him off guard and probably also weirds him out, but I don't care. In the  rare times I get hyper-emotional, I just have to let those feelings pour out of me. 

“Thank  you so much!” I cry into his hand. “You have no idea how much it hurts  me when I hear others talk shit about Sunny! I have never encountered a  more compassionate angel incarnate than her. Her friends come close,  including my mother, but Sunny is . . . radiant.” 

Button  Mash's newfound understanding for the reasons behind my emotions makes  it much easier for him to forgive my actions. In fact, he's now deeply  sympathetic. 

So much so that he crawls closer and hugs me to my side. 

I  do not resist. Instead, I sob into his shoulder. Explosive emotions  that have been building in my chest are released like a crack in the  dam. 

The  way Button Mash squeezes me in comfort makes me feel warm and safe. I  grow surprised to find a sudden glow of tender affection start to grow  for him because of this one action alone. It demonstrates that he really  cares about me and also deeply sympathizes with my feelings about  Sunny. He must have been hurting about this too, and I appreciate  noticing that. It makes my emotions feel validated. 

Finally, I don't feel alone. 

When  the moment passes fifteen minutes later, I feel drained, but not  severely enough for my sharp intellect to sink away. Instead, it's  merely reduced a bit. 

“You're  right,” Button finally says to me. “We have to do this investigation  ourselves or else the culprit might slink away. If that happens, we  might lose our chance to find the evidence we need to vindicate Sunny.  So, from now on, we're not just protecting those she might victimize  later, we're fighting to save those she has already harmed and is  continuing to harm.” 

“Exactly,” I agree. 

“Who do you think would benefit from Sunny's arrest?” 

I  sniff, still trying to recover. I pull out my inhaler and breathe that  in. That helps expand my collapsed lungs and chest. I answer after I  expel that breath. 

“The way I see it, it might go one of two ways. 

“Number  one, maybe the culprit tried to blackmail Sunny but, like you, she had  too much integrity and the culprit badly underestimated that.” 

I'll give you that much credit, Button Mash. That much is actually true, but for some reason, I respect you all the more for it. 

“Maybe  Sunset was about to come forward with the evidence she had. Fearing the  worst, the culprit planted false evidence on her computer somehow to  get her out of the way once and for all. Now, no matter how much she  whines and complains in jail, Sunset Shimmer lost too much credibility  for almost anyone to seriously listen to her. 

“But there is another angle to look at here. 

“Number  two, Sunset Shimmer was never blackmailed, she was framed because  someone personally feared her and her Horse-Land magic.” 

“Oh  yeah!” Button realizes. “In fact, Sunny wasn't born human at all.  Unlike all of her friends who also use magic, Sunset Shimmer is the only  one who was born a horse in . . . um, it's called 'Equestria', my dear.” 

I wave him off. “I know that. I just prefer to call it 'Horse-Land'.” 

He shrugs carelessly and says, “Whatever. To each, their own.” 

“I’m  afraid that Sunny is only the beginning, too,” I announce in feigned  fear. “She simply might be the first victim because, like you said,  Sunny was the only one of her friends who wasn't truly human. 

“Nevertheless, she's only the first piece of the dominos to get knocked over, at least if this sinister villains' plans come to fruition. Pinkie Pie, Applejack, Rarity, Rainbow Dash, Fluttershy,  and my mother might be the culprit’s next victims. I can't say for sure  which order she'll follow, but if she's already making moves against  Diamond Tiara, it might be to get to me. Once she has leverage over me,  she'll try to use it to blackmail my mother. If I were her, I'd use that  hold over my mother to undo her other friends and then take my mother out.” 

Just  saying that makes me shudder. I know I'm bullshitting the hell out of  him right now, but that thought still unsettles me anyway. If anyone out  there has this plan for real, I would use everything in my power to  blast the offender to oblivion. 

“I guess there were  a lot of people who were unusually aggressive against Sunny during that  awful press conference,” Button realizes. “Those people were probably  afraid of her and were pleased at a chance to chew her out at last.” 

I shake my head as I say, “I can believe that even if they weren't the direct culprits. This world will always have small-minded bigots who can't see beyond their own faces.” 

“True,” Button agrees sadly, then looks at me with determination. “Which is why the world also needs us!” 

“Indeed,”  I agree, “but keep it between us for now. We can't be certain who else  might be involved with the Shadow Queen. Even if they are victims, they  still might report our actions if we let anyone else into this circle.  Never underestimate fear. It can be a powerful weapon.” 

“Believe  me, I experienced that first hand for fifteen months. I'm so ashamed  that I did not do this much sooner, but I desperately want to protect my  mom.” 

I smile at him softly. “You're a good man, Button Mash. Be proud of that.” 

He gives me a halfhearted smile. “Good? Yes. Brave? Unfortunately, not that much.” 

I lift my eyebrow at him as I ask, “Did it take you courage to confess your involvement to me?” 

“Um . . . yes.” 

I grab his shirt and suddenly yank him close as if I am going to kiss him, but instead I give him a hard look in his eyes. 

For two reasons, he's caught off guard by this. 

“Then listen to me closely!” I say in a demanding tone. “Don't ever  forget that, Button Mash! You came to me because you loved someone so  dearly that you risked everything to confess your involvement. As a  reward for that bravery, I will now fight by your side.” 

And,  ironically, I’ll fight against you at the same time. You still have no  idea you're actually talking to the culprit right now, and I’ll make  sure you remain ignorant of that fact. 




* * * 



 


Button Mash waves goodbye  to me strongly and gratefully before he takes off. Unlike the first  time he stepped into my office earlier today, Button Mash bounds away  from me with newfound confidence in his steps because he realizes that he finally has an ally that he can trust. Finally he feels like his life is back on track. Finally he can feel the weight of many moons of pressure melting off his back. He's taking a stand for what he believes in. 

I've  known him to be brave to a degree for years when it comes to video  games, but I'm surprised as hell how much that strength transferred to  real life. I thought he lived a sheltered and deluded life because of  his lifestyle which is skewed from reality. Who knew how strong he could  actually be? 

I even suspect he surprised himself today. 

And  now, finally, he has given me what I secretly wanted. It turns out he  already did hang out with Sweetie Belle a bit, and he managed to squeeze  one bit of information from her about Diamond Tiara. I already knew  that Diamond practiced bulimia nervosa, but  now that I have a more legitimate source of information of that fact, I  can finally confront Diamond about it and force my way into her life. 

Once  I start worming my way into her inner social circles, I'll corrupt it  from the inside. All the while, I'll make myself look like her only hero  and friend. 

It's the beginning of the end for you, Little Miss Prissy! 

Checkmate! Game set and match! Now I can finally advance my plans to the next phase. 

Oh god! I've waited so long to tell myself that! 

Unexpectedly, a message pops up on the hidden screen side of my augment reality glasses. 



Dark King: GOOOOD! The next phase of your vengeance is nigh. 

Dark King: The poor fool doesn't even know how far he's entangled in your shadowy web. 

Dark King: Bear this in mind always. Use your minions only as long as they are useful, then discard them. 



I gasp in astonishment. 

Oh SHIT! That dream was REAL?! 

Ten seconds later, Dark King's text erases itself.
> Chapter Twenty One: Rarity Investigates
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

There! It's done. Now all I have to do is click print. 

I proceed to do so. After that, I lean back in my seat in my office. I pull off my glasses and rub my face with both hands. 

The school assembly is in a few hours. Normally I wouldn't make a speech so last minute, but I've had a lot on my mind lately. 

I set my arms on the arms of my chair and lean back while looking up at the ceiling. 

The  image of Sunset Shimmer's horrified look of disbelief as she looked  back and forth between reporters still haunts me. I feel my chest close  up as I recall how Sunset later wept into her hands, feeling totally  broken. 

My chest heaves. My eyes water a bit. My face scrunches up in pain. 

Man,  I knew this would hurt, but I am surprised that this feeling has lasted  this long and remained this intense. If anything, I feel worse  as time goes on. I'm growing concerned that these increasing pains will  eventually compromise my productivity. It's hard enough to be perfect as it is. I don't need it to be extra challenging. 

I  am startled when I hear a call on my desk. I look at it in shock while  suddenly breathing hard. After that, I close my eyes and try to calm  down. I take a few calming breaths, then reach over to answer the call  by putting it on speakerphone. 

“This is Cozy. What's sup?” I ask when I answer it. 

“Um,  I got one Miss Rarity here to see you,” Scribble Dee reports. “She says  she's here to investigate 'incongruities', as she calls it, about her  friend Sunset's case. Should I let her in? And no, she doesn't technically have an appointment, but no one else does either right now.” 

I squint one eye at the phone. 

Rarity  is here to investigate her friend Sunset's case? That seems like a  pretty random action for the fashionista. The only part of that  statement that makes any sense is Rarity's motive to free Sunset, but  still . . . becoming a detective personally? Really? She seems more like the type that would hire one instead. 

Besides,  she should still be busy in college right now. I heard she was making a  lot of progress on that too by turning some heads in the fashion  industry. 

I shake my head in bewilderment at this unexpected situation. 

This almost feels like a joke, but I might as well find out how far her “investigation” is coming along. Who knows. Maybe I can also throw her a bone or lead her off track if she gets too close. 

I really can't believe I'm saying this, but . . . 

“Ah, sure Scribble. That sounds swell! Go ahead and send her in.” 

“Very good, Ma'am. I'll send her to . . . and she's off.” 

Right after Scribble says that, I hear a knock on my office door. 

“Thanks for the report. Good job, Scribble,” I commend her. 

“Just doing my job!” Scribble says brightly. “Over and out.” 

She hangs up. I click my speakerphone off to then call to the door, “You can come in.” 

My  doorknob turns then swings widely open, but Rarity does not immediately  cross the threshold. Instead, she pauses just beyond the door to . . .  dramatically pose? 

Yeah, that's what she's doing. I can't describe it as anything else. 

Just  beyond the door, I see Rarity wearing a very noir style tan trench coat  and sporting a wide brim hat on her head that's a bit dipped at the  front. The hat is gray which makes the pink ribbon tied around it stand  out quite a bit. The dip of that hat covers the right side of her eye.  As for her left, she gazes at me with a focused look which seems overly  dramatic and staged. 

“Behold,  Rarity has entered the scene . . . with a purpose!” Rarity dramatically  declares as she places her hands on her hips and twists her stance  towards me sideways. Her hips are also angled with the left side above the right. 

I fight off the temptation to give a listless sigh. I am quickly getting annoyed with Rarity's attitude right now. She claims she came here to “investigate” her friend  Sunny's case and yet she's acting like a stupid bitch who thinks she's  on a television show that is supposed to have bad acting. This is a  mockery for those who practice this profession legitimately and,  frankly, it's also in bad taste considering how serious this issue  should be. 

I reach on my desk to put on my glasses again. After I do so, I am momentarily startled because it has a new text message on it. 



Dark King: Stop embarrassing us and pull yourself together already! Find out what she knows then send this idiot on her way. 



Before my very eyes, the text message erases itself shortly after I read it. 

Rarity apparently notices my face grow ashen for a brief moment, but I shake it off. 

“Um, yeah. Please come in, Miss Belle,” I invite her. 

“Thank you.” Rarity steps in, then asks, “Are you okay, darling? You look like you've just seen a ghost.” 

“Oh, it’s . . . nothing,” I reply. 

My  eyes grow wide when I both hear and see a tiny drone follow Rarity into  my office. This thing is black and had a very close configuration to a  typical cellphone except for the fact it is three times as thick. It is  making a decently loud buzzing sound as it flies across my room,  apparently filming the area. 

“I  hope you don't mind if me and my,” Rarity closes a fist in front of her  lips for a second as she clears her throat, then adds, “companion take a  look around your office?” 

“Um . . . sure?” I look at the curious little drone while lifting an eyebrow at it. 

The  drone sweeps back and forth across the room, primarily aimed at the  walls for the moment. It seems to pause in order to take a picture of  each picture and trophy I have hung on my wall. 

I pass a curious look to Rarity. “But why would you be so interested in my office?” 

“Oh,  just standard part of any investigation, darling,” Rarity answers as  she pulls out her cellphone from her pocket and types something on it. I  notice a slight change in her drone's behavior when she finishes. 

“One of my favorite series of mystery novels I like to read, the 'Adventures of Shadow Spade',”  Rarity went on to say, “believes that everything comes to attention to  detail. It is a philosophy that I have adopted as well. Whether that  means keeping an eye out for any flaws in fashion or noticing something peculiar during an investigation, one must always pay close attention.” 

I feel sick to my stomach. Rarity is really pissing me off right now. I still manage to pass her my trade-mark wide fake smile, but I secretly feel like slapping her so hard. 

“I  see,” I say casually. “Golly, that sure is fascinating! You go ahead  and explore my office to your heart's content. I have nothing to hide.” I  cock my head at her. “But aren’t you supposed to be investigating  Sunny's case? What's my office have to do with it? Did I do something  wrong? Or do you think the culprit was here?” 

“Oh,  think nothing of it. This is just standard fanfare,” Rarity says as she  roams the room while taking pictures herself using her own cellphone. 

While  her back is towards me, I pass her a series of mocking facial  expressions which immediately wipe away into a happy mask the moment she  turns to face me. Curiously, I notice Rarity narrow her left visible  eye at me slightly. 

“Tell  me, Cozy, have you noticed anything . . .” she wistfully waves a hand  in a circle beside her. In this case, the opposite hand that's holding  her cellphone. “. . . peculiar lately?” 

I cock my head at her and give an innocent shrug. “Peculiar? What do you mean?” 

Rarity's visible eye got shifty for a second as she asked, “What I mean is has anything ever seemed . . . out of place recently?” 

“Anything? Well gee, Miss Rarity, I'm sure there are lots of things that seem out of place in the world.” 

“Any of those things happen in your office lately?” Rarity checks. 

I suddenly realize she's fishing for specific information, so I ask her, “Like what?” 

“Well,  I don't know.” Rarity glances to her side and notices her own drone fly  near her. When it faces her for two seconds, Rarity poses in front of  it again. She places her left hand behind her neck and gives a seductive  but also a mysterious expression to the camera. I hear it take a  picture. Rarity changes her pose to seeming to bite the corner of her  cellphone while looking at the drone with a provocative expression.  Again, the drone takes a picture then flies on. 

As  my eyes follow the drone, I estimate that it might have up to ten  minutes of energy tops. Something that tiny can't be carrying a lot of  power in it, and it takes a lot for those things to fly. 

“For example,” Rarity began again, “have any members of your staff been behaving strangely lately?” 

“Well,  let me think.” I tap my fingers on the arms of my chair, then pretend  to have an idea. “Oh! I know! Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon have been  all huffy at each other lately, and that is  strange. They used to be solid friends, but something came between them  lately. Also, Diamond seems especially depressed, but I don't know why. 

“Gee willikers, do you think the culprit that framed Sunny had something to do with that?” 

“I don't know yet, but I am determined to leave no stone unturned.” 

“You do believe that Sunny is innocent, don't you Miss Rarity?” I check. 

“Yes of course, darling. Why would I be investigating if I believed otherwise?” 

I fold  my hands in front of my lips to hide my frown as I say, “Well gee, I  mean no offense when I say this but, just because you dress up like an  investigator, doesn't mean you actually are one.” 

Rarity waves me off. “Oh, I know. What a good  investigator does is pay careful attention to his or her environment  and follow the clues, then evoke deductive reasoning based on what is  uncovered, but hey! If I'm going to work on something like this then I  might as well dress the part. There is no reason I can't continue my  investigation while simultaneously looking fabulous! 

“Besides, this is giving me new ideas for a fashion line, hence the occasional pictures.” 

I can't hide it anymore. I give her droll eyes. “Well golly, if it were me in your place, I'd take the situation seriously. Sunny's freedom and reputation is at stake.” 

Rarity  looks at me with a bit of an offended expression as she says, “Yes, of  course I know that. That's what I have been doing.” 

While she approaches my desk, she types up something on her cellphone. 

Meanwhile that loud and obnoxious drone of hers keeps flying about my office and taking pictures of everything. 

“Take  a look at this.” Rarity places her cellphone on my desk. I grab it and  flip it around. On it, I notice it's a video footage of one of our  school hallways. While I examine it, she asks me, “Do you see anything  amiss with this footage?” 

At first  I shake my head no, but then I notice something. “Well . . . according  to the time stamp on the bottom right corner, this footage was taken two  days before Sunny was arrested.” I look up at her. “But this doesn't  vindicate her, does it?” 

“Not  by itself, no,” Rarity agrees. “But, in a way, you're onto something.”  She points at her cellphone. “That video footage is on a fifteen second  time loop. Take a close look at the time stamp. Do you see anything  amiss?” 

I  pay close attention to it, then notice a brief blip. I look up at her  and say, “I think the time stamp glitched out for a brief second, but  that's to be expected with digital cameras these days. Nothing is  perfect.” 

“That's  true. Glitches do happen.” Rarity rolls her eyes. From this distance, I  can see a thick, bluish eye shadow on her eyelids. “But check this  out.” She bends forward, pauses the video, then swipes it to the side.  It shows another hallway. Rarity presses play on that one. As she places  both of her hands on my desk and leans on it, she asks, “What do you  notice about this footage?” 

Taking the hint, I pay attention to the time stamp. It, too, blips. 

I look up at her. “Same thing. This camera glitched too, but we just established that it is a common phenomenon.” 

“True again,” Rarity agrees. “Except this 'blip' occurs exactly five minutes after the last one.” 

I  widen my eyes at her. “What? Really?” I look back at her cellphone. I  flip back and forth between both videos and study the time stamp more  carefully. I pretend to do some calculations in my head, but I already  know where this is going. 

“So  . . . the second blip occurs five minutes after the last one.” I set  her phone down on my desk as I lean back and think. I absently snatch my  Baoding  balls and rotate them in my right palm. “This might be an indication  that the footage was tampered with. Perhaps they were replaced by  earlier footage when the hallways were empty, but that was only to hide  the fact that someone was  roaming the hallways at that time.” I widen my eyes in feigned  astonishment. “GOLLY! That was the same day as the campus-wide fire  safety drill!” 

“Exactly!”  Rarity concurs as she leans forward for a second for emphasis. “Our  devious little culprit knew that the school would be evacuated for about  forty-five minutes. During that time, the campus was unguarded except  for the cameras, and they just happen to glitch in a straight pattern which leads to Sunset Shimmer's classroom?” 

I widen my eyes even further. “They do?!” 

Rarity  stands up straight while she casts an almost judgmental look down at  me. “I believe in coincidences, darling. I really do. Despite the path  line and the timing, all of this could  have been an accidental coincidence. I would have believed that if it  weren't for one other incongruity . . . check out the lighting in the  video footage. Do you notice anything strange about it?” 

Okay, damn! Now  I'm impressed with her. I calculated only a two percent chance that  anyone would notice the fact that the lighting situation would be off.  How the hell was I supposed to know that a serious investigator would be  sent on this case, and that it would be Rarity of all people? 



Dark King: Hmm. This one is surprisingly sharp. We may have to consider her disposal as well. 



Oh be quiet, Figment of my Imagination! 

Besides, I'm not licked yet. Where you might only see a threat, I see opportunity. 

I  pretend to study the video footage for a moment then feign surprise as I  seem to notice something peculiar. I look back at Rarity. 

“'Adventures of Shadow Spade',  you said?” Rarity nods smugly in response, so I continue. “Huh. I might  have to check her out. Any mystery novel series that inspires you to be  this competent of an investigator might actually be worth my time.” 

“Oh believe me, she's well worth your time,” Rarity agrees. “Just like me, she has a keen eye for fashion as well. You'd be amazed  how many clues can hang on one's own clothes. A tiny wrinkle or a  breadcrumb on a tie or chocolate stain on a scarf can tell whole  stories.” 

Note to self: Check out the 'Adventures of Shadow Spade' for real. I'll need to do that just to get a read on this new anomaly in my way. 

Besides, it would give me something to do to take my mind off of Shimmy. 

“Okay,  so,” I lean forward in my seat, “the lighting of each footage is off.  It turns from a gloomy day to a bright and sunny one when the footage is  replaced in each video.” 

“Bingo!” Rarity confirms, then she grins. “I might make a decent investigator out of you yet.” 

“So,” I tap my desk, “we know that the video footage has been tampered with on the day of the fire drill. The blip on the timestamps partially verifies  that, and the glitch occurs in a path line to Sunset Shimmer’s  classroom during a rare moment that it is unguarded. Our perp must have  used that opportunity to upload something onto Sunset Shimmer’s computer  in order to frame her. Two days later, the cops show up to arrest her.” 

“Possibly downloaded something as well,” Rarity points out. “Do you know what was so special about that particular computer?” 

I  nod. “Indeed, I do. Mother told me that it is magical. She said it has a  special link to Horse-Land which allows Sunny to commune with some of  the residents there.” 

“Somebody  went through a lot of trouble to get a hold of that information,”  Rarity said. She doesn't even sound like she's guessing. “On top of  that, that person then planted  information on the computer to make sure nobody else gathers the same  data.” Rarity points at one of my walls very dramatically by using  sharp, sudden movements. “That computer is now sitting in an evidence  locker at a police station even as we speak! It's much more guarded now  than it was before.” 

“So we have a hacker at school,” I say with a blank look as I stare forward numbly. 

Rarity raises an eyebrow as she says, “You look like you've just had an epiphany, darling.” 

My  vision focuses back on Rarity as I say, “Just yesterday, Button Mash  came to my office and complained about cyber-bullying from a hacker  named 'The Shadow Queen'.” 

Rarity  looks taken aback as she asks, “Really?” For some reason this  information really surprises her. Considering how on point she's been so  far,  I’m surprised that she's surprised. I thought, by now, that she might  have caught wind of this on her own; therefore, I am not volunteering  new information to her. 

I nod. “Button said that he's been pressured, indeed blackmailed,  into investigating Diamond Tiara. According to this mysterious hacker,  she was convinced that Sweetie Belle might have known some new  information about Diamond.” I lean back in my seat as I lift an eyebrow  at Rarity just a bit. “I don't suppose that you have noticed anything amiss about Sweetie, have you? She is your sister, after all, so I thought it might be worth checking.” 

“No, I have not.” Rarity looks alarmed. “Why? What's wrong with Sweetie Belle? The only thing I  know is she's been unusually quiet lately. I check on her every now and  then online. Usually she happily brags or complains about something, but she's been rather withdrawn lately. 

“Why do you ask? Do you know something amiss with my darling baby sister?” 

I  don't think I should expose Button's secret about Sweetie's secret who  is keeping Diamond's secret about her health problems. Instead, I decide  to take a more evasive stance in this case. 

“I'm  not sure.” I rub my lips with a finger. “It's just a hunch, but I  suspect Sweetie has discovered something about Diamond which really  disturbs her. I'm growing concerned for her so I was thinking about  calling both Sweetie and Diamond to my office shortly. I want to get to  the bottom of this issue and find out what's going on between them. 

“Besides,”  I collect my fingers in front of my lips, “if this Shadow Queen wants  to know what's going on between them then I want to know before  she knows.” How ironic is that statement? “I think this hacker is going  to find out one way or another but, if I can get a hold of that  information first, it might give me a tactical edge. Maybe it may help  me in unmasking the secret identity to this villain.” 

I focus on Rarity as I go on. 

“It also occurred to me that this hacker might be the one responsible for framing Sunny. Question is . . . why?” 

“Indeed.” Rarity sweeps an eye across my room as she says, “That is the million-bit question for this week.” 

“If you don't see the motive, perhaps I can enlighten you,” I offer. 

For  some reason Rarity does not look too interested in this piece of  information, but she does look at me and nods for me to continue. 

“I  think this hacker is working for a secret society here in town that  fears Horse-Land magic,” I propose. “They framed Sunny to get her  arrested because she's not really human. She is one of those pony beings  who was transformed into a human when she crossed into our dimension, just like Twilight Sparkle was when she first visited our universe.” 

Rarity waves me off. “All of that information is last season to me, darling, but your proposal is interesting. So  you think that someone targeted Shimmer because she's secretly a pony?”  Rarity rolls her eyes a bit. “Albeit, a poorly kept secret.” 

“Exactly!” I exclaim to her. “Many people are aware of that fact, and some people are scared of it.” 

Rarity stands up straight as she gets a distant look, then she says, “I suppose you do have a valid point there.” 

“At this point I'm surprised you haven't thought of it already. This is a likely lead, is it not?” 

Rarity  looks back at me with confidence as she announces, “Don't worry. I'll  explore all avenues of this investigation. In fact,” she swipes up her  cellphone and types on it. “I'll leave myself a message as a reminder to  approach and talk to-” she glances up at me, “Button Mash, was it?” I  nod. She looks back at her screen and resumes typing. 

I can see the glow of her cellphone reflecting off her sapphire eyes. 

“Go easy on him,” I request her. “He's been through a lot lately.” 

“Don't worry. I'll be gentle,” Rarity assures. 

I flinch in annoyance as that noisy drone passes over my desk and flies to the other end of my room. 

Noticing  my look and expression, Rarity looks back at her phone and changes  something. Shortly later she looks at her drone as it flips about to aim  its camera at us then lands on a bookshelf in my office. 

“Thank you,” I tell her. 

“You're welcome, darling. Understand it is only here to scout for the layout of each scene I'm investigating.” 

“It can't have too much battery life in such a tiny thing,” I surmise. 

Rarity shrugs as she says, “You might be surprised. Right now it's . . .” she pauses a moment as she checks her phone and swipes at it, then finishes, “. . . sixty-seven percent left.” 

I give a half shrug. “I suppose that's pretty decent.” 

“Has this Shadow Queen contacted you?” Rarity checks. 

I shake my head. “Not so far, no. Should I let you know if that changes?” 

Surprisingly, Rarity shook her head. 

“No?” I lean my head forward at her while my face assumes a confused/surprised look. 

“I suspect that this Shadow Queen is a red herring, but rest assured that I will investigate that lead in my own way.” 

I squint an eye at Rarity as I ask her, “Why do you say that? Do you have another suspect?” 

“Indeed, I do.” 

It is disturbing how much Rarity stares straight at me when she says that. 

I  placed a hand on my chest. “You don't think I . . .” I narrow my eyes  at Rarity. “Rarity, Sunset Shimmer was my dear friend, and a friend of  my mother’s. There is no way I'd ever consider hurting either one of them.” 

Rarity  lifts up a hand to still me, then says, “I'm not accusing anyone as of  yet, my dear. I'm just following the clues right now and see where they lead me.” 

“Hypothetically speaking, if I were the guilty party, why would I be so determined to help you with our investigation?” 

“To find out how much I know, and to throw me off the right track,” Rarity answers immediately. 

I just lean back as I give a stunned stare at her. 

Rarity winks at me as she says, “I wasn't born yesterday, darling. There is still some magic left in this old gal.” 

“Rarity . . . she is my friend!” I tell her insistently. “In fact,” I look down, “I wonder if you can do me a favor about that.” 

Rarity gives a curious look as she asks, “What is it?” 

I  place my left hand on my face as I fight to choke down a sob, then say  with a somewhat unsteady voice, “I was wondering if you could . . . um .  . . deliver some letters for me to Sunset Shimmer next time you see  her? I just want her to know that she's not alone.” 

I lean my head back against my seat as I look up while tears start to rise in my eyes. 

“I  saw the look on her face during that press conference. She looked as if  she felt like everyone had abandoned her. I just want to make sure she  knows that isn't true. Some of us truly do believe that she's innocent.  I'm one of them.” 

“Of course  you'd think that,” Rarity agrees a bit darkly, but softens her voice  considerably with her next statement. “I would love to deliver your  letters. In fact,” Rarity knocks on my desk three times, “didn't you  schedule a school assembly which will take place soon?” 

I sniff a bit then nod to her. 

“Extend  to them an offer. Tell them if anyone else wants to deliver supportive  letters to Sunset Shimmer, I would be more than happy to deliver them.” 

“Thank you,” I say with another sniff. 

Rarity  whips out a tissue paper from one of her coat pockets and hands it to  me. For a brief moment I stare at it as I contemplate how odd it is that  she is that prepared, but then I recall that she does have a reputation  for being a drama queen. 

Gratefully,  I take the tissue and blow on it, then throw it into a small trash bin I  have under my desk. I also nod at her gratefully. 

I  grow a little alarmed when I watch Rarity go around my desk then kneel  beside me. She sweeps up one of my hands then presses it gently between  both of her palms. She also looks at me straight in the eyes (except for  the fact that her hat is still covering one side) and says to me,  “Despite everything that has happened, I still believe you to be a very  good girl at heart. I know you care about Sunset and all of her friends,  including me. That's why I'll continue to keep you in the loop.” 

She reaches forward and wipes my tears away with a brush of her thumb. 

“Think about it,” she encourages. “In the end, I know you'll help me do the right thing . . . for Sunny's sake.” 

Rarity  stands up straight. She gives me one final nod and a wink. After that,  she types up something on her phone. The drone springs back to life and  floats off my bookshelf. Shortly later she, and it, depart my office. 

Leaving me with a lot to contemplate.
> Chapter Twenty Two: School Assembly
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

All eyes are still on me, judging me.

That much is standard, but their burning hatred is not.

Except that seems to no longer be true. I can't say for sure. I can't see in the dark, especially with that darn light still aiming at my face.

But even if I cannot see them, I have multiple ways of reading a room. Hearing, for example, and what I hear is mostly silence.

Silence from the room as I continue to pour my heart out with the performance of my violin.

My consciousness rouses for only brief spurts as I try to read the mood of the room like taking it's temperature. Most of the time, however, I am swimming in emotion and the music I play.

As I do so, I relive the moments of my past in my mind. When I shift from event to event, I concentrate on the feelings I had during it and pour it into my unversed song.

The fall of Sunset Shimmer hurt me much more deeply than I previously thought. It was an infection eating away at my very soul. As a perfectionist, it was easy to notice the cracks deepening into my life. I didn't know how to stop it.

Anger, pain, fear, regret . . . love.

The notes flowed from me. They climb from low then ascend high. On the high note, I drag it out, waving it for at least ten seconds.

Finally I heard a noise from the crowd after that. It seemed like a gasp from some of them.

Well, that's good. That means they are impressed. At the very least, I have their attention. I need that.

As I continue to play, I think back to the school assembly that I called to address the issue of Sunset Shimmer. By then, I definitely noticed how my inner anguish was eating away at my perceived, perfection. My previous source of power.

It's really so regretful that my journey had to be so painful for me, but that's what it took to spark a much greater evolution for me. I didn't know it back then, but I was the Tower Tarot card as well. My previous regime had to crumble before it could be built anew. Before I can become a butterfly, the caterpillar must form a chrysalis first.

During this process for me, the ray of hope so rarely beamed on me strongly enough to notice, but I do recall one time that finally got my attention.




~Eight Months Ago~




With the power and authority I wield over this campus, it wasn't too difficult to arrange this school assembly, especially with an issue this important hanging over the minds of most of the students.

Still, it irritates how other assholes like Superintendent Neighsay jumps on the bandwagon and in order to use that opportunity to put in his own two-bits on the issue. I should have been suspicious when he approved of my proposal to arrange this meeting. Now I know why.

At his insistence, he spoke before me. I will be the second to last one to speak at this assembly, and I'm okay with that. I'll let the dickweed get whatever it is off his chest then we'll get to the real issue after that.

For the most part, what he talks about is a few legal issues involved with Sunset Shimmer's case. He also encourages everyone to step forward and confess if they have ever been abused or felt abused by Sunset, but he also encourages to do this in privacy.

Publicly, he's practically begging the students not to talk to news reporters about this issue at all. He says he understands the temptation to get two minutes of fame, but he also encourages the students to consider how doing so damages the reputation of this school even  further. A reputation which already has some shadiness to it.

Neighsay admits that many parents are already concerned about sending their kids to Canterlot in fear that they might get hurt by the local pony magic. He said those parents fear that their kids might get hurt or transformed somehow into a monster. A fear which is well justified by many past cases.

Neighsay warns that if this trend continues, Canterlot High may have to be shut down permanently on that ground that is a hazard to public safety. He also adds that many School Board members are already discussing that option because they don't want to get sued for negligence of public safety.

By talking to the press, he encourages the gathered students to realize how that only feeds the flames of fear about this campus. Since this school is already in danger of being shut down, any further antagonizing actions against it simply pushes this fate closer to the edge.

Neighsay begs the gathered students to realize that if there is any part of them that cherishes this school and sees it as “special” for some reason that he can't fathom, then they should treat this issue delicately. He adds that Sunset's damaged reputation already taints the school even further. Now many other parents are looking at the other faculty members with similar and very guarded suspicion.

I sigh as I look down. I can't fault Neighsay for discussing these things. They are legitimate concerns.

He's made it clear to me personally what he thinks of this campus and those who run it. It seems to me he's on the side that's pushing for this school to be shut down or at least wipe out certain faculty members, my mother included.

With everything that has been going on lately, he's simply voicing the concerns of the public. Although he personally wants the school to be shut down, he's also being fair by suggesting a path to the students just in case they want to save the school.

I have to give him props for that. He's not letting his personal feelings cloud his judgment too much, at least not in this case. That's a hard skill for most humans to learn. By offering a way out or at least warning what path to avoid which might cause further danger to the school, he's putting the power of the fate of the school in the hands of the students themselves.

It almost feels like a dare. Like he's saying, “If it were up to me, I'd shut this school down in a heartbeat, but I recognize that some of you actually do care about this place. If that's true, then prove it to me! Show me that you can be responsible with this catastrophe. If you can do that, it might change my stubborn mind about this otherwise doomed schools fate.”

I respect his willingness to be fair and I understand that he's just doing his job, but man . . . I still don't like him.

A prick by any other name is still a prick.

Lame clapping sounds filled the room with empty enthusiasm as Neighsay walks away from the podium. Privately, I'm wondering if the only reason anyone is applauding at all is over the fact that Neighsay finally shut up.

Another thing I have noticed about my fellow human species is most of us don't like to be lectured like that. When others keep telling us, “Hey you! Don't do bad stuff!” Our typical sarcastic reaction is, “Okay mom, or dad. Whatever!”

That reminds me of another quote from a song lyric which says, “HEY, TEACHER! Leave us kids alone!”

My darling mother approaches the podium next, but not for long. She simply did it to announce who will speak to them next. In this case, it's me. After she does, a much greater applause fills the room. When that happens, I quickly look over to Neighsay. His face is mostly a neutral stone mask, but I did spot tiny irritated twitches to his mustache and his right eye.

Good! Then he realizes he's being pissed on. That feels so good to know!

Then I look at the podium and take a deep breath. I realize that it's my turn.

Without much hesitation, I rise from my seat and approach the podium. While I approach it, my mother is backing off backwards while joining the applause of the room at me. I glance to her for a brief moment. It is enough to catch her encouraging smile towards me.

She's always like that to me. Every time I see her, she does little other than encouraging my growth. She truly is doing everything she can to make sure that I become the best possible woman I can be.

I feel slightly misty eyed just thinking about that.

I stand before the podium and set my note cards on it. I close my eyes and take another deep breath.

I've been in the spotlight plenty of times. Usually it's a thrill. Where most people would panic, I feel the thrill of the challenge awaken me and cause me to feel so alive! All those eyes staring at me and judging me, it also means I have their attention. It means I have this opportunity to influence their minds which means I have power over them!

I love that sensation! I love being important! I love being in charge!

At least . . . that is what I'd usually say to myself, but today . . . I'm off my game a bit. For once, I actually feel nervous enough to threaten my concentration. It does not help to realize that what I'm about to say might be unpopular. Fighting against the mood of the crowd is like trying to swim against a river current. I hate the feeling of having low odds of success, despite how influential I am. Despite being a good swimmer of the river.

And besides, this issue is really personal to me. My emotional side is staking a greater claim to my mind than it usually does. Usually my rational side is dominant, and it still is in this case, but my emotions are being greedy today. Instead of hovering around fifteen percent of my mind, today it feels like it's doubled to thirty. That is way outside my comfort zone. It means I now how a thirty percent chance to fuck this up, and the perfectionist in me cringes as this possible flaw.

I'm aware how I can use my emotions to illustrate my point, but typically I do it as a strategic performance. I can give a fake smile or cry easily enough if I want to and I don't mind that. Such things leave me in control. However, real smiles or tears threaten my concentration, and I despise anything that leaves me feeling less under control.

I open my eyes again. Although it seems like I'm staring into the crowd, my focus is actually glazed . . . until I notice something that ceases my interest.

Almost straight in front of me at the other end of the room is Rarity. She is still wearing her “detective” outfit which includes her hat that hides a quarter of her face. The one eye that I can see is silently judging me. She also has her arms cross in front of her chest.

I can see it in her eyes. She knows I did it. She knows I framed her “friend” Sunset Shimmer. It feels so unreal that she is so good as a detective that she went straight after the real culprit. I previously thought that my relationship with my mother might make her somewhat skeptical of that point, but no. She knows! I don't entirely know why, but she knows.

This thought makes me paranoid. Who else knows? Who else has she told? Who else will she tell? Am I about to be fired as Student Council President? Will I be expelled from school? Will my mother abandon me? Will I get arrested?

Anger and panic flash through my eyes. In an attempt to hide it, I look at the podium while my hands grip it tightly.

Get it together, Cozy! You got this! Making public speeches and manipulating a crowd is one of your strengths.

Or at least . . . it used to be. Doubt is seeded in my soul now. I can feel my power cracking. I can feel my control breaking down.

Damn it, NO! I am Cozy Glow! I am destined to rule everything! I will be in charge of everything and everyone!

I am!

Resolve hardening in my soul, I click a button on my cell phone on the podium which causes a giant screen to unfurl behind and above me. I wait in silence to build dramatic effect. I listen to the sound of the electric rollers as it lowers the screen. When it stops, I click another button on my cell phone. A projector with three color lights beams an image to the screen above and behind me. I don't even need to look to know it is now showing the image of Sunset Shimmer who is smiling widely and reaching her arms out as if to embrace the viewer of this image into a warm hug.

I show this because this is the Sunset I choose to remember and I want them to remember.

“A lot of rumors have been flying throughout this school,” I began. My voice booms through the room via the multitude of speakers about. “A lot of reasons have come about that have challenged our perception of reality, but if you think about it . . . this honestly isn't the first time.

“Who, among you, thought that magic didn't exist before you came to this campus? Who among you thought that absolutely everything in reality is grounded by indisputable scientific fact? If this was your previous world view, raise your hands.”

I pause a moment to let those words sink in. Gradually I see some hands raise. The more it happens, the braver the rest of the crowd is to admit they had the same thoughts. Eventually the majority of the room raises their hands. I estimate about sixty-two percent by the looks of them.

Then, to their surprise, I raise my own hand. I wait for the gasp of astonishment to simmer down before returning my hand to the podium and resume my speech.

“This is what a school is for. We came here to learn,” I remind my audience. “We came here to be challenged and to open our minds to new possibilities. Such is the case with this school. Canterlot High is far more than it appears on the surface. Time and time again, something magical happens here. Case in point,” I point behind me at the giant image, then say, “Sunset Shimmer is prime example of that. She is the leader who awakened us to the fact that the horizons of our human knowledge extend a lot further than we previously thought.”

My hand returns grip the side of the podium.

“That is the magic she brought to our attention. The magic that fills us in here,” I point to my head, “and in here.” I cover my heart. 

My hand returns to grip the side of the podium as I lean forward a bit and ask, “Have have any of you, ever, looked up to the stars and wondered if we really are alone in this universe? Is it just us, or are there other worlds with sentience and life? Are they gazing up at the stars and wondering the same thing?

“Perhaps that wonder, imagination and magic is what we all have in common.

“Sunset Shimmer is not human. Let me say it again. Sunset Shimmer is NOT human . . . at least not by birth. She was born a pony from another world, a parallel dimension that is both strangely similar yet also different from our would.

“When she first came to our world, she had very dark ambitions. She came to get away from something from her own world. She came to flee from the true purpose of her own heart. She fought against her fate, and that corrupted her. It made her lash out at everyone. Sunset Shimmer was literally a bully.

“Can you imagine that now? A few of you might remember that. Some of you even directly experienced her dark hands at the time, but look at what she's done since then!

“Is all her faults really so unrelatable? You seem quick to judge her now. I understand the influences and power of fear. Believe me, I do!” I place my hands on my chest of a second then return it to the podium as I resume. “But if any of you are without sin then, by all means, cast the first stone.”

I see a look of guilt sweep across the faces of many gathered. Good. This means I'm making progress.

“What we have here,” I resume as I gesture to her image behind me, “is a story about redemption. She did have a dark history. Hell, she even transformed into a she-demon at one time. Some of you might remember that. Some of you might have experienced how she mind-raped you at one time and forced you under her control. I'm sure it must have haunted those who have experienced that. To feel that level of vulnerability as your will is ripped from you. Many might have thought such things weren't even possible before that moment but, ever since, you look out into the world and can't help but wonder what else might exist to threaten you, and yeah . . . that's scary. I guess we live in a scary world after all. Who would have thought?

“But ask yourself this with all honesty. Have you . . . even once . . . considered using that kind of power if you ever had it? Was there even one brief moment during your childhood when you wished you could control the world or anyone else?

“I certainly have.” I gesture to myself. “I think about it all the time. Why do you think I ran for Student Council President? I do enjoy having enough authority to help people, and I do care for my fellow students. Those who have seen me in my office, or anywhere else for that matter, can attest to this. I keep my campaign promises. I truly do care, but don't think that I'm such a saint enough that I'm immune to the ego trip this authority helps to grant me. I know I have power, and I use it to influence the world in any direction that really matters to me, and THIS,” I gesture to Sunset's image again, “is something that matters to me. Someone that matters to me.” My hand returns to the podium. “I thought I wasn't alone in this feeling. Was I mistaken? Do I stand alone?”

I pause again to let those thoughts sink in, then I resume about ten seconds later. I count that in my head.

“Whether we like it or not, and whether we like to admit it to ourselves or not, our reality is a lot bigger than most of us thought. It's a lot bigger than what most of the residents of Horse-Land thought as well. Even today, most of them still don't know that we exist. Like us, they are wondering if they are alone in the universe as well.

“But both we and they are not. That's what Sunset Shimmer revealed to us. She is the bridge and the portal that opened our minds to new possibilities. Possibilities which reveal how much more endless potential might be out there. If something so magical as the land she came from exists, then what else might be out there? Is the bounds of our imagination truly just limited to our heads, or did our minds and hearts create these worlds for real? And, if that's the case, then consider this: What world out there in the infinite dimensions created us?

“I'm not going to pretend that such concepts isn't scary. It is, but it's also exciting. It means there is so much more for us to explore out there. So much potential for growth. In these worlds, we don't just run into the possibility of meeting enemies. We should also acknowledge the possibility of making new friends. Her world seems to specialize that.

“Have you ever stopped and considered the possibility that this is exactly what we need to grow as human beings? What if Sunset's arrival isn't pure random chance? What if she was meant to come in order to encourage us to grow?

“Look around you. Look at this school in particular. Sure we suffered lots of disasters in the past, but are we really lesser for it? When I look at this school, I see many of my fellow students embrace each other in friendship. I see people of all walks of life and skin colors either ignore our differences or openly celebrate them. I see a school ready and willing to break out into song and dance at any moment. I see a school with minds awakened to new and exciting possibilities.

“School isn't just an institution designed to test you with letters and numbers. It's true purpose is to prepare you for adulthood, and we need it. We need that guidance because the world is a very complicated place, but it's also simple in some core concepts.

“Core concept number one; we are human beings.

“Core concept number two; we need each other for survival.

“Core concept number three; none of us wants to feel alone.

“Core concept number four; we are happier and stronger together.

“Core concept number five: we are not alone. Not in this world, this universe, or any other dimension.

“We have so much to explore on this world, in ourselves, and everywhere else. Who, among you, will make it your professional carrier to explore the lands of Horse-Land? Who among you will be the first to actively try to open their eyes to new possibilities? Who among you will discover portals to yet other undiscovered worlds?

“All of this . . . ALL of this . . . started with Sunset Shimmer.

“So when you look at her and into her eyes . . . when you look into her very soul . . . do you really see an alien from another world that you can't possibly relate to?

“Let me tell you what I personally see when I look into her eyes. I see a woman who radiates wisdom and compassion. I see a woman who's exited to explore our world. I see a woman who laughs and cries. She jokes and pokes fun at others sometimes, but soda shoots out her nose just as far as the rest of us when we get her into gut busting laughter. I see a woman who is overwhelmingly trying her best to be our friend. I see a woman who saved our lives on far more than one occasion.

“We have a word for someone like that. It's called being a hero.

“It's called being human.

“Sunset Shimmer is magical, but she has only used that power to protect us, herself and her friends. She's used it to protect total strangers. How many of you can stand up to astral demons floating in the air? How many of you would pick up a microphone and defend total strangers?

“Sunset Shimmer may have been born a pony in another world, but she has since learned how to be human. She walks among us. She plays among us. She sings and dances among us. If anything, she has taught us how similar alien beings can be to us. They, too, don't wish to be alone. They, too, think and feel just like we do. They also worry about their fate. They also hope that something amazing is in store for them.

“So look at her. Look at her face. Look into her eyes and feel the warmth of her soul. A soul that radiates so powerfully she became a fricken seraphim on more than one occasion, and do you want to know how? She claims its because of the bonds she gained for us, fellow members of our species. Their souls shined line brilliant rainbows. They proved it on far more than one occasion.

“The magic of Horse-Land can get bright or dark. It all depends on what reality we chose to embrace. So will we chose to embrace fear, or harmony?

“Many of those out there in the world who yell and point accusing fingers at Sunny by calling her an evil rapist or a witch, they have already made their choice. They have chosen to embrace fear, and the dark side of Horse-Land magic loves them for it.

“But you have your own life to live. You are in charge of your own destiny. When you look at this picture, do you see a villain, or a hero? Do you see an enemy, or a friend? Do you see an alien, or a fellow human being with wants, needs, hopes and dreams just like our own?

“Make your choice, and please . . . for the love of God . . . make it a good one.”

I curtsy to them as I say, “Thank you.”




*  *  *




I burst into the girl's bathroom in a hurry and make my way into a private toilet stall. I close and lock the door. I lift the edges of my frilly blue dress and plop my ass down on the toilet seat.

But I didn't come here to use the toilet. I came here to be alone because I don't want anyone to see what will come next.

Because I hate revealing my vulnerabilities and weaknesses.

Images and memories of Sunset Shimmer obsessively hover through my mind.

“Hey, do you guys want to hear a secret?” Sunset Shimmer had once told the camera, and thus the viewers of her youtube channel, as she leaned forward and spoke conspiratorially but also excitedly. “I . . . fricken . . . love this game!

“I know! I know!” She waved off at the camera. “Silly of me, right? I mean, with all the bad controls and awkward settings and glitches I have encountered, this game barely deserves the standard of a beta test game at best. It feels almost like a single students collage homework assignment instead of an actual published and licensed game, but man! That story! I'll take some more of that, please!

“Despite all of it's flaws, the story just draws me in! That is it's influence. That is its power that it has over me. I love it when a story feels so strong that it can pull me in kicking and screaming and I still can't help but surrender to it.

“Such things awakens my mind to new possibilities. I love it when a story forces me to reevaluate life and realize there is more than one way to look at things.

“Sometimes we need to have stories in our life that drag us outside our own personal comfort zones. Dark stories can teach us something valuable about life, and personally . . . I think it makes me appreciate the light even more. It makes me love myself and who I am!

“I think we all need that as human beings every once in a while. It helps us appreciate what we have. It helps us to sympathize with others who are less fortunate than us.

“I, for one, will always appreciate that reminder. To be reminded why kindness is important. We are all on this journey together, so lets hold each other's hands as we lift each other out of the darkness and soar into the brightest days!

“Do not go gently into the darkest night, and sing brightly as we march into that glorious light!”

Tears erupt into my eyes, blurring my vision in the bathroom.

“Sunnnnnnnyyyyy!” I weep. “I'm so, so sorry!”

God, I knew this would hurt, but even I miscalculated how much it would. Time, if anything, is causing my wounds to fester more.



Dark King: Get a HOLD of yourself! This insect is not worth your time or pathetic tears!

Dark King: You saw an opportunity and a threat, so you took care of it. You cut the fat off of your body with a bloody knife, and are are all the better for it.

Dark King: Sever your ties to lesser creatures. They only hold you back.




“Shut up! Shut UP!”

I rip my augment reality glasses from my face and I chuck it away hard. The glasses slide away under the bathroom stall where I eventually hear it slide to a stop.

I feel an immediate sting of regret. Those glasses cost nearly five thousand dollars! I've known state of the art computers costing less than that. I hope to God I didn't damage them.

But, right now, I can't help it. I'm tried. I'm cranky. I'm hungy. I'm angry. I'm scared. I think my blood sugar level is too low.  

In short, I'm miserable.

To top it all off, the pièce de résistance, the goddamn cherry on top of the cake, I think I'm beginning my menstrual cycle again. The damn thing just won't make up it's mind when to come or go yet. It just shows up whenever it “feels” like it and makes my life a living hell whenever it does.

I despise uncontrollable variables! Such things mar my otherwise glorious perfection.

My hands shiver as they grip each other. My whole damn body is shaking as if I am in the frozen tundra.

“Cozy, look at me, Sweetie,” Sunset once encouraged me.

I close my eyes and think back to the memory.

“You know you can tell me anything you want, right? I'm here for you if you need me. I mean it. If anything bothers you, you give me a call. If need be, I'll come riding over to you right away.”

My face scrunches in pain.

“I just want to make sure that you are aware of that option. I'm here for you, Cozy. Day or night. If you need me, you'll call me. Alright? I want you to promise me, right now, that you are aware of that.”

My shiver intensifies.

“Promise me!” Sunset requests earnestly. This time this statement defies the memory I have of her of that particular moment, but I hear her voice in my head so clearly anyway.

I cry harder and shake my head while my eyes are still closed.

“Promise me!” Sunset seems to cry out much more desperately.

I want to, but how can I? You promised me that you'd be here for me whenever I need you.

Well, I need you now! I have never needed you more.

Where are you, Sunset Shimmer? Come to me, please! I need you! I need you so badly.

I know my thoughts are not rational. I know where she is. I know who sent her there, but my emotions are out of control right now. No matter what I know, rational thought does not dominate my mind right now.

I just want to feel her! I want to feel her touch on my shivering hands!

Then, all of the sudden, I get my wish. I choke, startled, when I feel warm and loving hands embrace mine.

Those hands are so warm! It's as if it bathed on solar light just before touching my hands.

The radiating warm seeps into my skin. I feel the warmth start to pulse within my hands.

“Sunny?” I cry out with a start. I pop my eyes open and look forward. Despite all logic, I can feel her loving hands on me. She has got to be here . . . somehow.

But I see nothing. My eyes confirm what my mind already knows, and that is the fact that I am alone in this bathroom stall. In fact, I am alone in this entire bathroom.

Yet I still feel that radiating warmth pouring over my hands like a river of loving energy.

I look at my hands. I see nothing there except my hands, but they are not shivering anymore. My hands are finally still.

How is this possible?

Then again, didn't I just come from an assembly where I told everyone else that Sunset Shimmer is a magical woman who makes anything possible?

Plus, if there is any way to do this, she would have the motivation to do so.

After all, she promised me, and Sunset Shimmer is loyal and kind enough to keep her promises.

I lift my hands as I continue to examine them. That phantom feeling of emery clings to my hands but starts to fade as I move them.

“Sunny? Is that really you in here?” I cry out in a small voice full of worry and hope.

The warmth that was previously in my hands seems to transfer into my chest, and it's much stronger this time. I feel like I'm sunning myself to deliberately cause a tan, except the warmth radiates from inside of me. It pulses out of my chest in slow, rhythmic waves. Every pulse warms and soothes me.

I think I now know what healing energy feels like in online RPG's I have played.

I press both of my hands into my chest as I close my eyes and bow my head.

Pulse after pulse . . . I feel so loved! So warm. So protected.

The only part of me that's not calm is my rational side. That part of me is desperately racing fast to try to explain this, and it does eventually come up with a plausible theory.

I already knew that Sunset Shimmer is magical, and I knew her laptop computer is likewise. I attempted and succeeded to hack into it with a flash drive, and I got shocked by this process not once, but twice!

Was that magic that transferred inside of me? Was that Sunset Shimmers magic, or at least Horse-Land magic?

In fact . . . does that also explain that other dark entity that has been bugging me lately? The Dark King? Is he also a byproduct of Horse-Land magic? He said it himself, but I didn't believe him at the time. I think it was because I didn't want to believe him.

But now I'm feeling Sunny's presence too. Her warm, soothing energy radiate inside of me.

God, I knew it! She really is an angel!

Maybe I accidentally brought in both spirits into my life. Both the devil and the angel.

Both the darkness and the light.

Both fear and harmony.

It fits the pattern. Horse-Land magic has always offered both whenever it offers either.

“But you have your own life to live. You are in charge of your own destiny.” I recall myself saying not long ago. “Make your choice, and please . . . for the love of God . . . make it a good one.”

Is there still hope for a wretch like me?

Sigh.

Too many questions, and I'm too exhausted.

I'll just sit here for now and bask in this moment.
> Chapter Twenty Three: Confronting Diamond Tiara
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Shadow Queen: I have nothing further to say to YOU! You already betrayed my trust, so I must turn to other avenues.

Button: what do you mean

The Shadow Queen: You should know EXACTLY what I mean, but let me spell it out for you so clearly that even your simple little mind can comprehend.

The Shadow Queen: I told you to extract information from Sweetie Belle about Diamond Tiara, not to go to Cozy Glow about ME!

The Shadow Queen: If I can't trust you with such a simple assignment, then I guess I'll just have to do it myself.

The Shadow Queen: I'll just go to the source and see what information I can extract from Sweetie Belle.



I smile at my cellphone deviously as I realize, with sinister satisfaction, that the threat I just sent him will very likely seize his attention.





Button: NO DON'T I TOLD YOU BEFORE TO LEAVE SWEETIE {bell emoji} OUT OF THIS

The Shadow Queen: You're not leaving me much of a choice. I still need my information, and YOU didn't deliver! I TOLD you that I am a strict but fair Queen.

The Shadow Queen: I do not tolerate failure, stupidity, or incompetence with my minions.

Button: what if i strike a deal

The Shadow Queen: What could YOU possibly offer me that I cannot already attain on my own?

Button: information form cozy glow





I pause for ten seconds for dramatic effect, then type out.





The Shadow Queen: Go on.

Button: hat's wat tis is all about isnt it

Button: the only reason y want info from Diamond is to get to cozy glow

The Shadow Queen: You're one cheeky, presumptuous little pup, aren't you? That's adorable.

Button: cut the crap

Button: i know hat cozy is the one you are rally after

Button: she tusts me bekawz i told her abot u

Button: that got her attention so u can uz that





Five second pause.





The Shadow Queen: She wants to unmask me, doesn't she? I bet that noble little priss can't wait to unveil me to protect her fellow pathetic students.

Button: yes

Button: I am ultemetly on u side

Button: ill tell u anthing u want to no

Button: ask me anything and ill tel ya





I squint at my cellphone screen in confusion. So you spell “anything” incorrectly one time and correctly in the very next line? Interesting.

Eh. I know how the autocorrect features can be on these supposedly “smart” phones.





The Shadow Queen: Hmm. You might actually have something there.

The Shadow Queen: I may be able to use your blunder to my advantage.

Button: exaktly



God, your spelling is atrocious!





The Shadow Queen: But didn't she tell you to stop investigating this?

The Shadow Queen: What use could you possibly have for me when she told you to stay away?





My devious smile deepens. I realize that I'm feeding into his paranoia that there may indeed be a hidden recording device in my office here.





Button: bekause I know that cozy secrely intends to keep me around to investagate

Button: she met up with me later to say she changed her mind

Button: she said that since she didnt want to go to the police in fear ofu going underground

Button: she said wekan do this ourselves





I narrow my eyes at my screen.

Clever boy! He left out the part where I “suspected” that there is a hidden recording device in my office so I can use that information against the Shadow Queen, thus leaving that option open. Instead, he pretends that Cozy merely changed her mind.

I can work with this deception.



The Shadow Queen: Changed her mind? That sounds unlike her.

Button: she didt kow who to trus so she konsolted me cuz I told her about u in the fers palace

Button: I ges sapicioon makes unlikally allionces





What?

I re-read that, then realized that he meant, “I guess suspicion makes for unlikely alliances.”

And yeah. That's true. I'll give him that.





Button: I tink she wants toe go out on dates I ges and while we make strategy agains u

The Shadow Queen: DATES, you say? Really? Oh, this is getting interesting now.



Eight second pause.





The Shadow Queen: Okay, you convinced me. I task you with only one thing when it comes to Cozy Glow, win her trust.

Button: how

The Shadow Queen: By doing everything she says, of course. I think you should also get “cozy” with her, if you know what I mean. Get her to like you.

Button: but

Button: she alrdy kows I have hots for sweetie she wont be konvinced that im sudly into her

The Shadow Queen: All men are horn dogs. She should know that.

The Shadow Queen: If she doesn't, then MAKE her believe that.





I snicker to myself.

This is so much fun! I love toying with people's lives and watching them squirm on my hook! It's even better when they don't know who is tugging at their puppet strings.





The Shadow Queen: Keep up your “investigations” but also act like you're after what's under her skirt. Find out whatever she likes and give her that.

The Shadow Queen: Take her on dates to the movies or a dinner or whatever, and make sure YOU pay for the darn thing. Chicks dig that stuff.

The Shadow Queen: If you can't afford that, I can secretly wire you money for the project. Do you need it?



I wait to see how he'd respond to that. If he says yes, it would be ironic considering that I'm the one who would actually pay for it after all.

But, as it turns out, he responds pretty quickly.





Button: NO I DONT WANT U DAM DIRTY MONEY U CAN JUS TAKE IT AND SHOVE IT WHERE THE SUN DONT SHINE

The Shadow Queen: {gasp emoji} Such language to a lady! Your mother would be ashamed.

Button: but u not a lady u a monster and i HATE YOU





I shrug indifferently. When it comes to the Shadow Queen, I have to admit . . . he's got me there.





Button: im only kuoperating undder duress but please 4 the lov of GOD

Button: dont involve sweetie i beg u

Button: shes innocent I dont want er evolved

Button: shes dealign with enof shit as is dont make it wors



The Shadow Queen: Very well, you've convinced me. Keep Cozy distracted and off my tail. Get close to her. For now, that's all I ask.

Button: y I thougt u wanted info frorm cozy but insted u teling me to tak her on date wat gives

The Shadow Queen: I'm telling you this because I know she's not like you. Cozy is smart. If you went straight after her information, she'd get suspicious.

The Shadow Queen: at least

The Shadow Queen: for as long as she's thinking rationally.

The Shadow Queen: But Cozy is also a girl, and I know something about girls myself. You know, since I am one as well.

The Shadow Queen: She won't think as straight if you butter her up first.

The Shadow Queen: I know you can do it. You're actually quite the charmer when you want to be.

The Shadow Queen: Besides, I don't think she'd be a bad catch for you anyway.

The Shadow Queen: Especially if Sweetie keeps turning you down.

The Shadow Queen: I assume Cozy wants to investigate Sweets and Diamond after you told her about my interest in them?

Button: um yes I balieve so

Button: in fact I tink shes gonna see them today

Button: at least that is what sweets told me earlier





I nod.

That's true. In fact, after I check the time, I realize I need to wrap up this conversation. Sweetie and Diamond are due to arrive in my office in just a few minutes.





The Shadow Queen: Good. In that case, if you can win Cozy's trust, then you can also find out through HER what she knows about Sweetie and Diamond.

The Shadow Queen: We'll kill three birds with one stone.

The Shadow Queen: In that case, I'll let Cozy do the hard work for me.

The Shadow Queen: Meanwhile, I'll have YOU, my loyal pawn, steadily sneak your way to checkmate.

The Shadow Queen: Cozy may be a National Champion at chess in real life, but I play chess where it secretly counts.

The Shadow Queen: Button

The Shadow Queen: I know I don't need to say this, but I'll say it anyway. No screw ups or treachery this time, or I'll make your life a living hell, and your mother’s, AND Sweetie Belle’s!

The Shadow Queen: DON'T ever cross me again!

Button: i wont

Button: when u want nex report





My telephone on my desk rings. I glance at it, then quickly type out on my cellphone.





The Shadow Queen: soon I g2g talk w/ u later k bye





I sigh.

That didn't end as eloquently as I normally would be. The perfectionist within me may cringe, but I am out of time.

I set my cellphone down then answer the call on my desk by pressing the speakerphone.

“Ma'am, Sweetie Belle and Diamond are here to see you. Should I let them in?” Scribble Dee checks with me.

“Good. Send them in right away,” I order.

“Very good, Ma'am.”

I steeple my fingers on my desk as I peer sharply at the front door to my office.

Oh boy, I've been waiting YEARS for this moment! Finally I will taste blood on your neck, Little Miss Prissy!





* * *





“Come in!” I call out kindly when I hear a knock on my door. I flinch slightly as I struggle to remind myself that I'm in “good cop” mode again.

Just a little longer . . .

The door to my office opens. The moment I have practically been salivating over arrives. Sweetie Belle and Diamond Tiara enter my office together!

As usual, Sweetie's outfit is pretty adorable. She is wearing a short skirt. The color of her skirt matches her hair color. It, too, is a mix of light and dark purple. Her upper blouse, however, is as white as her skin except it has a giant pink heart at the center of her chest. Very cute.

Diamond Tiara is wearing a yellow skirt of the same length as Sweety's, but it's shiny yellow. It is matched by a yellow coat that is also shiny. Both the skirt and jacket look waterproof as if it's designed for the rain. Beneath that coat, she is wearing a lavender blouse that has a giant silver bit sign on it.

Despite the fact that Diamond's outfit looks pretty casual to the naked eye for the most part, I can't help but suspect it actually costs a fortune.

Both ladies are carrying their own purses. The symbols on them, I highly suspect, probably match the cutie marks of their pony counterparts. I can't say that for sure, however, because I never met either one of their pony selves.

Pony Diamond Tiara . . . now there is an interesting thought. I wonder how long it would have taken for her image to get placed on the back of milk cartons if I thought of her while I visited Horse-Land.

Grr! You got lucky that time, Little Miss Prissy! I won't make that mistake again!

I carefully observe both of their reactions as I gesture for them to sit down.

To my right, Diamond just plops on her seat with an annoyed huff.

To my left, Sweetie seems far more timid. She sits down so carefully, it’s as if she's afraid she'll break the seat if she doesn't. She looks worried and confused, although I calculate a fifty-two percent chance she has a theory as to what this meeting is about. After all, if she's called to my office with Diamond Tiara, there is only one reason that she'd be able to think of at this time.

One hidden reaction I see deep in her eyes that I don't expect is a small glimmer of hope.

Interesting. I'll file that observation for later and use it for future calculations.

I eye my real target to my right with a hidden, hungry lust in my eyes. If I was a cartoon character, I'd imagine my eye would give an anime-style gleam at this moment.

“So . . . here we are. It's finally come to this.” I lean back in my seat. “I think you both realize where this conversation is going.”

“Actually, no! Frankly, I don't!” Diamond spats like a total brat. “And if you are insinuating something then I find this whole conversation offensive!”

“CAN it, Diamond!” I order her sharply. “I'm sure you are aware that I am aware of your performance drop lately. If this was any real work environment,” I stab my right pointing finger on the arm of my chair, “you'd be fired a long time ago.”

I soften my expression as I ask, “So I want to give you this opportunity to come clean with me. What is with you lately? Why are you so absent lately, and why act like such a bitch when you do show up? Something is bothering you and I demand to know it now!

“Just . . . tell me straight. Please. I want to help.”

What I say seems to surprise Sweetie, but in a good way.

Diamond, however, gets more huffy.

“That's none of your business! I just wish everyone would leave me alone!”

“Leave you alone?” I lift an eyebrow as I lean forward in my seat and collect my hands together on top of my desk. “Which is something that Sweetie didn't do, I take it?”

I look sharply at Sweetie as I now speak to her. “Rumors fly far in this school. I heard you asking around about Diamond about two months ago. Not long after that, you suddenly changed. You're now shy, quiet, and keep your hands down when the teacher asks us questions. Something spooked you and it spooked you bad, so I want to get this out in the open once and for all.

“It's not my job to interfere with your personal lives, but as your fellow peer, I have to say that I am concerned, and don't think that I'm the only one either.”

Sweetie widens her eyes as she appears to realize something. “Scootaloo told you, didn't she?” Sweetie guesses, then facepalms. “Man, I knew she couldn't keep a secret. She promised. She promised me, but that didn't last too long!”

I lift my left eyebrow at Sweetie slightly.

So . . . Scootaloo now knows as well? I'll file that thought for later.

Come to think of it, that actually makes sense! Scootaloo used to be very hostile to Diamond and Silver until just recently. It's as if she blamed both of them for Sweetie Belle's depression. In all likelihood, that confrontation eventually came to a boil. Scoots probably was going to get physically violent with Diamond until Sweetie Belle yelled out her repressed secret just to get Scootaloo to stop harassing someone Sweetie thought is actually a victim.

These days Scootaloo seems to be seething with frustration, but she's otherwise bottling her emotions.

She changed just recently too! How did I miss that?

I look down for a second.

God, your slipping, Cozy! You are getting lazy. Time to shape back up and get your head back into the game!

How many other flaws and imperfections have slipped by me as well? What if some of my minions have been feeding me false information recently? I've not been doing my homework and double-checking their work as I should be.

Damn it! Damn it! Get your shit together, Cozy!

“Um . . . I have a question,” Diamond brought up in a somewhat casual tone.

When I look back up at her, I realize there is a ninety-two percent chance she is trying to change the subject, but I'll bite. Where are you going with this, Little Miss Prissy?

Diamond points at me and asks, “What happened to your glasses? Or rather, where are your glasses? You look so weird without them.”

I look a little remorseful, and this time I am not faking.

“They broke a short while ago,” I admit honestly. My eyes look down at my desk as I sigh. “I've been going through a lot of stress recently, mostly because of all the shit that's been going on with Sunny. I confess, in a moment of weakness, I chucked them as hard as I could and I have indeed damaged them.” I look back at her. “My mother will need some time to repair them.”

Diamond looks confused. She shrugs as she asks, “Then why don't you get new ones in the meantime? Those were prescription glasses, right? Don't you need them? I'm pretty sure they don't cost much. What were they, five hundred bits? Eight hundred bits?”

Sweetie Belle gasps.

As for my reaction, I raise my right eyebrow at Diamond.

“I guess eight hundred bits prescription glasses seems like a casual statement for you, doesn't it, Diamond?” I ask her with a bit of a grin.

“That is the normal price for glasses these days, right?” Diamond checks with uncertainty as she looks back and forth between both of us.

“I certainly hope not!” Sweetie Belle gasps. “If that's true, I'd never be able to afford them if I ever needed them.”

Diamond looks forward in annoyance. “Gah! You peasants are so pitiful! If that kind of money makes you squirm, I dread to think how poor you actually are.” Diamond focuses on me sharply. “Just how much were those glasses anyway? I can't stand to see your bare naked face without them so I'll front the bill for you to replace them. So . . . how much?”

I smile at her darkly as I admit, “Try five thousand bits!”

Sweetie Belle's jaw drops in utter shock at my declaration, but Diamond's eyes widen only a bit.

“Okay. I didn't expect that,” Diamond admits with surprise. “What were those things made of to get that expensive? Were they made from unobtainium?”

“Try tiny micro computer chips,” I admit.

“Huh?” Diamond cocks her head and Sweetie winces in confusion.

“Those 'glasses' were actually augmented reality glasses that linked to my cellphone,” I tell them honestly. “It had a hidden screen facing towards me. My mother made them for me to help me out in school.” I look down sadly. “Which is why they are sentimental for me. I wish I didn't damage one of my precious mother's gifts to me.”

“It cost your mother five thousand bits to make those?” Diamond double checks skeptically.

I look back at Diamond as I tell her, “Most of that went into research and development. Some of it went to the patent office, as per my request. I figured if my mother went through that much work to make them, she should also get the credit. There are other smart glasses like it on the market but this one had a few innovations that aren't so common.”

“Such as?” Diamond challenges me.

“Eye tracking hardware and software,” I tell her. “That's combined with a retinal scanner. With it, I could navigate the hidden menus with my eyes alone. When I blink twice rapidly, that activates the eye tracking. After that, my left eye blink simulates a left mouse click and my right eye simulates a right mouse click. Whatever I am staring at is the focus of what I am clicking on.”

“That's so COOL!” Sweetie breathes in astonishment.

“Actually, I have to agree,” Diamond says, impressed. “If I front the money, do you think your mother would make me one of those?”

“Well,” I cock my head slightly at Diamond, “you'd have to ask my mother.

“However, I should mention that I don't think the glasses would cost as much to develop again. She already has the specs for it now. I estimate it would cost her less than half of that price to make new ones.

“As for my glasses, it will probably only cost her about three-hundred bits because she mainly only has to replace the lens. They are the ones that got cracked. The rest of the unit is just fine.

“However, she says she needs a bit of time to afford it with all the other bills we have. Plus, she needs time to order some replacement parts.

“My mother might be a mad genius, but that doesn't mean that every part she needs will just 'magically' appear out of nowhere. She does have some access to magic, true, but not that kind, unfortunately.”

“You know, I knew there was something fishy about those glasses stems,” Diamond realizes. “They seemed a little too thick to be normal. I used to think it was just a nerdy style choice of yours, but if they actually hid some tiny microchips then . . . Ooo!” She looks excited as she realizes something. “Can your mother make me a contact lens version of your glasses?”

“Wha-?” I gasp. “You literally just said you thought it was suspicious how my glasses stems were so thick, and now you are asking for contact lens version of them?

“Come on, Diamond! I know you are not this stupid!”

“Hey! I was just asking.” Diamond sulks as she looks down. “No need to get prissy about it.”

My eyes flare for a second at her. Diamond didn't notice because she is looking down at that moment, but Sweetie Belle sees me.

Prissy? PRISSY?! Did you just call me a . . .

Why you little BITCH!

Gah, I fucken HATE you so much!

I squeeze and wring my hands tightly on my desk.

Keep it together, Cozy! Don't mess this up. I am on the brink of the next phase of my operation.

“Okay, we're getting a little off-topic here,” I say a bit tightly. “I didn't bring you two here to discuss the ill fate of my glasses, I came to discuss you two. Especially you, Diamond! Your behavior lately has been totally unacceptable. I can't have a cabinet member on my staff behaving this unprofessionally. Just tell me what's going on.”

Diamond engages sulk mode again.

“Come on, Diamond! Talk to me. I am your friend!”

I think I feel a blood vessel pop when I declare that.

“As I said, it's none of your business! Just leave me alone!”

“Yes, it is my business!” I argue. “You made it my business. Your performance has been affecting my business and you're making us all look bad. Plus,” I gesture to my chest, “I have a duty to uphold the health and safety of everyone on my staff. If something is bothering you physically or mentally, then it is my job, Diamond Tiara, to ask my subordinates what is bothering them. If I don't do this when there is obviously something wrong then I'd be negligent in my duties and could be forced to retire accordingly. I don't want that and neither do you, so out with it.”

Diamond growls in frustration, then shoots up to her feet. “FINE!” She slaps my desk hard with both hands. “Then why don't I just make things easier for you! I QUIT!”

Diamond Tiara spins on a dime abruptly then heads out for my door.

Which makes me panic for a second.

“Diamond, no! Think about what you are doing!” Sweetie Belle discourages frantically. “She's just trying to help, same as I am!”

Grabbing the doorknob to my office, Diamond pauses there as she screams, “Well I don't NEED HER HELP! I DON'T NEED ANYBODY TO MESS WITH MY PERSONAL BUSINESS!”

Diamond is about to open the door until Sweetie's head whips in my direction. From there, she scrunches up her face into a tight wince as she declares, “I caught Diamond Tiara trying to kill herself!”

My eyes explode wide!

WHAT?! WHAAAAAAAT?!

A glare of burning hatred sears into Sweetie's flesh from Diamond Tiara.

“Damn it, Sweetie! You SWORE to keep that secret to yourself, and this is the second time you betrayed me!”

“Kill your . . .” I say then trail off in an utterly stunned voice. I shake my head. “Whoa-whoa-WHOA! Wait a minute! Wait a goddamn minute!” My eyes flare at Diamond. “And Diamond, sit down . . . NOW!” I fiercely demand her, nearly screeching myself.

Diamond looks furious at Sweetie, but she moves to obey. She moves almost mechanically as if she doesn't consciously realize what she is doing.

I cover my face with both hands. I need a minute to process all of this.

Holy SHIT! Button told me that Sweetie told him that Diamond is practicing unsafe purging habits, but an active attempt to kill herself? Seriously?! What the hell can be so bad about a rich girl's life? She's already won the game of life! What the hell could she possibly believe she's lacking now? Does she want the whole damn universe too?

Gods, I'm shaking, and I’m not faking! This is WAY more serious than I thought it would be!

“You didn't know!” Sweetie Belle realizes in astonishment. “But I thought you said-”

“No, I DIDN'T know!” I bark back at her. “This is way more serious than I thought.”

Sweetie realizes something else. “Oh my god! You haven't been talking to Scootaloo, you've been talking to Button Mash! I told him something else entirely.”

“Did you lie to him?!” I ask Sweetie in an accusing tone.

Sweetie shakes her head. “No. I just told him something else I thought would be less serious. I didn't want to frighten him.”

“You've been talking to Button too?!” Diamond growls. “Who else did you tell?

“Oh, wait! Let me guess. You've been talking to the press behind my back, haven't you? I'm sure this will be all over the news in next week's newspaper.

“Gods, I should have known you couldn't keep a secret, Sweetie Belle! Some friend you are!”

“I did my best!” Sweetie starts crying as she looks down. “I really tried! I kept this all bottled up inside me even though it was TEARING ME APART! But . . . b-but . . . all these people started coming at me and asking questions. Even my sister Rarity! Everyone seemed to know that something was wrong with me!

“Then Button came at me out of nowhere. He said he wanted to make friends with me again, but I guess he simply wanted to know something about you. I told him a bit of your secret just to get him off my back!

“Then Scootaloo attacks you and I . . . just . . .”

Sweetie Belle weeps in her hands. “I didn't know what to do!”

“Obviously!” Diamond barks harshly. “I guess keeping my secret wasn't really on the table for you! Thanks, Sweetie Belle! It's good for me to know where your loyalties truly lie.”

Diamond flashes me a hard stare. “I suppose you'll blab this secret to the entire school too!”

“No.” I stare just as hard back at her. “Instead, I'm going to tell this to the police!”

Diamond's eyes explode widely. “NO! YOU CAN'T! MY MOTHER WOULD . . .”

Since she trails off, I wave for her to continue and say, “Go on. I'm listening.”

Diamond sulks again except, this time, she looks far more devastated, defeated, and afraid.

Your mother? What does she have to do with this? What can I possibly tell her, or the police, that's worse than allowing you to kill yourself?

Damn it, Diamond, I won't allow you to squirm your way out of my revenge plot that easily! If anybody is going to kill you, it's going to be ME!

But first . . . I need you to suffer. I need you to really writhe in agony as I rip everything you care about from you.

Before that, I need to establish what you care about in the first place. That was going to be my next phase, but I don't like what I'm finding out so far.

God damn it, Little Miss Prissy! You have always been a royal pain in my neck!

However, at least I finally found some effective leverage over you. It's about damn time, too!

“I don't see how you've given me much of a choice!” I press on in a hard voice. “This issue is way too serious for me to ignore. Whether you are a member of my staff or not, whether you are a fellow student or not, as a fellow human being, I can't permit you to be a danger to yourself! I have other big plans for you, missy, and I won't allow you, or anyone else, to disrupt that.”

I lean back in my seat.

“However, I'm willing to cut you a deal,” I offer.

Diamond already appears really bummed out, but she looks up at me with a bit of hope when I say that. Sweetie Belle seems to have the same reaction, but I only notice that out of the corner of my eye. Diamond has most of my focus right now.

“I don't know what it is about the police or your mother that you fear, but if you want me to stay silent about this secret, then you'll fill me in on everything else that's been bothering you. Specifically, I want to know enough to solve this problem!”

I stab a pointing finger down at the arm of my chair.

“So, as long as you are honest with me and let me watch you like a hawk from now on, then I'll take time off in my life to babysit you. While I do, I'll hold my tongue about this issue to anyone else you don't want me to tell.”

I fold my hands in front of my face as I peer at her sharply.

“Do we have a deal?”

Diamond sighs in annoyance as she looks down, then says, “I guess you're not giving me much of a choice!”

“No, I'm NOT!” I confirm firmly and angrily. “It's either me, or it's the police! Pick your poison!”

And choose carefully, Diamond! I'm a lot more venomous than I seem! I don't care how vicious you think your mother is. You haven't experienced true darkness until I show it to you!

Diamond growls again, then said, “FINE! Whatever. If you want to get to know me and my business, then you start from the source.” She stands up. “Meet me after school. I'll have my butler, Randolph, pick us up in our limo. We'll swing by your place, pick up whatever stuff you want, then you can come and sleep over at my mansion. That's square one if you want to get to know me.”

“Agreed,” I tell Diamond with a firm stare like a laser.

“May I be dismissed now, your majesty?!” Diamond asks me in a mocking tone while doing a slight bow. She has no idea how much I appreciate it anyway.

In response, I simply wave her off with a few fingers on my right hand, otherwise, I keep my hands clasped in front of me.

Diamond immediately leaves in a huff as if worried that I might change my mind if she lingers further. She also slams my door so loudly it seems to threaten the door's hinges. It also causes me and Sweetie Belle to wince tightly.

“God bless you, Sweetie Belle!” I tell her gratefully as I look at her. “I can't imagine what it must have been like to deal with this all by yourself. Rest assured that you are no longer alone in this fight. I'll do everything in my power to help you with this quest.”

After all, there is nothing to tear down if I don't build Diamond back up first.

Sweetie's shoulder’s sag. “You're right. It was very, very hard for me, but . . .” she smiles at me gratefully, “It's so wonderful to hear that I'm not alone anymore on this quest. You have no idea how relieved that makes me feel.”

“Are you going to her mansion after school too?” I check curiously.

“Of course! I've had to keep a close eye on her for the last two months!” Sweetie expresses very emotionally. She looks cornerwise down. “You have no idea how isolating it's been for me. To keep this secret from my friends . . . my family . . . everybody! I practically had to change my whole life just to be with her and make sure she doesn't harm herself. It's been so hard, and I . . .”

She looks like she was about to confess another secret, but stops herself just shy of it.

Which makes me painfully curious!

What was she about to say? Damn it, I want to know!

Shoot. Looks like Diamond is not the only one I need to keep a close eye on. Sweetie still has some secrets left, too.

“Hey!” Sweetie brightens as she beams back at me. “We can make this into a fun slumber party! Just the three of us! I know it doesn't feel like it with just Diamond and me, but with you into the mix . . . we can actually make this into a true social gathering!”

“A slumber party? Heh.” I look to my side. “My mother has a cellphone app for that she's been begging me to use for years that’s related to this.”

“Bring it along, then!” Sweetie says brightly. “Ooo!” She claps excitedly. “This is going to be so much FUN!”

I look back at her and smile softly.

Now there is the old Sweetie Belle that I know!
> Chapter Twenty Four: Slumber Party, Part 1, Preparation
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

There it is. That is a limousine, alright. It is also an open invitation to the next phase of my plan.

    So why am I hesitating?

    Best I can figure, it's because my confidence in myself has been shaky lately. I've made too many mistakes recently. It is causing me to not trust my calculations too much. I thought I've weighed all the factors, but several things have surprised me in recent history such as overlooking Scootaloo's recent change in behavior or not realizing Diamond Tiara's problem was that serious.

    Just like Sweetie Belle, Diamond had not been texting or emailing anyone about how serious her own problems were. She really tried to keep this to herself.

    Statistically, most suicidal people give a lot of signs and hints as if subconsciously crying out for help. Did Diamond do that and I've been so incompetent lately that I missed all of those cues?

    “You coming or what?” Diamond asks me irritably at the limousine ahead of me. She is crossing her arms and tapping a foot impatiently. She is rolling her eyes like she can't believe that this is her reality now.

    “Do you have to go?” Scootaloo complains to Sweetie Belle nearby me which drew my attention towards them.

    Scootaloo is wearing an orange button-up shirt but it's open at the front, revealing a bit of a torn sleeveless deep purple shirt beneath. She is wearing very tight black spandex pants that are torn at the front but likely on purpose in that case because the tears show a regular pattern down her pants. The pants are secured by a white leather belt with lots of square metal studs on it. On her left wrist, she is wearing a thick black bracelet with one-inch tall metal spikes. I know she's not allowed to wear the latter at school, so she takes it off and stuffs it into her backpack before stepping on campus.

    “You know I have to,” Sweetie replies to Scootaloo. “I already told you why.”

    Scootaloo looks depressed by that answer. A sort of sad acceptance.

    “I know, but why does it have to be you specifically?” Scootaloo complains. “She needs to see a shrink, if you ask me, and get her head examined. You're not licensed to handle something this serious so . . . why does it have to be you?”

    Sweetie Belle folds her hands and hangs it low near her lap. She also bows her head and sighs in regret before saying, “For some reason, Diamond wants to keep this a secret. She wants it so desperately that I'm afraid she'll . . . um . . . do the act if I tell anybody. I don't want her to be hurt, so I have to watch her.”

    “Then let her hurt herself!” Scootaloo growled in annoyance. “Let's see how serious she really is. You remember what she did to us back in the old days, right?”

    Sweetie Belle flashes her friend an angry and astonished look as she said, “Scootaloo, I can't believe you'd say something so ugly to my face!

    “Besides, you know I can’t stand aside and let someone hurt themselves like that! It's not right, and I won't let her do it!” She gestures to herself. “I wouldn't be me if I ever knowingly allowed something like that.”

    “I know,” Scootaloo agrees sadly as she looks down. “That's one of the things I love about you. You really care about people. You find lost souls and you bring them home when they really need it. It's just that . . . I can't help but feel like we're out of our league here.” She looks back at Sweetie. “I agree with you about the fact this is serious, but I don't think you are trained or qualified to handle something like this.”

    “I can be her friend,” Sweetie returns with a simple shrug. “That's not too hard. Perhaps that will even give her a reason to want to live.

    “Besides, I got Cozy Glow to help me now, so I won't be so alone anymore!” Sweetie announces cheerfully.

    “Alone anymore?” Scootaloo echoes in a bit of a haunted way. “No one should feel that way, Sweetie Belle. You least of all.”

    “And neither should Diamond feel that way!” Sweetie insists with a bit of a firm look to her friend.

    “Fine! Whatever!” Scootaloo put on her rather radical-looking helmet that probably has a paint job that she did personally. “Try to save the whole fucking world, why don't ya!”

    Sweetie Belle frowns. “Scootaloo, you know I don't like you talking that way!”

    “You're not my goddamn mom!” Scootaloo snaps at Sweetie. “Just leave me alone and go take care of your new 'friend'!”

    Scootaloo races off and hops onto her skateboard which she previously had tucked in her arm. I know it was in her locker before that. Using it, Scootaloo skates away in a hurry and an angry huff.

    “Scootaloo,” Sweetie Belle moans sadly as she watches her angry friend skate off in a hurry. “You're my friend too. I wish you could understand and forgive me.”

    “Just give her time,” I advise Sweetie. “I'm sure this is a shock to her. I know it was for me.”

    “You seem to be taking it well,” Sweetie commends me as she looks at me with an impressed expression.

    “If it isn't clear to you yet,” I thumb behind me at the school, “I am a politician. We know how to put on an act.”

    Sweetie raises an eyebrow at me slightly as she asks, “Does this mean you are not really okay?”

    I look back at the limo. That's when I notice that Diamond has already entered the vehicle. It is her elderly butler that is waiting for us in her place.

    “No, I'm not okay,” I admit honestly.

    For lots of reasons, in fact.

    I am startled when a hand claps my right shoulder. I look at that hand then follow it to its source, which is Sweetie. She's looking at me with gratitude.

    “Well, I, for one, am grateful that you're here. Your presence makes me feel a lot more confident,” she tells me.

    That makes one of us.

    “Come on,” I bade. “Let's go before Diamond decides to drive on without us.”




* * *



 


    I may never have seen it, but I know for a fact that Apple Bloom lives on her family's farm, Sweet Apple Acres. Based on what I have heard, the architecture on that farm is pretty archaic. But, speaking strictly in terms of the sheer size of the land they have, the Apple family might have the most owned land of anyone I know, including Diamond Tiara's family.

    Scootaloo, I heard, lives in a foster home with a lot of kids, she being the oldest. That house is a pretty good size but it's packed to the brim. Of the three original members of the Cutie Mark Crusaders, Scootaloo seems to have the poorest financial situation and that by a pretty wide margin, but at least her house has wifi. I don't think Apple Bloom's home does.

    Sweetie Belle, in contrast, seems to be in the middle of the road. She has a classic suburban family home that most of the rest of the world thinks is pretty standard living for this country but, in actuality, middle-class families like that are growing pretty rare.

    That picture is nearly perfect. They have the classic car in the garage to the white picket fence in their front suburban home. They even have lawn gnomes on it.

    I don't know what Sweetie Belle's parents do for a living, but I vaguely recall that her father, Hondo Flakes, is now retired from God only knows what. In contrast, Sweetie's mother, Cookie Crumbles, has always been a housewife as far as I can tell.

    It is their eldest daughter and Sweetie's older sister, Rarity, that seems to be shaping up to be the true breadwinner of the family these days, but they seemed to have had this house for quite a while. I don't know how they afforded it.

    I wait in the limo with Diamond as Sweetie Belle races into her home to collect enough stuff for a slumber party over the weekend. While she is gone, I try to restrain my giddy excitement at finally being able to sit in an actual limousine. As it is, I subtly rub my hands on the smooth black leather that covers the seats. I am sitting on one of the long sidewards seats on the right side of the car while Diamond sits across from me.

    Diamond herself has her eyes closed, arms still crossed, and she seems permanently stuck on huffy mode. It does not surprise me that luxury we find ourselves surrounded with does not faze her. She grew up with this her whole life, so it's downright normal to her.

    For the moment I can't help but envy her but I know that, someday, I'll surpass her by far, especially when I tear her down to nothing.

    I look over my shoulder out the window behind me when I hear activity. By then it’s been about thirty minutes. I see Sweetie Belle exit her home with a small suitcase. She sets it down for a moment as she hugs each of her parents one by one, then both of them together.

    I smile at her warmly for that. It's good to finally see exactly why she grew up all warm, kind, and generally optimistic.

    Next, we stop at my home. Now it's time for me to collect my stuff.

    After Diamond's butler opens the car door for me, I tell them as I start to crawl out of the car, “Wait here while I go in and fetch my stuff.”

    But Diamond surprises me with an unexpected request. “Actually, I'd rather join you.”

    Pausing in confusion at the threshold of the car door for a moment, I then look back at Diamond with a questioning look as I ask, “Really?”

    “Well, it's only fair!” Diamond argues. “You're pushing yourself into my life! Why should I not get the opportunity to even the score?”

    “Actually, I want to come too!” Sweetie requests excitedly.

    I peer my eyes sharply at Sweetie as I say, “You've already been to my home several times. You know what it's like.”

    “Exactly!” Sweetie agrees excitedly. “Your mother invented a lot of neat stuff! I feel like I've traveled into the future every time I visit your place. Plus, I want to pet K-9!”

    “Canine?” Diamond sort of echoes with a disgusted, snobby snort. “That's a stupid name for a dog. Why not just name it 'Dog' instead?”

    Sweetie shook her head at Diamond. “No. Not canine, as is c-a-n-i-n-e. Instead, it's the letter K followed by the number nine, which is the name of their pet robot dog.”

    “Robot dog?” Diamond asks Sweetie while raising an eyebrow, which is an expression she passes to me a moment later. “You got a pet robot dog?”

    “Um, yeah. My mother invented it many years ago when she was around my age now,” I tell Diamond. “I think she did it to give her other dog, Spike, a companion to hang out with.”

    Sweetie looks a bit sad as she recalls, “Oh. Spike passed away over six years ago, didn't he?”

    I nod at Sweetie as I say, “Just before mother adopted me.”

    “Well . . . are you going to invite us in, or what?” Diamond asked impatiently and irritably. “I don't have all day, you know.”

    I sigh as I look out the door. “Fine.”




* * *




    “Pretty neat security system,” Sweetie compliments as she and Diamond enter my house along with me.

    As I predict, K-9 rushes up to greet us. Sweetie Belle bends down and happily obliges the robot dog’s eager attention.

    “It's okay, I guess,” Diamond partially agrees. “But I heard a rumor that someone broke into your home over a month ago. I guess your 'security system' wasn't much help then.” Diamond scoffs.

    “Whomever that was, it was a professional,” I remark. “Also the security system has been stepped up ever since then. Now my mother gets a text message alerting her if anyone enters or leaves the premises, and she also gets an alert if anyone tries to tamper with the security settings.”

    “Is your mom home?” Sweetie asks curiously as she continues to play with and pet K-9.

    I shake my head. “Mother still has a few more issues to wrap up in school. She is the principal of Canterlot High. Such duties would keep her busy from time to time.”

    “And you end up Student Council President,” Diamond announces with a pouty face. “I used to have such an illustrious position back in grade school and before you took the position from me in Canterlot High.”

    I hide an evil grin as I think, “Yeah, I know!”

    “Welcome home, Honey!” happily greets what appears to be a hovering television with two robotic arms extending from it. On the screen itself is the face of my mother. I know she is using a drone floating in front of her which is sending her image to the TV screen. If she steps forward in real life, the floating screen follows her movements as if she is actually here. The two muscle sensors on her wrists are communicating information to the two robotic arms on the screen.

    On this end, the camera on top of the TV screen is sending information to her smart glasses. 

    Diamond Tiara leaps back a bit at this sight, startled. She holds a kung fu pose as she continues to regard the floating television guardedly, but I calculate a seventy percent chance that she is not actually trained in martial arts. Ballet dancing maybe, but not true self-defense training.

    “What the heck is that? Your robot mom?” Diamond asks me with wide eyes.

    “What? No!” my mother in the screen denies. “I'm simply communicating to you all through this screen from where I am at.”

    Sweetie Belle stands up then approaches to stand beside Diamond. She whispers into Diamond’s ear, which I'm close enough to overhear. Sweetie advises, “Don't ask her how she's making that TV screen hover or anything else to do with science. If you do, you'll get a long-winded technical jargon explanation that will leave your head spinning.”

    Diamond widens her eyes slightly at that uncomfortable thought, then says quietly back to Sweetie, “Good idea. Thanks for the warning.”

    “Anytime!” Sweetie replies happily with a big thumbs up.

    “What was that?” my mother asks curiously.

    “Oh, nothing!” Sweetie says with a very innocent-looking smile while folding her hands behind her back. “We're just talking about school stuff and boys we like.”

    “Good save,” Diamond commends Sweetie in a whisper.

    I feel like bursting out in laughter but I manage to hold it in.

    “Eh. Whatever.” My mother's robotic arms seem to shrug when she does so on the screen. “Anyway, um . . . what are you doing here, Diamond? You don't usually swing by my home.

    “Oh, excuse me.” My mother gives me an apologetic look. “Our home,” she corrects herself.

    “Oh, that's the best part!” Sweetie jumps up and down excitedly. “Me and Cozy here were thinking about having a slumber party over at Diamond's house. Is it okay if Cozy joins us too?”

    My mother's eyes in the screen widen excitedly. The screen shoots forward until it's two feet from my face. She virtually leans close to my face as she asks me, “A slumber party? Really? Did she say slumber party? Is this true, Honey? Are you making new friends?!”

    Since she is invading my close personal space, I lean back unconsciously as I reply, “Ah . . . yes, mother. I hope that's alright with you. Judging from your reaction, I'd say that-”

    “Oh this is PERFECT!” my mother exclaims ecstatically. “You can finally test out my slumber party cellphone app!”

    I can feel Diamond peer at me sharply from behind me as she asks, “Slumber party cellphone app? Really?”

    I turn my body halfway towards Diamond with my right shoulder to her. I turn my head the rest of the way to fully look back at her as I say, “Yeah. The app is called, 'Slumber 101'. Basically, it's just a glorified checklist of slumber party activities we could do. The idea is, if we do them, I click the checkbox on the application to mark off the completion of each individual activity. At that point it sends a notification to my mother that I completed the activity. From there, she can make a reply to that specific activity or another activity in order to discuss it. Another thing the app allows me to do is click the name of the activity itself. From there, it shows an expansive 'how to' instructions of each individual activity.”

    “So it's like a how-to manual and checklist all wrapped in one,” Sweetie realizes, then smiles excitedly. “I love it! Can I download it too?”

    “Sure!” My mother beams at Sweetie proudly. “I'll send you the link to the application in your e-mail!”

    “Thank you!” Sweetie cries out in appreciation.

    “No problem! The more people I get to test the application, the more data I can collect in order to refine it.

    “Oh, and . . . Honey.” My mother places one of the screen’s robotic arms on my left shoulder which draws my attention back to her. “You don't have to use it. I'm not going to punish you if you choose not to use it. Rather, it's more the other way around. Instead of punishing you, I'm going to reward you if you use it. You'll get an extra special bonus if you complete every item on the checklist.

    “And, ladies,” she directs her attention at Sweetie and Diamond, “make sure she's honest about that checklist. Don't just go checking off each item one by one all wellie-nilly. If you are going to do this, make sure you actually do the activities.”

    “Time to put your halos on as you reply,” I advise my guests. My advice makes Sweetie Belle giggle sweetly.

    Meanwhile, K-9 gently paws at Diamond Tiara's leg in the hope of getting her attention.

    “What do you want, you miserable mutt?” Diamond asks in annoyance.

    “Your attention, obviously!” my mother answers. “Go ahead and pet her. She won't bite.”

    “She doesn't really have a mouth,” Sweetie Belle adds.

    “She?” Diamond passes a queer look to the projected image of my mother on the screen. “Robots don't really have a sex.”

    “I've been telling her that for years,” I inform Diamond. “Trust me, you're not going to convince her.

    “I, on the other hand, like to be precise.”

    “I created her as a companion for Spike several years ago,” my mother mentions, growing depressed at the reminder of her loss. “I couldn’t always sneak him with me wherever I go so I invented a companion to keep him company whenever I left. He kind of got along with her back in the day, but he made it clear to me that she is no adequate substitute for me. Still, he appreciated the gesture.”

    “Oh, I forgot he could talk!” Sweetie Belle exclaimed as she covered her mouth. “Oh, I'm so sorry for your loss! I know it must be very painful for you.”

    “Yeah.” My mother rubs her right arm with her left hand. The robot arms end up mimicking the gesture. “Yeah, it's . . . hard to move on sometimes.”

    “Hey! I know!” Sweetie cheers up. “How about we take her with us to Diamond's house?!”

    “Absolutely not!” Diamond rejects fiercely.

    “And besides, it's best to keep her near her charger at home,” my mother agrees with Diamond a little sadly. “I made some upgrades to her over the years that gives her more sensor information, but those things cost her power. On average, she can run fifteen hours a day before needing to recharge. During that time she'll be sort of 'asleep' for about four to six hours. I don't want to risk that charger being lost or damaged so it's best for it, and her, to stay home, but,” she claps her hands. The robot hands do the same. “thank you for offering! I know you only did it out of the kindness in your heart. Fluttershy would be proud of you, and so am I!”

    “Get away from me, mutt!” Diamond orders as she scoots the robot dog away from her leg using the same foot. K-9 sits down and moans sadly. Digital tear symbols blink down the screen displaying its virtual eyes. I know that K-9's actual eye is a camera hidden on its forehead.

    “Oh, Diamond! You made her sad!” Sweetie Belle remorsefully complains.

    “She isn't real! She's just a stupid robot dog!” Diamond barks back at Sweetie.

    “Stupid? Hardly!” my mother objects. “K-9 has true artificial intelligence. It may not be advanced, but she is a thinking machine, and you're hurting her feelings.”

    “Yeah! Make it up to her by petting her!” Sweetie Belle says in an almost demanding tone.

    “Gah! Fine!” Diamond exasperates.

    Diamond bends down and pets the dog. In response, K-9 immediately reverses its behavior from sad to happy, pleased to receive the attention it wanted.

    During this time, I carefully observe Diamond's reaction. Because of that, I notice a very small grin on the corner of Diamond's lips. Because of that observation, I calculate a sixty-five percent chance that her initial resistance was putting on airs, but the truth is she desperately wanted to return the robots affection.

    Diamond is a classic case of tsundere anime trope. Annoyed and off-putting on the outside, but soft and affectionate on the inside.

    That's curious to note, because I am the reverse of that trope. I am a sweet-looking, poisonous apple like the one that took down Snow White.

    “Ladies, I need your attention for a second,” my mother requests as she, and the robot hands, clasp together. When she successfully gathers our attention, she asks, “Now the answer to this question will determine if I give my daughter permission or not to join you at Diamond's house. Do any of you know how to give her a shot of insulin if she starts having a seizure?”

    “Mom!” I complain as my face flushes in embarrassment. I don't like having my weaknesses advertised, especially in front of Diamond Tiara.

    “It's a legitimate medical concern, Honey,” my mother explains to me.

    “Ooo-ooo! I do! I do!” Sweetie Belle announces as she raises her hand up high.

    “That's all I needed to know! Thank you, Sweetie Belle!” my mom says happily to Sweetie, then asks me, “You do have your supplies, right?”

    “Of course,” I answer as I look at the screen while crossing my arms. “I always keep it handy on me.”

    “Sweetie Belle,” my mother looks back at Sweetie, “her watch should beep a warning if she starts having problems. By itself, it is not monitoring her blood sugar level but it does give a sort of warning if her body starts getting out of whack. If you encounter any problems you don't think you can handle, call me immediately! If I don't answer, then call for an ambulance. I need you to promise me this, Sweetie.”

    “I will. Oh, I mean,” Sweetie stands up then curtsy's slightly to my mother, “I promise.”

    “I still need to gather my stuff,” I tell my mother as I look from Sweetie to my mother on the screen.

    “Make sure she knows where you keep your emergency supply of insulin is,” my mother commands me.

    “I already know!” Sweetie Belle announces. “I went over this in class already, and I paid attention like a good girl!” Sweetie beams in pride. “She keeps her supply in that thing that looks like a cute bow on her back.”

    “Excellent! Then I have no more concerns,” my mother says happily.

    Mother looks at me as she says, “I bid you to have a wonderful time with your new friends, Honey. Remember, friendship is very important. I underestimated it too when I was your age. I'm so glad someone finally taught me how important it is. Friendship is literally magical. It's a great source of our strength.”

    “I know, mother. You tell me that all the time,” I tell her, then inwardly think, “Frankly, I'm sick of hearing it!” Outwardly again, I tell her, “Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go pack for the weekend.”

    “The whole weekend?” my mother checks.

    “Yes,” I confirm. “Is that a problem?”

    “No.” When she shakes her head no, the floating TV screen somewhat mimics her. “It's just unexpected. I assume you just got home, right?”

    “Yes, and don't worry,” I assure her. “I have a way to do my homewor-”

    I get cut off when I notice my mother gets distracted. Someone tries to gather her attention at her current location, most likely for business purposes.

    “Yeah, I'll be right there in a moment,” my mother assures someone off-screen. After that, she looks back at me. “Yeah, I know, Honey. You're one of the most responsible little girls that I know of. I'm so proud!”

    My mother actually is misty-eyed. She lifts her smart glasses for a moment to wipe tears from both of her eyes one by one. The robot arms end up attempting to do something similar to its own screen.

    “Anyway, there is just one more thing I need from you before I let you go,” my mother tells me.

    “Which is?” I ask.

    My mother gives me a “come here” gesture with both of her hands and robot hands.

    I groan.

    “Come on! Do our thing!” my mother softly demands.

    “Not in front of them, please!” I request.

    “Come on!” my mother repeats, unrelenting.

    I sigh, then say, “Only for you, mother.”

    I brace myself for the impending embarrassment. I'll just get this over with.

    My mother and I perform a very childish pattern of claps and slaps between me and her robot hands as we chant.



    “Sunshine, rainbows

    Radiant hearts, divine!

    Clap our hands and show a little shine!”



    We end this little pattern of ours with bright happy smiles which is quickly followed by a traditional hug.

    “Oh . . . my . . . gawwwwwwwwwd!” Sweetie sequels in giddy delight because of what she saw us do.

    “What the hell was that?” Diamond asks in predictable disgust, although she might be secretly jealous.

    “I love you, Honey, more than anything else in the world!” my mother tells me with so much rich emotion that it makes her voice unsteady. Meanwhile, my face is pressed against the TV screen which is as close to her face as I can get right now.

    “I know, mother,” I reply with almost equal levels of emotion. “I love you too.”
> Chapter Twenty Five: Slumber Party, Part 2, Do Come into My Home
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

I am blown away by Diamond Tiara's home! She has by far the wealthiest home in our company.

Of course, I expected this, but reason and logic still did not prepare me for the actual experience.

The closest thing I have encountered in recent past that comes close to this (and well surpasses it, even) is Princess Twilight Sparkle's royal castle in Canterlot. Of course, that's an almost unfair standard. Princess Twilight is a royal monarch, and the Rich family . . .

Well, the name says it all.

Is it the name? Is that all it takes? If so, I wish my mother was named Twilight Sparkling Wealth, or something to that effect. Some people just seem born lucky. It pisses me off just as much as it amazes me!

Diamond Fucking Tiara is greeted at the door by a small army of servants at the mansion. The arrogant bitch just brushes them off and walks past them as if barely acknowledging their existence. Meanwhile my eyes linger on them as we pass them. While they remain in view, their faces stay stoic, much like the royal Canterlot guards in Horse-Land.

And to think . . . this is the kind of setting Diamond returns to every day from school.

Why isn't this bitch in some elite prep school? Canterlot High seems like a massive step down for someone this wealthy.

The only reason I can think of to explain this is that the unusual amount of magic activity put our school on the map, and Diamond's mother is President of the School Board. Since she has some pull in Canterlot High (among other schools), it makes some sense why Spoiled Rich would send her daughter to a school where she has greater influence.

As Diamond Tiara leads Sweetie Belle and me through one of the many hallways of the mansion, I slow down as my attention lingers on the many fancy paintings hung up in the hallways. Most of them depict what I assume to be some family member of Tiara's.

Eventually my slower pace wins the attention of the girl who is leading us.

“What are you looking at?” Diamond asks me irritably but also curiously.

I stare at a painting of an elegant lady in a large, Victorian-style dress. She is wearing a large hat on her head. The slight grin on her face reminds me of the Mona Lisa.

I shake my head.

“I just don't get you,” I confess. “Why would you want to kill yourself when you're surrounded by all these fabulous riches?”

Sweetie Belle gasps a bit as she looks around, worried that what I said might be overheard. It seems we're clear on that for the moment unless the multitude of cameras posted on most of the corners of the mansion also have a microphone.

Diamond does not look worried. Instead, she joins me to my side and looks up at the painting.

As I regard her, I notice a painful expression on her face. Since she said that she's willing to take steps to harm herself, that alone does not surprise me, but I can't put my finger on why this is so. All logic in front of me suggests she should be feeling the opposite way.

Eventually she says, “When you have a lot, it costs a lot.”

I squint at her in confusion, then ask, “What do you mean? You were born into this wealth!” I gesture all around us. “You didn't have to work a day in your life to inherit all this wonderful stuff, so what is your deal?”

Diamond looks down in depression as she says, “That's not all I inherited.”

I continue to stare at her, waiting for an explanation.

She looks at me off to her right side. She opens her mouth as if to say something but pauses there. She looks at me with an expression filled with painful hope as if concerned that I might not understand what she is about to say, but she wants me to understand. She wants to be understood and validated so she won't feel so alone.

But, before she says a word, she closes her eyes and winces tightly as if privately berating herself, most likely to punish herself for revealing a brief moment of vulnerability.

When she opens her eyes again, I can tell that she shut back down. There is a cold look to her eyes which I can tell is just a mask to hide her pain.

“Whatever. You wouldn't understand,” Diamond says to me dismissively as she turns to leave.

“Try me,” I dare her, now speaking to her back.

“Come on! Let's just go,” Diamond says tightly as she walks away.

Until we all hear someone call her in the intercoms spread throughout the mansion.

“Miss Tiara, some guests, who are at the front gate, claim to have come to see you,” spoke an elderly gentleman on the intercoms. “Should I let them through?”

Diamond looks about for a moment then spots what she's after. She approaches a black intercom device mounted on the wall and presses it.

“Who is it?” Diamond asks while holding a button on the intercom.

“Miss Silver Spoon and someone calling herself Scootaloo is here to see you,” the elderly man on the speaker answers.

Diamond lets go of the button on the intercom as she says with surprise under her breath, “Silver Spoon?”

“Actually, I'm surprised that Scootaloo is here as well,” Sweetie adds behind and to the left of Diamond. When Sweetie speaks, Diamond turns her head only halfway to look back at Sweetie out of the corner of Diamond's left eye.

Noticing that she has Diamond's attention, Sweetie Belle shrugs. “This may be unexpected, but we should find out why they have come at the very least. What if it's urgent?

“Scootaloo told me she was going home, and she can't make the trip out here easily by herself. She barely has enough change for the bus.

“Come to think of it,” Sweetie looks up as she places her left pointing finger on her lips, “she doesn't need the change. She has a Student Bus Pass, but it wouldn't be good this late in the evening.”

“Then the answer is obvious,” I say. “Logic dictates that Silver Spoon is the most likely suspect for delivering Scootaloo here. As for why Silver is here, Scootaloo might have shared with her your secret,” I tell Diamond directly.

“She wouldn't!” Sweetie objects. “She swore!”

“Oh, that sounds ironclad!” I sarcastically remark to Sweetie. “I'm sure that argument will hold up in the court of law.”

Sweetie pouts at me, then her expression softens as she looks back at Diamond. “Why are we debating this? Let's just go up and check on them.”

Diamond looks back at the intercom, then resumes pressing a button on it as she speaks, “Let them in through the front gate. As for the entrance to the mansion, I'll greet them myself.”



* * *





Diamond opens up the front door to the mansion. Beyond, we do indeed see Scootaloo and Silver Spoon, which is a bit surprising since I heard they had some pretty violent spats over the last two months with each other.

Scootaloo's outfit has not changed for the most part that I notice. The only difference is the fact that her backpack looks a little more full.

As for Silver Spoon, she is wearing her traditional gray dress with white trimming. The rims of her glasses are made of actual silver, from what I can tell. Also, as usual, she has her white hair done up neatly into a single braided ponytail.

The moment Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon's eyes meet each other, everything pauses in awkward silence as they continue to stare at each other.

“Do you think she knows?” Sweetie Belle whispers to me tentatively.

Dang it, Sweets, I already told you my theory!

Everyone, except me, gets surprised and startled when Silver Spoon suddenly slaps Diamond Tiara on the right cheek with her left hand.

“Yeah,” I confirm with eyes halfway closed. “She knows.”

Diamond seems especially stunned. She blinks her otherwise very wide eyes as she lightly touches her right cheek for a moment, then asks, “Silver Spoon, you-”

Silver Spoon interrupts her by slapping Diamond's other cheek with her other hand. This one probably stung a little more considering some of the rings Silver wore on her right hand.

“Will you STOP HITTING ME?!” Diamond cries in outrage at Silver Spoon, but she's caught off guard for the third time in a row when Silver Spoon races forward and suddenly embraces Diamond in a tight hug.

Diamond appears to freeze while Silver practically kisses Diamond's right shoulder, then she quietly says to Diamond's ear, “Only if you promise to stop being stupid.”

I take a step forward in front of Diamond so I can gauge her reaction to this better. That turns out to be a good strategy because I quickly notice pain sink deep into Diamond's face and eyes. She almost looks like she's about to cry.

I blink at this as I wonder why beholding this makes me feel so empty inside.

“Silver, I-” Diamond tentatively began but was interrupted by Silver again. It's as if Silver is determined to keep her former “friend” from speaking at all.

“SHUT UP!” Silver barks harshly while still hugging Diamond. “You don't get to speak until you have something intelligent to say.”

Suddenly Silver Spoon seems to gather her composure. She steps back from the hug and straightens her dress neatly with a few tugs on it. After that, she gathers her hands in front of her and speaks to Diamond with a serious business expression.

“Now then,” Silver says in a dignified way, “you may now speak as long as the first words to come out of your mouth is, 'Please, Silver Spoon, do come into my home.'”

Diamond moves her mouth but her mind seems too numb to speak coherently. The only response from Silver Spoon is a sharp, judgmental look as she raises an eyebrow a bit at Diamond.

Diamond shakes her head as she struggles to compose herself as well. She then takes a step back, gestures into her mansion, and says, “Please, Silver Spoon, do come into my home.”

“Thank you,” Silver replies in the same dignified tone then briskly strides in while keeping her gaze fixed forward at no one.

“Scootaloo,” Sweetie began while glaring at her friend accusingly who is still standing outside.

“I know, I know!” Scootaloo says quickly as she raises her hands as if to defend herself. “I shouldn't have told her, but I just couldn't help myself.”

“I told you this in confidence! I trusted you!” Sweetie continues to accuse.

Scootaloo sighs, then says, “In my defense, I did this for you.”

“Huh?” Sweetie cocks her head at Scootaloo curiously. Her anger seems to almost instantly vanish.

If she isn't faking, I kind of admire that.

“You carried this burden by yourself for too long!” Scootaloo says passionately while her eyes become misty. “To tell you the truth, I could care less about Diamond fucking Tiara herself, but you . . . you are one of my dearest friends! I just couldn't abandon you to this fate alone.”

“Ah . . . hello.” I raise my hand by bending my elbow. I raise my right hand to the level of my shoulder. “I'm standing right here. Don't I count for something?”

Scootaloo sniffs and wipes away her tears then looks at me in confusion. “Yeah, I've been wondering about that. Why are you here anyway? Why do you care what happens to Diamond?”

I raise an eyebrow at Scootaloo, then say, “You really should think things through before you flap your mouth. Did you seriously just ask me why I would be concerned about the welfare of two of the most senior staff members of my Student Council?”

“Oh!” Scootaloo looks forward at nothing with wide eyes. “Oh yeah! That makes sense!”

“It's called critical thinking,” I scold Scootaloo as I cross my arms across my chest. “You should try it sometime.”

Damn it, Cozy! Calm down! You're supposed to be in “good cop” mode right now.

I don't know what it is, but I've been off my game lately. It's really pissing me off!

“I guess you were right about Scootaloo telling Silver Spoon,” Sweetie commends me with an empty voice. “I guess you really are a certified genius.”

Meanwhile, the three of us are still standing at the front entrance to the mansion.

“Being a genius doesn't give me omni-knowledge,” I say back to Sweetie Belle. “I wish it did, but I had to wait for evidence to confirm my theory. Same as you.”

“Is Apple Bloom coming too?” Sweetie Belle checks with Scootaloo.

“You know, I had thought about it,” Scootaloo admits as she focuses back on Sweetie. “She did give me her phone number and all and said to call her if I needed anything, but she lives out so far and . . .” Scootaloo pauses as she rubs the back of her neck with a look of embarrassment, “. . . I didn't want to tell her that we were heading out to Diamond Tiara's place, of all places, without giving her a valid excuse.

“I told Silver because I truly thought she should know. They've been best friends for years so I figured she was the best person to take over your job for ya, but Apple Bloom . . .” Scootaloo winces, “. . . it just didn't feel right to tell her everything just because I wanted her company tonight along with you.

“At the same time, I don't like keeping secrets from my dearest friends. It just doesn't feel right. You know what I’m saying?”

“Now you know how I felt these past two months!” Sweetie Belle expresses with a bit of mist in her own eyes. “But . . . I'm really glad you're here at least. Now you can join us with our slumber party!”

“That's the plan,” Scootaloo agrees. “Look, just to be clear, I'm not going to have fun. There's no way I'd feel like that while in Diamond's presence, of all people! I'm truly here for you, Sweetie Belle, because you're one of my best friends.”

Sweetie Belle rushes forward to embrace her friend in a tight hug, then gently whispers, “Thank you,” to Scootaloo's ear.

“Aw!” Scootaloo's face starts glowing red as she rubs the back of her neck again. “Stop it! You know I don't like it when you get all mushy on me.”

“Well too bad!” Sweetie Belle pulls away from Scootaloo while wearing a bright, giddy smile. “We are girls, so it's our God-given right to act as mushy as we want to.

“Now come on!” Sweetie Belle grabs Scootaloo's left arm and literally pulls Scoots inside. “You got to check out this amazing mansion! It's so awesome inside!”

“H-hey!” Scootaloo yelps as she nearly stumbles while being pulled inside.

The sight of this makes me giggle.
> Chapter Twenty Six: Slumber Party, Part 3, Home Theater System
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

This time I am not the only one caught by surprise of the luxuries of this home, such as the private home theater system it has.

Diamond claims that her father, Filthy Rich, has used it several times for business meeting presentations. I can believe it. He seems to be the real breadwinner of the family.

In this room, Diamond Tiara sits on the most comfortable looking armchair that I'm tempted to call a throne. It can lean back, lift up a footstool, apparently has warming and massage features, remotely operates the home theater system, and it can communicate with other staff members of the mansion.

The latter she uses to contact the chefs in the kitchen. She placed two orders of popcorn, one order of strawberry milkshake, and one chocolate milkshake. These orders are for Silver Spoon and herself.

After that, Diamond looks about at the rest of us as she asks if we would like to order anything from the kitchen as well. Sweetie Belle immediately agreed with Diamond's order of popcorn and strawberry milkshake, although she admitted that chocolate sounded tempting too. Diamond asks if Sweetie Belle wants both, to which Sweetie shook her head and said she didn't want to get fat. Popcorn and strawberry milkshake ended up her final order.

Diamond turns to me and repeats her question. I pass on the popcorn because I hate it when the tiny corn kernels get stuck in my teeth, but I do approve of the strawberry milkshake. I also press my two pointing fingers together with embarrassment but an equal degree of hope as I ask her if the kitchen staff could also prepare for me a strawberry cheesecake.

I realize, when I ask for it, that it is a long shot, but strawberry cheesecake is my absolute favorite food in the whole world! Pinkie Pie was the first one to introduce it to me. I was seeing stars after my first bite. Like my pony counterpart, I felt like I was flying at that moment while my eyes shone with anime-style sparkles.

To my incredible surprise and delight, Diamond said sure. I double-checked by asking, “Really? You guys have that?” to which Diamond replies with a shrug, “Yeah. It's no big deal.”

No big deal? Are you freaking kidding me?! It's strawberry cheesecake! If I didn't secretly loathe your guts, Diamond Tiara, I could kiss you right now!

Diamond repeats my order to the kitchen staff. As she does so, I am shaking with giddy excitement. Ooo, I can't wait till that delicious heaven graces my mouth!

The kitchen staff approves of the order, but warns Diamond that preparing the cheesecake will take longer to prepare than the popcorn. They ask if she's sure about the order. Diamond glances at me and almost repeats their warning but sees me nodding vigorously before she even has a chance to speak.

I can't help it! It's strawberry cheesecake! For that, I am definitely willing to wait, although I will be brimming with anticipation until I take that first heavenly bite.

Looking forward again, Diamond confirms her order to the kitchen staff, then looks over at Scootaloo last, the final guest who has yet to order anything. However, in this case, Scootaloo rejects any offer because she is pouting over the fact that Diamond insists on playing soap operas using this theater system. Nobody else in the room seems to mind, including me, but Scootaloo seems insulted by that mushy and sappy stuff, which Diamond replied, “Too bad! My house, my rules! If you don't like it, you can just leave and go do something else instead.”

Scootaloo doesn't get that far. She stays because she promised to look after Sweetie Belle, but she seems to regret that decision at this moment. As a result, she seems to reject all of Diamond's offers for snacks just on principle.

It did not take long for Scootaloo to regret that decision as well, however, especially after the snacks arrive. In particular, the popcorn and the milkshakes arrive first. Once we start munching and sipping on those treats (for those who have it), I notice Scootaloo keeps looking at the popcorn and frowns with longing. I think I once hear her stomach growling as well, but she also looks very reluctant to inform the others that she’s changed her mind.

I don't have any popcorn, so I can't help to alleviate her situation, much to my chagrin. That makes me regret not placing an order for one after all.

However, when Sweetie Belle finally notices her friend's uncomfortable reaction and figures out why it's there, she offers to share her popcorn with her friend. In response, Scootaloo rolls her eyes and continues to try to act tough, but she ultimately accepts and claims it is for Sweetie Belle's sake.

I secretly smile fondly at Sweetie Belle. Over and over again she verifies my theory that she's an absolute sweetheart. That really is nice to see. After all, not everyone should be clever predators like me. Innocent dupes help the world go around too. I need those kinds of people for all the “lesser” tasks that are beneath me.

We pass a couple of hours in that room as we watch various soap operas. Everyone, except Scootaloo, soaks this up enthusiastically. In contrast, Scootaloo actually passes out due to sheer boredom.

During those two hours, my beloved strawberry cheesecake does indeed arrive! The moment I take my first bite, I am swimming in pure bliss!

I think some of the girls ask if they just discovered my favorite food, but I am unable to answer them. My mind is overloaded with pure pleasure!

That said, the quality isn't quite up to Pinkie Pie's standards. Somehow her desserts are equipped with just a little extra spice of magic in them. Regardless, a tiny step down from the best food in the world hardly matters to me.

It takes me a while to calm down. When I finally do, I look at the others and notice most of them giggle at me in amusement. Obviously they found my intensive reaction adorable.

I barely care. There is no way I am good enough of a liar to conceal how blissful I am whenever I eat a bite of strawberry cheesecake. I’m simply not that much of a perfectionist yet.

After two hours, we (with the sole exception of Scootaloo) spend about twenty minutes discussing and debating the show we just watched, especially about our theories where the relationships of the show may be going.

Despite my enthusiasm, I try not to participate too much because my predictions tend to be a little too accurate which could be viewed as a spoiler.

However, the other girls press me for details. Apparently they are too curious what a super genius like me might see in the show. I warn them one final time that the potential accuracy I may have about the show could act as major spoilers, but that only made them more curious.

Since they seem resolved, I tell them everything I thought about the show, including where I think it will go. To that end, I even predict the arrival of new characters to both resolve and cause other plot developments.

Once I finish, the other girls (again, excluding Scootaloo) debate with me a little bit but my arguments seem too solid for them to dispute with me much further. After that, they basically just shrug and admit I probably had a point.

I notice a bit of an empty look to their faces when they realize they now have a bit too much insight where their favorite show is likely to head.

Welcome to my world. I tried to warn you gals, but you didn't listen to me.

Well, not back then, anyway.

“You're really amazing, Cozy Glow!” Sweetie Belle commends me brightly. “I'm smart, but not that smart! I wish I could see the world the way you do.”

I crack a small smile in her direction. I do feel flattered, but a small part of me thinks she would be surprised how much she would regret that wish if it became true. I am seventy-five percent positive that her outlook on life would be considerably less innocent if she knew how the world really works.

“However, that said, I got to ask you something,” Sweetie Belle goes on which further secures my focused attention. “Do you ever get tired of your intellect helping you solve every mystery and surprise?”

“Well, first of all, I don't solve every mystery and surprise. Sometimes life doesn't give me enough evidence beforehand to anticipate something,” I inform her. “Instead, vast intellect merely reduces the number of surprises.

“I will say that has made my outlook in life a little jaded, and I often feel kind of bored about most things being predictable but, to tell you the truth, I still prefer it that way because I hate surprises.”

“You do?” Sweetie double-checks.

I nod. “I can't stand the thought of the chance that a surprise might end up bad.”

In an instant, the image of my pony counterpart frozen in stone flashes through my mind, causing me to shudder. That image will very likely haunt me for the rest of my life. Even if the residents of Horse-Land do end up freeing her, as they claimed, the fact that they were so okay with her condition like that in the first place makes my skin crawl.

It is so unnerving to witness a world that innocent-looking suddenly reveal such a sinister side to it.

Ironically, it reminds me of myself.

“Well, I guess that show is ruined for me now,” Diamond Tiara admits as she sighs and sinks her left cheek into her fist. Her elbow of that fist rests on the arm of her chair. “Thank you very much, Cozy Glow, for your amazing insight.”

“Hey, I warned you all!” I remind them in my defense.

This time Diamond sighs in resignation. “Yes, you did. I guess I should be more careful about what I wish for.”

“Well, let's watch something else,” Sweetie Belle proposes. “Ooo! I know! Instead of soap operas, how about we watch real opera!”

“As in stage singing and all that?” Silver Spoon checks.

“Yeah!” Sweetie confirms highly enthusiastically. “I really love to sing! La-la-LA-LAAAAAAA!” She sings to demonstrate her love for it. She rises an octave with each “la” she sings.

“Hmm.” Diamond Tiara looks at her giant television screen across the room with a thoughtful look on her face. “I don't believe we recorded any operas yet on our DVR system. However, I'm virtually certain we got something like that on demand.” She shrugs. “At the very least, I'm pretty sure I can find some kind of classical, musical movie.”

“Ooo! Then put on a classic fairy tale movie from Disney!” Sweetie Belle excitedly encourages. 

“Well, one of us is still asleep, so I guess her vote is out,” Silver Spoon remarks as she observes Scootaloo still asleep and quietly snoring, although just barely audible.

“What do you think, Silver Spoon?” Diamond asks to offer the choice of what to view next.

Silver Spoon shrugs. “I don't really care too much. I'm just glad to finally be hanging out with you.”

“Yeah. Me too,” Diamond Tiara verbally agrees but, to me, she actually seems bittersweet about that idea. The truth is, she seems conflicted on that point.

“You were trying to protect me, weren't you?” Silver Spoon guesses as if she also picked up on her friend’s discomfort as well as surmising a reason for it. “You wanted me to hate you so I wouldn't grieve as much if you did manage to kill yourself.”

Diamond shrugs only slightly while looking down very sadly. “I mostly just thought about it.”

“You were doing a lot more than that when I checked on you two months ago!” Sweetie Belle reminds Diamond sharply. “I'll never get that image out of my head!”

Diamond's face scrunches bitterly. “Well . . . that's what you get for barging on me in the bathroom without my permission!”

“Still, I'm glad I did!” Sweetie insists. “It taught me that you needed help, and I'm going to be there to help you with that. I don't care how much you mistreated me in the past. Nobody deserves a fate like you were trying to do to yourself!”

“Huh? What?” Scootaloo suddenly woke up because of the intensity and volume of Sweetie Belle when she said the word, “nobody”. Based on Scootaloo's clearly incoherent and tired face, I can tell she's far from fully awake yet.

Sweetie Belle looks at Scootaloo for a brief moment and says, “Sorry for waking you.”

“What?” Scootaloo rubs her sleepy face. “What's going on? Is the show over already?”

“Let's change the subject,” Sweetie Belle suddenly decides, still looking a bit depressed but also determined to reverse that.

It takes her only four seconds to come up with an idea that suddenly brightens her up.

“OOO-OOO! I know what to do!” Sweetie Belle springs from her seat then whirls around to address the rest of us. “It's more like something to do later rather than just tonight, but how would you girls like to go out sometime and sing in karaoke?”

Sweetie Belle seems honestly astonished, and even a little horrified, that none of us jump out of our seats in equal enthusiasm.

“Come on, girls! It will be fun!” Sweetie Belle encourages. “Music is good for the soul! It is a surefire way to lift all of us out of our depression!”

“Depends what we sing,” Silver Spoon argues.

“Well, true. I'll give you that,” Sweetie agrees. “But come on!” She cheers back up again. “It will still be fun, and it's something we can all do together, or we can take turns.

“Diamond Tiara, you especially need this,” Sweetie tells her somewhat insistently. “Besides, you're good at it! I haven't heard you sing too often. In fact, it's been many years, come to think of it. But, of the few times I have heard you sing, you can really bellow it out! I think you have a lot of bottled-up emotions built inside of you. If you sing, it will be a chance for you to let it all out! It's therapeutic!”

“I do kind of miss our duets,” Silver Spoon mentions offhandedly to her old friend with a bit of a hopeful look in her eyes. “It has been a while, and Sweetie Belle is right about you. You do have a lovely singing voice.”

“I doubt if I do anymore,” Diamond mopes.

“Come on! You'll never know until you try!” Sweetie Belle strongly encourages. “What do you have to lose? You were going to kill yourself anyway! At worst, you'll continue to feel bad, but at best, you'll find a renewed reason to live!” Sweetie Belle claps her hands and lifts them in front of her. “Pleeeeeease consider it! I'm begging you!”

“We don't have to do it tonight, in any case,” Silver brought up. “No harm in at least thinking about it.”

Diamond looks up to Sweetie's eyes and asks, “Is it really that important to you?”

Sweetie nods enthusiastically as she says, “Uh-huh!”

Diamond gives a long-winded sigh in slight irritation, but a small, grateful smile touches her lips and her eyes as she continues to regard Sweetie Belle.

“Well, I guess I do owe you a lot of favors for trying to help take care of me,” Diamond acknowledges. “I suppose I am eager to even the score.”

With every word Diamond spoke, Sweetie's body quaked with excitement more and more. By the time Diamond said the word “score”, I could practically hear and see steam spewing from Sweetie Belle's ears due to the exciting pressure in her skull.

Diamond appears charmed by Sweetie's adorable reaction. That excited look from the other girl apparently solidified Diamond's decision.

“Okay, Sweetie Belle. I'll do this for you,” Diamond concedes.

“YAY!!” Sweetie cries out and leaps into the air with her arms stretched up. After that, she looks at Scootaloo and asks her, “What about you, Scoot? You in?”

Scootaloo shrugs casually. “Sure. I'm down for that. You know I like singing with you, especially with the songs you write.” She puts a finger to her lips in thought. “You know, Apple Bloom would probably appreciate being invited too. The only reason she'd hesitate is if she hears that these two are coming along as well.” Scootaloo looks back and forth between Silver Spoon and Diamond Tiara. “No offense, but we kind of remember you more as being bullies rather than friends.”

Silver Spoon shrugs indifferently to that comment, but Diamond actually looks mortified. Seeing that really surprises Scootaloo and me. In response, Scootaloo rubs the back of her neck nervously. I'm starting to notice she does that fairly frequently whenever she is uncomfortable.

“Um, well . . . Cozy Glow!” Scootaloo looks at me anxiously, hoping the change of subject will save her. “How about you? Will you join us for karaoke too?”

After Scootaloo asks me that, suddenly all of the girls look at me.

A reflexive shy instinct tries to rush and claim me for a second, but I squash it with my public speaking training.

“Well . . . I suppose I could,” I say. “However, I don't have too much experience with singing. Instead, I have more practice with the violin.”

“You play the violin?” Diamond asks me with a rather sudden rising interest. “Oh, that's so cool. Are you any good at it?”

“Good?” I echo. “I've been offered a scholarship to Julliard because of some of my past recitals. Does that answer your question?”

All of the girls, except for Scootaloo, regard me in stunned awe. Even Silver Spoon stops what she is doing with her cellphone to look up at me in shock.

Scootaloo, however, is looking at everyone else, wondering why that news should be so surprising.

“Are you serious?!” Silver Spoon asks me in stunned surprise.

“That's so cool!” Sweetie Belle tells in amazement as she presses both of her hands into her cheeks. “Aw man! I'm so jealous! I wish I could go.”

“What is Julliard?” Scootaloo asks in confusion. “I'm assuming it's some kind of egghead college?”

“Are you kidding me?!” Sweetie Belle asks her friend in stunned disbelief.

“Julliard is one of the most prestigious schools in the world for art and music,” Diamond informs Scootaloo then asks towards me, “You are going to go, right? They don't just hand out scholarships to schools like that everyday.”

“I'm not sure,” I answer with a shrug. I feel inward wicked giddiness as I see an opportunity to rub something in Little Miss Prissy's face. “Several other Ivy League colleges have also offered a scholarship when I graduate from Canterlot. Considering all that, I thought it best to take my time and weigh all the choices before deciding on anything.”

“Huh.” Diamond looks down, once again depressed. “And you called me wealthy.”

“Some people are born with wealth, and others with talent, I guess,” I surmise.

“And some are born with neither,” Scootaloo says with a frown.

In response, I frown back at her. I wanted to stab Diamond in the heart, and I apparently succeeded, but it seems Scootaloo is also wounded in the crossfire.

Damn. I haven't thought of that. Of everyone in this room, Scootaloo has the least wealth or intellect. Maybe I should be more grateful for the gifts I do have, and more tactful with the words I say.

“You have to attend Julliard!” Sweetie Belle strongly encourages me. “Oh, can you perform for us too? If you are really that good, I'd love to see you play!”

“I do have another recital set up in a couple of months,” I inform Sweetie Belle in an attempt to cheer her up.

“Aw! Two months? But that's so far away!” Sweetie complains instead.

I frown. “Well, I didn't think to pack my violin with me this time. Maybe next time I will.” Then I brighten as an idea occurs to me. “However . . . I can show you old footage my mother recorded of me back when I was little. I have it on my cellphone.”

“Ooo-ooo! Yes! Put that on!” Sweetie Belle excitedly encourages me.

I look behind her at the giant screen ahead of most of us with a thoughtful look, then I pull my cellphone from my purse and start operating it. While I do so, I say, “I got a better idea. If I can access the network here at this home, I can download it and display it on the giant screen in front of us.”

“That's a great idea!” Scootaloo cheers enthusiastically.

I pause for a moment as I look at her questioningly. “Really? You want to see this too?”

Scootaloo looks surprised and a little offended at my reaction, but she says pleasantly, “Well, sure! I love it when I see others display their talents. It helps me to appreciate them as unique individuals.” Scootaloo gets a dreamy look. “Sometimes I think that, when I grow up, I want to be someone who encourages everyone to show off their natural talent. Maybe a stage director or judge or . . . I don’t know. Something along those lines.”

“Huh.” I look back and resume typing on my phone. “I learn something everyday.”

I encounter a roadblock, so I look to Diamond and ask her, “What is your network password?”

“Just hand it to me,” Diamond requests as she reaches for my phone. “I'll type it in for you.”

I quickly clean my screen with a bit of alcohol pads then hand her my phone while hiding a wicked grin and glint in my eyes because I know that the screen she is about to type her password in isn't the screen for the network. I know it looks like the network screen, but that's because I took a screenshot of the real network window. Using that image as a template, I disguise the window she's about to type her password in. When she types her password into it, she is actually typing it into my phone instead. My phone, in turn, will send the password to the real network router and log onto it, but with a twist. Once the phone is in, it will download a virus into her system which will inform me if the password ever gets changed. That, in turn, will allow me to access the electronic systems in her house, such as her security cameras!

Diamond doesn't know it, but she's handing the devil the keys to her private network system. Once I have my foot in the door, she'll never be able to get me out!

But let it not be said that this devil's bargain was made over nothing. I will indeed reward her stupidity with the very thing she sought in the first place. It's a small price to pay to get one step closer to dominating her life.

Besides, I feel like bragging anyway.

“There you go. You're in,” Diamond informs me as she hands me back my phone.

“Thank you so much!” I tell her with a bright smile while I'm laughing maniacally on the inside.

When I get my cellphone back, I secretly peel off the screen protector on the phone and stash it carefully in my purse because it now has Diamond Tiara's thumbprints on it. That might come in handy later. Because I cleaned the screen before handing the phone to her, those prints couldn't have come from anyone else anymore.

I access their network then drop the file they want (and much more) into their on-demand folder. When I'm done with that, I help Tiara find the file using her remote. Once she does and presses play, the video file plays on the big screen.

In it, the file displays my twelve-year-old self shortly after my mother bought me my violin.

“Aw! Cozy, you're so precious!” Sweetie squeals affectionately. “You look like a little doll at that age and outfit.”

Of course. That's the point. The cuter I am, the more disarming I am, and the easier it becomes to manipulate others. As I grew older, my manipulation tactics started to shift, but I'm not ready to totally abandon my cutesy-wootsy ways just yet. Rest assured, however, that when I am the president of this country, I will be wearing professional business attire by then.

“How old were you in this video?” Silver asks me curiously.

“Twelve,” I answer quickly. “Mother just bought me the violin two weeks before this recording.”

“So you only had two weeks of practice before this?” Silver asks me in amazement.

I nod.

I can see why she is stunned. I play that violin like I have mastered it for decades.

With most things in my life, I typically excel because I am an analytical genius but, with the violin, I don't know. It feels different somehow, as if I'm channeling a different part of my soul.

More than anything else in the world, my music conveys my true emotions.

“Wow! Even I can tell this is incredible work!” Scootaloo says in amazement. “You really are very gifted, Cozy Glow. I can see why your mom is so proud of you.” She then looks at me in a mystified way as she says, “But I'm wondering something.”

“Yeah?” I look at Scootaloo.

“Why is your music . . . so sad in the video?”

“Yeah, I was wondering that too,” Sweetie Belle seconded as she also looked at me.

“I, ah . . . don't know.” I look back at the video solemnly. “I think it's because, back at that age, I still missed my birth parents.”

I catch something interesting out of the corner of my eye that draws my attention back to Scootaloo. For some reason, something I said really strikes a nerve with her.

And Diamond, apparently. In fact, she seems affected far more profoundly. As I watch her, I see her crying quietly in her seat.

In both cases, I wonder why.
> Chapter Twenty Seven: Slumber Party, Part 4, The True Hour
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Since I made such a big deal last year to raise enough funds to build a swimming pool in Canterlot High, Diamond Tiara offers to take me to her own private swimming pool at the back of the mansion which is, basically, a part of their backyard.

I accept.

I only calculated a thirty-nine percent chance that the Rich family would have their own swimming pool, and possibly also a jacuzzi (and I was right, but the latter is indoors in two places), but I still considered those odds high enough to bring my own swim gear. As it turns out, I am glad I came prepared. That is what it means to be a perfectionist.

Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon also dress into their own swim gear, but they barely did more than put their legs into the water the whole time. For the most part, they just relax on the pool strap lounge chairs.

It does not surprise me at all that Scootaloo did not bring any swim gear. After all, coming to this home was a spur of the moment decision for her. Besides, I'm not sure if she even has a swimsuit. If she does, it's most likely a gift from Rainbow Dash.

However, the fact that Sweetie Belle isn't prepared does kind of surprise me. She watched over Diamond like a hawk for the past two months. That's long enough to realize that the Rich family have their own swimming pool, and Sweetie also strikes me as a girl who normally comes prepared. She also strikes me as honest, which is why I'm surprised that she claims she did not bring swim gear.

As for my swimsuit, it is a single-piece swimsuit that my mother used to wear when she was my age, hence the deep purple color. It does not match my complexion, so Rarity would be offended at me, but this swimsuit is a bit sentimental for me nonetheless.

I also wear swim goggles and a swim cap, even though I know I'll have to straighten my hair again when I'm done with it.

I feel a little self-conscious about the fact that I am the only girl here who seriously uses the swimming pool, but I don't let that stop me. I use it for a half-hour straight just doing swimming laps back and forth in the pool. I push myself especially hard during the middle fifteen minutes. I warm up, swim hard, then cool back down using all the techniques I learned from swim class.

During this time I sort of sink into a trance. The stress and woes of my life just drift away as I swim in the water.

It's just me and the water. That moment feels pure.

When I step out of the water, Scootaloo remarks in an admiring tone how swift and graceful I was in the water. As I look at her while toweling myself off, it occurs to me that Scootaloo has been giving me too many compliments lately. The most likely cause is she's jealous of me, and she's unlikely to be the only one.

That is quite an epiphany for me. As I crawl onto and relax on the pool lounge chairs, it dawns on me that I actually do have a pretty swell life considering how badly Little Miss Prissy severely derailed it once. Despite that, my life turned out pretty darn okay.

While relaxing and stretching on the lounge chair, I think back to why this is true, and the most likely reason is all the wonderful adults that have raised me over the years. My birth parents were perfect. Indeed, too perfect to tolerate me.

As for my new mother, it's like she's a bio-engineered super mom from the future. It's like everything about her is designed to be perfect for me in the right way, or at least very darn close to perfection. The right level of nerdiness. The right level of affection. The right number of useful resources. The right level of naivetés.

There is also the fact that my mom is magical. That felt like overkill. It's like that totally amazing detail about her is tossed in as a mere afterthought, like saying, “She's a genius who can identify with you like no other. She loves you, she supports you, she provides for you in just the right way, she gives you technology at least fifty years ahead of your time, and . . . Oh YEAH! She's also magical to boot, like a magical fairy tale princess from a story book. Just a little something extra for ya to think about in case all of her previous qualities doesn't sell her to you.”

The only problem with my mother is that it's exhausting work to remain worthy of her love, but she makes it worth it.

As for the rest of my mother's friends, they are wonderful human beings too, but thinking of them stabs a pang of guilt in me about Sunset.





* * *





I lean forward as I peer carefully at my reflection in the mirror in Diamond Tiara's personal bathroom next to her bedroom. Using the mirror as a guide, I carefully curl my hair in tiny round plastic bits to retrain my hair’s shape after swimming.

Feeling satisfied after I put in the last piece, I look at my shirt in the reflection. It is an overly long shirt that goes past my waist, but it is the only article of clothing I am wearing at the moment other than my tiny bra and normal-sized panties. The shirt in question is a deep pink shirt that says in sparkling rainbow letters that spell out, “My superpower is being CUTE!” A single rainbow arches over the text. It ends in two pointy silver stars at each end of the rainbow.

The reflection in the window reverses the text, of course, but I know what it says regardless.

I grab the bottom of the long shirt to tug at it in order to straighten it.

Yeah. That seems good. I look presentable at this point, so I rejoin the others.

I exit the bathroom. Reflexively, I reach to turn off the light switch while simultaneously forgetting that there is an automatic sensor for this bathroom. Most of the rooms in my mother's house are like this too, so it's strange that I have the subconscious habit of reaching for something that isn't there.

I pause to soak everything ahead of me when I enter Diamond's bedroom.

The bedroom itself is a lot smaller and more modest-looking than I expected, but most of the items within it are fairly high quality, if not better. Her bed kind of reminds me of my own except far more mature looking.

She, too, has a computer desk in one corner which probably doubles up as a study desk.

Directly to my right, there is another room which is a walk-in closet. Diamond showed it to me a moment ago. She has many drawers full of different kinds of shoes. At the end of the closet is an electronic rotating coat rack where she hung up all kinds of clothes. There is also a tall mirror that hangs on the door facing the inside of the walk-in closet.

All I could think at the time when I saw all of this was, “Yep. She's a girl, alright, albeit a very rich girl.”

To the left of that walk-in closet is one corner of the room, then along that wall is a makeup station with a tall oval mirror.

As for the girls themselves, Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon are both sitting on Diamond's bed. Sweetie Belle is sitting on a chair next to the left side if facing towards the foot of the bed. Sitting on the floor with one knee tucked close to her is Scootaloo who is using Diamond Tiara's bed as a backrest.

I am both irked and amused to notice that all four girls are typing or swiping away at their cellphones. Even Scootaloo is doing this despite being the poorest one of the bunch.

I can't say I'm not guilty of partaking in this activity often myself, but seeing this in front of me causes me to inwardly shake my head and think, “Kids these days.”

“So,” I say aloud, instantly winning the attention of all four girls, “I know I'm new to this 'slumber party' thing but is it really proper protocol for me to send you all a text message to get your attention?”

My comment causes Sweetie Belle to snicker.

Diamond looks at the others in a bit of surprise as if realizing, for the first time, that what they are doing is a bit ridiculous.

“Do you have a better suggestion?” Silver asks me in a snappy, snarky tone.

“Ooo! I know!” Sweetie brightens. “How about we all use your slumber party cellphone app?!”

“Excuse me?!” Silver asks Sweetie in disbelief as if convinced she misheard the girl.

“Trust me,” Diamond lifts a hand to her adjacent friend, “don't ask.” She then regards me. “I don't think we need it, but it's true that we should probably be more social with each other, I guess. If we're all going to sit in the same room together for a few hours, we might as well do what girls specialize in.”

On the floor while looking at no one, Scootaloo gives a two-finger salute as she says, “Gotcha. Resuming attention on my cellphone.”

“No, dang it! Put that thing away now!” Diamond demands. “Cozy's right. We should all talk to each other while we're together. That's proper protocol, right?”

“Talk about what?” Scootaloo challenges as she raises her tushie up a bit to put away her cellphone in her back pants pocket before sitting back down.

I wince at that. That's such a bad idea. It's why so many cellphone screens get cracked. I treat the gifts my mother gave me with way more respect.

Well . . . except for that time I chucked away my smart glasses out of fear and frustration. I'm still a bit afraid that “Dark King” fellow will appear again the next time I use my smart glasses, cellphone, or home computer.

“I don't think there is a 'proper protocol' when it comes to slumber parties,” Silver Spoon remarks offhandedly.

I cross my arms, give a snarky expression to Silver, and tell her, “Obviously you haven't met my mother yet.”

“Yes I have! Plenty of times!” Silver argues. “She's principal of our school, for crying out loud.”

I shake my head in denial at Silver. “I mean really met my mother,” I clarify.

“Huh.” Silver looks spooked. “Maybe that's for the best.”

“Oh! I know!” Scootaloo scoots away from the foot of the bed and spins about on the floor so she can see all of us. “How about we dim the lights, turn on candle lights, and tell each other spooooooooooky stories!”

“Yeah, or how about not,” Silver rejects.

“Really?” Scootaloo looks to each of us, in turn, to see if she can gather any support for her suggestion. Seeing none, she waves us off. “Bah! You gals are no fun.”

“Maybe Truth or Dare?” Sweetie brings up with an innocent shrug.

Diamond appraises me for a few seconds for some reason, then declares, “Or how about we just play, ‘The True Hour.’”

“‘True Hour?’” Scootaloo echoes questioningly with a confused wince. “What's that?”

“Not even I'm familiar with that one,” Silver admits as she looks at Diamond questioningly. “And, out of all of us here, I’ve known you the longest.”

“It's a new game,” Diamond announces. “It's really simple. We all take a pledge together that, for the next hour, we speak the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.”

Scootaloo lifts two fingers beside her head, facing upward, as she adds, “So help me God.”

“I'm being serious!” Diamond assures. “For the next hour, the only lie we can tell is silence.” She looks back at me. “I think we need to clear the air a bit of all the filthy web of lies in our life.” She looks across the others. “If we're going to get to know each other as friends, and since you all seem so determined to butt your way into my life, let's all find out how we really stand with each other.

“Sound good?”

Diamond looks across each of us one by one to see if we agree to her proposal in any way. Eventually she gets an agreement from each of us.

“Okay then.” Silver Spoon slaps her cellphone down on Diamond's bed beside her while she looks at Diamond with a very serious expression. “I'll go first.

“Diamond, why did you attempt to kill yourself?”

“Because I'm not happy,” Diamond replies immediately as if she anticipated that question. “I haven't been for a long time. In fact, I'm not really sure if I know what happiness even feels like. On the contrary, I've been quite miserable all of my life.”

I stare at her, inwardly feeling shocked.

Meanwhile I'm the only one still standing in the room, facing the others.

“I know, to many of you, it must seem like I've been born with a winning lottery ticket,” Diamond goes on, “but there is a steep price for all this wealth. It’s severe enough to make me seriously question if all of this is worth it.

“Let me ask you all something. How much wealth do you think you would accept if you knew the price for it is your ability to be happy?”

I notice that Silver Spoon is the only one who seems to know where Diamond is going with her point. Everyone else looks taken aback.

Including me.

“Maybe it depends what makes you happy?” Sweetie brought up. “I know many people say that money can't buy happiness, but I don't think it necessarily costs happiness either.”

“You'd be surprised,” Diamond warns Sweetie Belle. “In a way, you are right, but that money has to be earned somehow. The money itself is innocent, but the method to acquire it might not be.”

“What do you mean?” Scootaloo wonders. “Is your family involved in dirty business?”

“Sometimes I wonder,” Diamond admits. “Officially, no. Of course not. Nobody writes on their resume, 'I am a street hustler'. If there is dirty money cycling around here, then I'm unaware of it, although it wouldn't surprise me too much if I found out we owed a mob boss some favors somewhere down our family line.

“Power corrupts, and great wealth can attract the worst sort of people. I've had to grow up with that possibility all my life.

“None of you, except for Silver Spoon, know how empty it feels to live our lives knowing that ninety percent of people we meet are being disingenuous to us. Instead, they'll tell us whatever they think we want to hear so they can take advantage of us and our money. Very few are really trying to be a true friend. Instead, we constantly have to guard ourselves from abuse.

“So I ask again . . . how much wealth would you charge in exchange for your ability to be happy in life?

“I remind you, this is ‘The True Hour’ game. You must tell the whole truth here if you speak for the next hour.”

Scootaloo sighs, then says, “Since you put it that way, there isn't any degree of a price I'd give up for my ability to be happy because, if I made that devil's bargain, it would be impossible to enjoy what I've gained so it just isn't worth it.”

“What about someone who is always miserable anyway?” Sweetie Belle wonders aloud. “If they had money, at least they could afford security and good food and lots of other stuff.”

“That might be different,” Scootaloo admits, “but I'm not that bad off.”

Scootaloo looks down in depression as she sadly admits, “I've suffered through a lot of shit in my life, and I do mean a lot of shit. More than I think I truly deserve.”

Scootaloo pulls both of her knees close to her chest, then admits, “I guess the part of my life that bothers me the most is the fact that my parents died.”

I could feel a heavy weight descend upon the room. Nobody dares to poke fun at an issue that serious, although I calculate high odds that Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon used to, or would have, earlier in their youth.

“They lived a dangerous career,” Scootaloo goes on, “but they handled it very professionally. My parents roamed out in the wilds to track elusive wild animals in order to study them. They were very good at their job, too. I'm talking about creatures that can rip your arms off as if they were made of chewing gum, but they knew how to handle them.”

“Then how did they die?” Silver Spoon asks in a spooked tone.

Scootaloo rests her chin on her knees. Tears start to rise to her eyes as she says, “It's stupid. From what I've been told, they suffered only a few scratches and injuries while they chased the wild animals. That in itself was fine, but it turns out they were far less prepared for much tinier life forms. It was a disease that ultimately killed them both. Several of the camera crews caught the same sickness too, from what I heard, although some of them made it in the end.”

We look down sadly.

Scootaloo turns her face into her knees. When next she speaks, she sounds a bit muffled because her mouth is so close to her knees.

“For years, I didn't believe it! I couldn't believe it! I was just a kid. Nobody that age wants to hear about the fact that their parents are never coming home. That our entire world died.

“I tried so hard to deny it! I dreamed about them, and I frequently saw them out of the corner of my eye or thought I heard them in a crowd. Even without evidence of any kind, I continued to look up at the stars and talk to them, convinced they were looking up at the same stars that I was.

“I grew angry and resentful at anyone that accused me of losing my parents. Some teased me about this deliberately, and others tried to tell me kindly. I ignored the latter, and I downright attacked the former. I'd leap upon them and hit them over and over again as I shouted at them, 'You take that BACK! You take that BACK, damn it! You don't know ANYTHING! My parents aren't dead! You'll see! You'll all see! They're coming for me! I just have to be patient.'”

Nobody else says a word in the room.

Certainly I, of all people in this room, know what it feels like to be lost in the adoption system.

I honestly don't know what's worse. Parents who want to stay but are forced to leave by death, or parents who are alive and leave by choice.

I guess I, at least, have a little bit of hope of seeing my birth parents again. All they'd have to do is change their minds. I've been working very, very hard to earn that possibility.

“But . . .” Scootaloo resumes in a whimper, “ . . . I was being an immature fool. Even though I knew that people could die, some part of me was desperately trying to convince myself that my parents were somehow immortal. That there is no possible way they could abandon me like this.

“But they did, and I was being a fool.”

Sweetie Belle crawls off her seat, scoots next to her friend and hugs Scootaloo to her side.

A few minutes pass in silence before finally being broken by Scootaloo herself.

“So,” she sniffs and wipes her tears away from her face. She oddly wears a smug and daring smile all of a sudden. “How's that for a truth bomb! Beat that, y'all!”

I look around at the others, then look back at Scootaloo as I admit, “Yeah, that's going to be a pretty tough one to beat.”

“Did you have any good memories with your parents?” Silver Spoon asks Scootaloo, which takes Scootaloo aback.

“What are you talking about? Of course I did! I especially loved our camping trips. It was the bomb!”

“Then you have that, at least,” Silver Spoon consoled. “Not all of us are that lucky.”

“Seriously?!” Scootaloo asks Silver skeptically.

Silver Spoon gazes forward into empty air as she says, “Let me tell you another story. A story about my life. Don't bother with the popcorn, though, it isn't too exciting or cheerful. It's exactly the opposite. My life is boring and depressing.

“In my home, it's all business. It's cold and sterile. We pass our time with empty small talk, if that. Nobody really cares or loves each other. We're really just strangers who know each other's names, live under the same roof, and are related by blood.

“In my life, I'm forced to be independent. Not in a practical sense, mind you. I've had servants weighing on me hand and foot all of my life, but they hardly say a word to me in any personal way.

“One maid tried once, but I heard she got scolded for it later.

“What I mean by 'independent' is in an emotional sense. Where I come from, we are all alone, even if we are in the company of other family members. I look around at our long rectangular table and I see people just eating quietly or mechanically reading the newspaper.

“They are just there. They feel as empty as shadows. They might as well be robots.

“I was only seven years old when I first realized that, in an emotional sense, I was the only one sitting at the table. I was truly alone.”

“Did you get along with anyone in your family?” Sweetie Belle asks Silver with anxious hope in her voice.

Silver looks cornerwise up as she thinks back on it, then answers, “My cousin, Sapphire Shine. She used to be kind to me.”

“Used to be?” Sweetie checks.

Silver looks at Sweetie as she says, “She's not dead, if that's what you are asking. It's just that I've not seen her in a very long time. We still write to each other on occasion, but it's been thinning over the years.”

Silver sighs as she shrugs. “We were just dumb little kids when we first met. I think she was five and I was seven. Maybe eight. We played together by doing simple things like, 'Hide and Seek'. With her, I discovered joy for the first time. It was just simple . . . innocent pleasure.

“In a way, however, I later wished I hadn't because that sensation was so rare in my life. It caused me to long for something that I rarely attained. If I had never known about it, I wouldn't miss what I was unaware existed in the first place.”

“That's so sad!” Sweetie moans. “But . . . at least you had Diamond as a friend, right?”

“That's true,” Silver agrees a little cheerfully as she looks at her best friend. “Diamond and I shared something in common. We both understood the burdens of a supposed life of 'privilege’. We both knew that many below our station envied us while simultaneously unaware of the emptiness that is our lives.

“When a warm light is found in so few places, the few places we do find it feel profound.”

“But that 'friendship' wasn't enough to cause you to want to live, Tiara?” I check as I gaze accusingly at Diamond.

Despite everything I've learned about these two tonight, I still can't help but loathe Diamond's guts.

“As I have said, there is a price for power that goes well beyond the sake of mere money,” Diamond put in. “It comes with a family that is not so forgiving of flaws. My family has very high standards of living in every possible way. They tell me to maintain those standards at all times, regardless of how I feel.

“I've been told my whole life what to do and what to say. Nobody else has shown me that there might be some better way. Instead, all I'm told is to swallow my feelings and shape up, even if a part of me longs for something much better.”

Diamond lifts up and gazes at her hands silently for a few seconds before saying, “If I am a diamond, then why do I feel as fragile as glass? Worse, glass that already has cracks in it.

“There is something jagged in me. I've felt that my whole life but, the more I realized that on a conscious level, the more I also realize that I'm trapped in this fate. Only death seems to offer any hope of escape.”

Diamond crosses her arms as she gives me a hard look.

“My mother pressured me hard to maintain my seat as Student Council President, but you went ahead and ripped that from me.”

I fight hard to resist gloating in victory. That was such a glorious day for me. Partly because of the power I won, and partly because I knew it hurt Diamond.

“You weren't the first to try,” Diamond went on, “but you were the first to give me a challenge. Every other attempt against my authority was pitiful, especially since I had so much money at my disposal to help me with my campaign.

“But you . . . you were something different. Something special. Almost otherworldly, much like your magical mother. I even suspected you cheated at times.”

Bingo! I did, in fact, cheat in many subtle ways!

Diamond Tiara narrows her eyes at me as she says, “At first I hated you! I despised you! How dare this little cutesy-wootsy, lowborn upstart challenge my authority!? At first I thought it was funny, but then I saw how you won over the crowd.

“And, although I didn't want to admit it at the time, you have a kind of intelligence and charisma that cowed even me.

“When you stood up on that podium, you commanded the crowd! You dominated the scene. It was like you were born for this. Even with your somewhat immature speech pattern, there was something about you that demanded attention. Nobody could ignore you. Not even me.”

I inwardly smile as I think back to the Dazzlings’ music.





“You didn't know that you fell

	Now that you're under our spell.”





That's politics one-oh-one, Little Miss Prissy! I beat you because I am your superior! Get used to it!

. . .

On second thought, I'd rather watch you squirm!

“Every question thrown at you was countered by a glib, witty retort. I can't blame that on prepared speeches on a hidden cue card. Those comments came from you, spur of the moment. You skillfully molded the crowd like a conductor in a symphony.

“I was warned that you were a certified genius, and in fact one of an unusually high caliber. Almost inhumanly high, but I didn't really think that could threaten me until you stood in front of that podium. So strong was your presence that you almost convinced me to vote for you!”

Diamond looks down in depression.

“It was about halfway through the campaign that I started to realize that I was doomed.

“Nevertheless, I kept at it. My pride would not allow me to quit. I thought I cornered you by targeting the most popular kids in school, and I did win most of them on my side, or so I thought. I figured that if I could get them on my side, then I'd also win the votes of everyone who looked up to them. It was a celebrity status campaign strategy.

“Meanwhile, you went for the computer nerds and hippy club and all the losers of the school. I grinned in smug pride, my confidence starting to return to me until the very end . . . when I heard the announcement of the votes over the school intercom.”

“The unpopular vastly outnumber the popular,” I inform Diamond. “It's simple numbers.

“Besides, some of those clubs had other ways to advance my strategy. Ignoring those 'computer nerds', as you so eloquently put it, cost you the running. With them on my side, they could spread e-mails to everyone on campus to post threads on web pages that people actually read.” I give a tsk-tsk wiggle of my fingers at Diamond. “Welcome to the information age, Diamond Tiara. Get with the program or be left in the dust!”

Diamond looks down sadly. “Yeah. You certainly showed me a thing or two. Losing to you was the most humiliating experience of my life.

“But my torture didn't end there. It had only just begun.

“My mother was FURIOUS at me for losing to you. She yelled at me for hours about how much money and resources she spent on trying to guarantee my election only to have all of it wasted. She even called me a miserable waste of resources!”

Sweetie Belle gasps, then exclaims, “That's terrible! This is your mother? She brought you into this world!”

“And nobody has made me more determined to leave it than her!” Diamond cries out emotionally. I visibly notice her shaking, so I can tell she's telling the truth.

Either that, or she's a better actress than I gave her credit for.

“Are you sure?” Scootaloo asks skeptically. “Remember, we're still in ‘The Truth Hour’. You have to be honest now.”

“I AM TELLING YOU THE TRUTH!” Diamond screeches. “Why won't you believe me? Do you honestly think I'd consider suicide just because there is a tiny little pea in my mattress?

“And just in case you're enough of an idiot to buy that story, let me assure you that there isn't such a thing in my mattress. I know. I have the maids check and clean it every day.

“Besides, that's not enough. Tiny little inconveniences are not enough. Truly facing the prospect of killing one's self is extremely scary, so the motivation to overcome that fear has to be even more extreme.

“I dare you to put a knife to your own throat with the serious intent to use it. Then you'll see how much it feels like a big deal.

“I don't know what's going to happen to me if I die! Will I move on, or will I just disappear?

“No matter what you might believe about the afterlife, are you certain enough to leap off a cliff without any hesitation?

“You just try it for yourself! It's fucking scary!”

I notice Silver Spoon wince because she is unaccustomed to hearing Diamond cuss like that. I surmise that it's against high social standing. For Diamond to use such words anyway serves to put more weight into the emotions that inspired her to say it.

Nevertheless, this does not feel real to me.

I know for a fact that, theoretically, if there are two people in front of me and one of them always tells the truth and another always tells a lie, they both have one thing in common. They both will always claim that they are telling the truth. 

Diamond's little “True Hour” ploy is just a mask. She has no serious intention to reveal any real weakness in herself.

She's not as good of a strategist as me, but I have to give her that much credit at least.

“So . . . there you have it,” Diamond informs me in a defeated, empty voice. “That's what happened to me. That's the whole truth. My mind turned to suicide shortly after my humiliating defeat, losing the Student Council President seat, but further compounded by my mother's abuses.”

She looks back up at me.

“So, when you offered me a position as Secretary of Treasury, I was surprised. I thought you'd gloat in your victory but, instead, you reached your hand down to help pick me up out of the metaphorical mud.

“You don't know this, but . . . you inadvertently saved my life on that day.

“I almost did it. I almost made the lethal cut on my wrist at the time, but then you made an unexpected move. I grew curious where this was going, so I accepted with a feeling of suspicious caution.

“Besides, you had a valid argument for me. As a member of the Rich family, I certainly know how to handle money. Maybe not as much as my parents, but certainly more than most others at Canterlot High.

“As usual, your persuasive skills ran circles around me, leaving my head spinning. I couldn't help but admire you for that, even if part of me still hated you at the same time.

“I figured that, if I couldn't beat you, I'd join you. Maybe, that way, I could at least learn from you. I wanted to figure out how you did it, and prayed to God that was not merely a matter of pure, innate talent. I wanted to see a strategy I could learn. Something I could adapt to. Something that could, in theory, become a part of me. I wanted to be better than I was before.

“In short, I was hunting for a reason to live.”

“And it worked, right?” Sweetie asks Diamond, but then grew confused. “But, in that case, why did I see you cutting yourself when I barged in on you?”

Diamond sighs as she looks down. “Because I eventually concluded that it really was mostly innate talent. I can't force myself to suddenly become a super genius. Nobody can. Cozy Glow simply has something I lack, and I realized it is something I could never obtain. If I continued to live, I realized I could only exist in her shadow at best.”

Best get used to it. The Shadow Queen casts a very long and deep shadow!

You're not the only one to drown in it.

Just the way I like it!

Silver Spoon frowns at her friend, then looks at me as she attempts to change the subject, “Well then, how about you, little Miss Perfect! What embarrassing secrets can you tell us that can rival what we've said tonight?”

“Me?” I check.

Silver Spoon nods. “It's only fair. Coming here and barging into her life was your idea. I’m not complaining, mind you, since I know that your intention is to prevent her from hurting herself, but you stuck your neck out to be here so fair is fair. Also, you were the one who interrupted our time spent on our cellphones so you owe us for this.”

I grin at her. “Well, for one thing, I'm cunning enough not to reveal anything too personal that might be used against me later on.”

“Come on, now! That's cheating!” Silver Spoon complains as she crosses her arms. “If you want to be part of our little club, you've got to spill the beans. To gather our trust, you have to share something with us that you wouldn't tell anybody else.”

I narrow my eyes at her. “Why should I?” Then I lift both hands as I prepare to make a proposal. “Okay. Since we're under ‘The True Hour’ here, will everyone swear to me now that whatever confessions we make between us will stay confidential?”

Sweetie widens her eyes, stunned at a sudden epiphany.

“You know what, girls?” Sweetie began. “It shouldn't have taken a super genius to have thought of that. Why hadn’t we sworn to protect our secrecy earlier? That should have been the first thing we did before we started pouring our hearts out.”

Silver Spoon shrugs as she says, “I assumed it was implied.”

“Oh, that is ironclad!” I sarcastically remark. “If this issue makes it to court, we'll just tell the judge that we assumed we'd keep each other's secrets.”

“What do you want from us?” Scootaloo asks me. “For us to sign a contract in blood?”

“Yes please,” I'm tempted to say, but instead I shake my head and say instead, “No. I just want the word of you all. If you say it during ‘The True Hour’, you have to mean it. This is as solid as a Pinkie Promise!”

“Ooo!” Scootaloo gasps. “None of you want to break a Pinkie Promise! Trust me! If you do, Pinkie will haunt you in ways you'd never think is possible! Breaking a Pinkie Promise is akin to evoking a curse upon yourself. All of a sudden she pops up inside potted plants, off the corner of your eye, or even inside mirrors!” Scootaloo shudders. “One time, while I was sleeping, I heard her haunting voice whisper to me out in the shadows, 'Foreveeeeeeverrrrrr!’

“For a very brief moment, I thought I saw her eyes gleam in the dark.

“Suffice to say, I could not sleep for the rest of that night!”

I notice how the girls are spooked enough not to speak again for at least ten seconds.

The silence is broken by Silver Spoon first. I guess she is the bravest at this moment.

“Well, like I said, I assumed the promise was implied, so I'm not bothered by making it more official.”

Silver Spoon lifts a hand. “I, Silver Spoon, hereby swear that all relevant information shared by anyone in this room during ‘The True Hour’ shall remain in confidence, pending further permission to spread it by the party who originally shared the information.”

“What are you, a dictionary?” Scootaloo accuses with a right eye squint at Silver Spoon, then declares. “Let me show you how simple it could have been.” She lifts a right hand up to the level of her shoulder, bending it at the elbow to do so. “I, Scootaloo, swear that I won't share any information told to me during ‘The True Hour.’” She lowers her hand. “See? Simple and effective.”

“I second that!” Sweetie pops in.

Silver shook her head. “You have to say it, otherwise you're not swearing anything.”

Sweetie huffs. “Fine!”

She lifts her right hand. “I swear I won't share any information we say during ‘The True Hour.’”

Without hesitation, Diamond lifted up her right hand as soon as Sweetie Belle finished her declaration. Diamond says one of her own, and I copy her a moment later.

“Alright then, the pact is made,” I say ominously as I lower my hand. “I know what I'm about to tell you may not seem to have as much weight compared to what you've all confessed to me, but rest assured that it's a big deal to me.

“For you see . . . there is something that I like in this world that I wouldn't normally admit to anyone.”

I'm hoping they take the bait, and they do in seconds. They press me for details since they could already smell that juicy steak of an embarrassing truth.

And it is the truth. It's just not an incriminating truth.

Just because I have to be honest, doesn't make me suddenly stupid.

I press my two pointing fingers at each other while wearing a nervous expression. For the most part, I'm not faking. I am concerned about their reaction because it reveals something about me that almost nobody would expect.

“I like . . .” I began, pause, take a deep breath, exhale, then resume, “. . . ninjas.”

Silver Spoon immediately narrows her eyes at me as she says, “That's your big secret?”

“Well of course you like ninjas!” Scootaloo exclaims. “Why wouldn't you? Ninjas are awesome!”

“True, but would anyone expect that from me?” I challenge the group while placing a finger to my lips as I give a cutesy blush.

“Um,” Diamond looks across the others as she says, “she does have a point. That isn't something I'd expect from little Miss High IQ.”

“How about an elaboration?” Sweetie probed. “Why do you like ninjas? And don't just wave it off as 'they are awesome'. Explain why they are awesome.”

Part of me gives a fond smile across the gathered group of girls as I realize that my declaration considerably lightened the mood of the moment. They are on the edge of their seats to learn something exciting rather than just depressing.

I really am a genius!

“I'm tempted to ask you all, 'What's not to love about ninjas'? But, since you asked me to elaborate, I suppose I'd have to say I like their mystique. They elevate skill to the point that it's almost magical, and I especially appreciate the fact that they use stealth and subterfuge to achieve their agendas. I see them as clever masterminds who pull the strings from the shadows.

“Unlike a common rogue, however, they also have a solid sense of honor. They truly believe in whatever cause they throw themselves into, and they execute their missions with skillful precision.

“To me, that's something I admire about them.

“They are, without a doubt, my second favorite type of class to play in MMO's. The first being a caster.” I add the second statement quickly because I could already see the question rising in several of my listeners, but I cut them off at the pass.

“Um,” Diamond shrugs, then starts clapping. The others shortly join her, then she adds, “Fair enough.”
> Chapter Twenty Eight: Slumber Party, Part 5, Breaking Point
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Miss Tiara,” an unexpected call came into the area from an intercom near the door to her room. “Your mother is home. She is requesting to see you in the study room.”

“What?!” Diamond exclaims while still sitting on her bed. Watching her, I notice a deep-seated look of horror and fear in her eyes.

Apparently I'm not the only one to notice, but I might have gleaned the fuller implications.

“Why are you so surprised?” Scootaloo asks Diamond with a questioning shrug. “Doesn't she live here? I don't see why it's so surprising to expect to see her in her own home.”

“Well her father does live here, but he frequently travels abroad,” Sweetie Belle informs us. “In all this time that I have stayed here, I've only seen him once. Even then, that was a video conference call.” Sweetie looks at Diamond. “As for her mother-”

“My mother is a professional brown-noser,” Diamond says with irritation as she crosses her arms in a huff. “And yet, at the same time, she uses every opportunity she can get to remind other people how 'rich' and 'important' we are. It's as if she's desperate to get everyone in high society to accept her.”

“There is a pretty common streak of arrogance among our social class,” Silver agrees. “However, Spoiled seems different. Most members of the upper class seem more comfortable with their station enough that they don't feel like they have to brag about it all the time. Instead, they just keep their noses in the air and do whatever they feel like doing. Fancy Pants is a good example of that.

“Your mother, however, comes off as secretly scared of rejection.

“Personally, I think it's because she wasn't nearly as wealthy before she married your father, or so I've been told. Neither you nor I were born back then.”

“Miss Tiara? Are you there?” the gentleman on the intercom asks when there seems to be an unusually long pause.

Diamond looks down as she sighs in annoyance, but I can tell that she's using that reaction to mask her terror. Being the keen observer I am for subtle body language, I notice how she also wrings her hands nervously.

Just recently Diamond told me that losing to me during the Student Council election was a great source of frustration for her, but I now calculate an eighty-one percent chance that it's her mother that is really pushing Diamond's sanity over the brink.

I wish I could take vicious pleasure in that fact, but I'm surprised to feel emptiness and sympathy instead. The most likely reason for that is this situation feels a little too familiar.

How ironic. I came here to her home in order to observe her for weaknesses so I could use them against her later. It never occurred to me that she might become too relatable in the process.

But whatever! I still don't care!

	Fuck you, Little Miss Prissy! I'm still going to destroy you someday! I just need to build you back up in the meantime so you will eventually really feel me twisting the knife in your back!

“Everyone, stay here,” Diamond commands us as she rises from her bed then makes her way to the exit of her room. “I'll deal with her. It's important that she sees none of you.” She pauses when she touches the doorknob. While still holding it, she looks back at me. “Especially you. Mother never forgave you for stealing my seat as Council President.”

I narrow my eyes at her slightly.

“I didn't steal anything!” I explain, even though I privately think about all the information I had my minions dig up then reveal to the school to secretly dirty her reputation during the election. “I won that election fair and square!” Boy, I'm a great liar! “The students chose me because I was better at convincing them. That's all.”

“And you've done a great job at it since, too,” Diamond tells me in an admiring tone. “To you, it isn't just a position for status and ego. You actually do care for the students. You worked very hard to make the school a better place, and you really listen to the people you lead. You're a great leader, Cozy Glow. I will vote for you in the next election.” She faces the door and looks down with regret. “But my mother will probably never see it that way. Some people are just too stuck up to see reason.”

Diamond takes a deep breath, releases it, then gazes forward at her door with a fragile look of resolve in her eyes.

“Now, if you'll all excuse me.”

Diamond pulls open the door, leaves the room, then shuts the door behind her.

Leaving the rest of us to hang around in awkward silence for about half a minute.

That silence is finally broken by Scootaloo, who easily seems like the boldest one among our group.

“Is anyone else here feeling . . . uncomfortable?” Scootaloo asks while rubbing her right arm which obviously verifies her current emotional state.

“What do you think, Silver Spoon?” Sweetie Belle probes the rich girl with a slight edge of hope in her voice. “You've known Diamond Tiara and her mother the longest. Should we be concerned right now? Do you think her mother is the real reason she wants to kill herself?”

For ten seconds it does not seem like Silver is going to say anything, but then she announces as she focuses on the exit door, “I really doubt that these actions are based off of just one thing in her life. She probably contemplated and attempted suicide for all sorts of reasons which built and stacked on top of each other over time.”

Silver looks down to the corner with a look that has a hint of pain in it.

“Diamond doesn't like to talk about her mother too much. It took me years to finally notice that pattern. I used to think Spoiled was normal but, as I got older, I noticed how she was different from the other adults around me.”

While Silver's face remains directed cornerwise down, her eyes shift to look back at the exit door sharply.

“While hidden within a hedge maze near one of my homes, I overheard her mother yelling at her for small social slights.

“Whenever my parents disapprove of any of my behavior, they just calmly tell me that it is improper. In my life, it's as if my family considers it taboo to reveal any emotion whatsoever, but Diamond . . .

“I was still just a little kid at the time, and so was Diamond.

“For the very first time in my life, I found myself grateful that I have family members that don't show any emotion at all as opposed to the explosive roar that Spoiled gave to my friend.”

Silver looks down with a sigh.

“Only now is it occurring to me how much all those years of earlier abuse was destroying her from the inside. After all of that, it must have seemed as if any change had a strong possibility of being an improvement, and death is the ultimate change in life.”

Returning to the chair again beside the bed, Sweetie Belle presses her crossed arms into her belly. She doubles over a bit while looking very worried, then she asks, “Do you think she's going to yell at her right now for inviting us into her mansion?”

Silver Spoon sighs, looking reluctant to admit the truth, but she eventually says, “That is a very distinct possibility. Everything I have ever known about the woman suggests she has no tolerance for her daughter hanging out with 'low-lifes', as she calls you.”

“That's so mean of her!” Sweetie complains.

“It makes me angry!” Scootaloo growls as she smacks her left fist into her right open palm. “Now I just want to rush right up to her and punch her in her stupid little face!”

“That's Assault and Battery,” Silver warns Scootaloo seriously. “Trust me, Spoiled would have no qualms pressing charges against you to the fullest extent of the law, and there are plenty of cameras in this household to help her case against you.

“Normally she considers the lot of you beneath her notice, but if that changes, it won't be the good kind of attention. Not unless you suddenly become, and remain, far more wealthy than she is.

“Hypothetically, if that ever happens, then prepare to get your ass kissed over and over again instead.”

“Cameras . . . that's a good idea,” I declare as I peer sharply at the exit. “That's what we need right now. We should record proof that Spoiled is abusing her daughter. Armed with that evidence, Child Protective Services would leap at the opportunity to come to her defense by getting Diamond away from this monster!” I narrow my eyes at the exit. “I need to make sure that Diamond gets a restraining order against her own mother.”

I bite the tip of my thumb for a moment as even more vicious ideas swim through my head.

“It wouldn't stop there, either!” I realize aloud. “Spoiled Rich is President of the School Board! I bet that status would be difficult to maintain if everyone knew that Spoiled abuses her own child.

“Just look how fast everyone turned their backs on Sunny when similar evidence came up against her. Now I know for a fact that Sunny is innocent of her crimes in my heart, but this bitch would totally deserve everything she gets!”

“Filthy Rich might even divorce her if he found out that she has been abusing his daughter all along,” Sweetie Belle adds.

“What if he already knows and doesn't care?” Scootaloo checks with worry. “Worse, what if he's part of the problem?”

Sweetie Belle shook her head and said, “Nah-aw. I don't think so. Everything I have ever seen or heard about him says he's not that bad of a guy, although he can be a little greedy and money-grubbing at times.

“The worst thing about him is the fact he's too busy to hang around his daughter that much. I think that's also why he's so unaware of how his wife treats his daughter, but if that changes . . .” Sweetie Belle left that idea hanging on purpose.

“Then it's totally Divorce Town for Little Miss Bitchy!” Scootaloo concludes with evil satisfaction as she smacks her left fist into her right open palm again.

I grin at Scootaloo, secretly amused by how she put that.

“Better still, Diamond would be taken away from her mother,” Sweetie Belle reminds. “If Diamond gets away from the most destructive influence in her life, she might actually recover . . . eventually. It's hard to heal from an injury if it keeps getting damaged, however.”

“That all sounds well and good, but how exactly are we going to gain this video evidence?” Silver Spoon challenges us.

“Leave that to me,” I tell them as I bend down, scoop up my purse, then carry it to Diamond's computer workstation. From there, I turn on her machine. “Diamond Tiara gave me her network password earlier. I might be able to use it to get inside their system.”

At first Silver Spoon looks intrigued, but then doubt crosses her mind.

“Wait a second. She typed it up on your cellphone herself. You shouldn't know the password,” Silver corrects me. “Besides, even if you did have the password, it does not lead to her family's administrative account. You only got the guest password.”

“I've got a few tricks up my sleeve,” I admit, although I'm a bit loathe to reveal that. Revealing even that much is dangerous information because it tips them off that I could be a hacker, but I have to do this. This is important. This mission is one of the key cornerstones of my entire life's ambition.

“It's true that I only got the password to their guest account,” I agree. “That's not good enough to get access to their internal security system such as their cameras, for example.”

I pause for a moment as I observe I am blocked by another password on Diamond's computer. One of them leads to Diamond's own account, but I notice that another leads to Silver Spoon’s.

“Silver, come here,” I instruct her. “Type in your password and log into your own account on this computer. While you do that,” I reach for my cellphone and start fiddling with it, “I'll bring up another program on my phone.”

Now very intrigued, Silver Spoon approaches the computer, bends down, then types in the password. While she does that, she asks me, “What exactly are you up to? My account on this computer has just as many locks on it as the guest account on their Wi-Fi.”

“I don't actually need this computer per se,” I inform her. “It's just useful to me so I can upload the program I have on my cellphone, unless you all want to crowd around my tiny screen.”

“What are you getting at?” Scootaloo asks curiously behind me.

“Do you all remember how I uploaded a video of my mother recording me near the time I first learned to play the violin?”

“Yeah,” Sweetie confirms, then adds, “By the way, I still can't believe you only had two weeks of practice before that recording! You really are amazing!”

“Well . . . I'm basically going to do the same thing with this computer,” I tell them. “I will display and record the video footage that I will gather on this little puppy here.” I pull out of my purse something else I was reluctant to reveal, a tiny spherical object.

“What's that?” Scootaloo asks.

“A gift from my mother. I call it, ‘Eye in the Sky.'”

Using my cellphone, I activate the device. The sphere splits apart a bit which reveals a camera. The sphere also starts to float off my hand.

“Cool!” Scootaloo exclaims when she witnesses it. “What is it?”

“A drone,” I answer, “Unlike other drones, however, this one is not using spinning propellers to cause it to hover. Instead, it is using advanced magnetic technology. That is why this drone, unlike many others, is silent. Plus, with its tiny size, which is able to fit in the palm of my hand, it can be difficult to spot, too.”

“Oh man! You are so lucky to be adopted by Twilight Sparkle!” Sweetie says happily. “That gives you access to technology decades ahead of the rest of the world.”

“Dude! She should totally sell this stuff!” Scootaloo suggests enthusiastically. “The hover technology on this thing alone would be worth a fortune!”

“That's the plan,” I say as I reach down to open a window on the internet of Silver Spoon's guest account within Diamond’s computer. From there I log into my account which has a satellite link to my drone. After that, I bring up a video screen that displays everything the drone is seeing right now.

“There. Now you can all see what's on my cellphone,” I announce as I stand up straight. “Silver Spoon, quietly open the door.”

She does so.

I navigate my hover drone quietly out of the room. They all see what it sees on Diamond's computer.

“My mother may be the inventor, but I know how to market her products,” I tell them as I continue to pilot the drone using my cellphone. “I've already applied and established a patent on some of her inventions. Others are pending. When those are secure, I'll get to work putting her stuff out in the market.”

“You'll need an investor to help get you started,” Silver Spoon realizes, then eagerly announces, “I want in! Something this good could easily return ten times my initial investment.”

“Significantly more than ten times, according to my calculated projections,” I correct Silver. “You haven't seen the kinds of stuff my mother has come up with. Some of it is unlike anything in the world right now. It borders on magical.”

In fact, some of it is magical.

“Well then, I definitely want in!” Silver even more firmly declares. “You need our money to get these ideas off the ground, and you have something that surely would be a safe bet.”

“Let's discuss this later,” I tell her. “Rest assured that I am quite interested in your investment, but right now I'm trying to focus on saving your friend.”

“If you pull this off,” Silver begins as she looks at the computer screen which shows the drone continuing to fly through the hallways of the mansion, “I'll owe you a lot of favors for this act alone.”

“Me too!” Sweetie Belle agrees.

“Me three!” Scootaloo chimes in angrily. “For years I have despised Diamond because she was a bully, and I fuckin’ hate bullies, but I'm starting to realize who the real culprit might have been all along.”

That's a good point! What if it turns out that everything that I once despised about Little Miss Prissy was actually her mother's fault all along?

I have no trouble holding grudges. If it turns out that this woman also deserves to be on my enemies list, I will oblige.

That does leave my feelings about Diamond a little more complex, though.

I've got to admit, some things I've already learned about her tonight have given me a lot to think about. More and more, I can't help shake the feeling that Diamond is a little too relatable to me.

Eerily so.

“Okay, so we got video footage here,” Silver remarks. “That's not going to mean much in court without audio to back it up.”

“It's got audio when I enable it,” I tell them. “At least, this model does. Years ago, it used to lack this feature.”

In fact, this is the very drone I used to spy on Diamond Tiara on the playground five years ago when she was trying to defend her Student Council President seat but ultimately lost it to Pip. Back then, however, it did not have an audio microphone. Mother has been tinkering and upgrading the thing over the years.

Better still, it is a directional microphone. It is the kind that can pick up audio from a great distance away within a narrow field, but there is one catch to it. This drone can only pick up sound that the microphone is directly aiming at. It's deaf to everything else unless I adjust it to a cone setting but that, in turn, reduces its range.

That's going to make recording Diamond and her mother's conversation a little more tricky on my part because I can only aim the microphone at one of them at a time unless they are directly standing next to each other. I really doubt that will happen, so I'll need to be quick on my fingers to aim the microphone at whomever I think will be talking.

I request Silver's help to navigate my way to the study room. She happily obliges.

As she does so, I feel grateful that I have this resource, which prevents aimless wandering. Even now, I'm galled by the possibility I might be missing important bits to their conversation.

Not only that, but I have to hide the drone from other servants who pass in the hallways. I do this by shifting the drone to the upper corner of the ceiling and wait for them to pass. I aim my camera at each one as I watch them go around the corner, then aim the camera where I plan to go to make sure the coast is still clear. If it is, I advance the drone.

When my drone arrives at the destination, I am confronted by a new problem, a closed door.

Honestly, I had anticipated this, but I don't have much of a plan around this.

I attempt to spy the camera of my drone through the keyhole, but ultimately come up with nothing useful. Besides, the zoom mic won't pick up anything useful like that either.

I need a way to get through.

I attempt a bit of a bold plan by having the drone bump into the door three times which simulates a knock on the door.

“I'm here!” Diamond announces from within the room.

“Wait! That was Diamond!” Sweetie realizes as she squeezes my left shoulder. “We can hear them in there?”

“At short range, this thing can hear in a broad cone,” I tell the others. “But afar, it can only hear in a narrow beam.”

“If we can hear Diamond in there, then where is her mother's voice?” Silver wonders.

We stand in perplexed silence for three seconds, then I widen my eyes.

“She's not there yet!” I realize aloud.

I quickly shift the camera to scan both directions of the hallway. It's still clear for the moment, but I realize that is going to change soon.

I grin.

This is quite fortuitous. Not only does this mean I haven't missed any of the conversation yet, but it also means Spoiled will come and open the door for me.

I zoom the drone at the other end of the hallway towards the upper corner of the ceiling. From there I silently keep looking back and forth between both ends of the hallway.

“I get it!” Scootaloo says brightly. “If Spoiled isn't in the study room yet, then she will arrive shortly. My guess is you're going to wait for her to open the door for you then quickly zoom in before it shuts!”

I smile deviously as I say, “Now you're thinking like a strategist! Keep it up, Scootaloo, and it may improve your life.”

“Nah.” Scootaloo folds both of her hands behind her neck. “Strategy like this is for eggheads like you.

“Don't get me wrong, I have nothing against you guys. You especially. I think both you and your mother are really cool in an egghead sort of way, but there is no way I'm deluded enough to believe that I'll ever catch up to you guys.”

“That's a wise strategy,” I agree. “Don't reach for the impossible, but also don't give up reaching at all,” I encourage her while also being a touch condescending. “Just do the best you can. You'll achieve far more with effort rather than a lack of it.”

“She's got a point, Scootaloo,” Sweetie agrees. “Besides, you came up with some pretty brilliant ideas once in a while.”

“Not as often as you,” Scootaloo counters. “You're the brains and I'm the brawn. That's the deal.”

I notice, through the reflection of the computer monitor, that Sweetie Belle shrugs lightly behind me.

“I suppose that arrangement has worked out for us for the most part, so far,” Sweetie Belle admits before going on to say, “Applebloom has way more stamina than I do as well. You and her both remind me of Rainbow Dash and Apple Jack. Both of you are good at physical activities. Meanwhile I can't keep that up if I tried on that level, so I have to do something to keep up in my own way.

“You know, the more I think about it, the more I realize that I actually relate to Twilight more than my own sister Rarity, even though I really look up to her.

“My sister's passion for fashion has kind of rubbed off on me, but only insofar as being more self-conscious about what I'm wearing. Making the outfits, however, well . . . I'm not totally inept at it, but I can't do much more than basic crochet, even though my sister claims that crochet is, 'Knitting's poorer cousin', but I still love it! I used to be pretty bad at it too, if you recall, but in time I got pretty decent at-”

“Will you please be quiet!?” Silver Spoon complains to Sweetie Belle.

“Why? It's not as if anyone near the drone can hear us,” Sweetie points out.

“Yes, but you're being distracting,” Silver counters. “When Spoiled Rich comes, we may have only one shot at-”

“Ooo! There she is!” Scootaloo frantically and literally points out.

“I see her,” I acknowledge as I narrow my eyes in focused concentration on Spoiled’s approach.

I feel sharp tension in the room. My own heart starts beating fast as well. The risky moment is about to approach, and it might lead to important results whether I succeed or fail.

I realize, as I have my camera focused on Spoiled, that I haven't seen her often before. That feels like a major oversight on my part.

Spoiled is wearing a loose, sleeveless, purple blouse on her upper torso. For leggings, she is wearing form-hugging khaki pants. She is heavily decked in jewelry from necklaces, rings on each finger, earrings, diamond pins in her hair, diamond-encrusted wristwatch, and a purple jewel on her belt buckle.

In short, she is wearing anything it takes to remind others that she is rich and “important”.

Supporting that image, she is also extremely snooty to the point of being snide about it. She walks with her nose so far into the air that I'm surprised she didn't slam into the door due to her limited field of perception.

Furthermore, it actually looks like she used plastic surgery to make her nose even more pointy and upraised, kind of like a rhinoceros.

I shake my head in disbelief about this. It's as if this woman is trying to emulate a cartoon antagonist. Someone who is so obviously annoying and wicked that little kids would easily be able to tell.

Oddly, part of me feels a bit afraid of what I'm discovering. What if it turns out that this woman is the true embodiment of everything I once hated about her daughter Diamond?

I spent a good portion of my life loathing Diamond and preparing for my revenge. It's scary to think that I've been aiming at the wrong target all along. If so, so much of my life would suddenly lose its definition.

I didn't want to believe it, no matter how strong the evidence was. Hating Diamond Tiara is simply part of who I am. That should be my other cutie mark. Diamond's face in a circle and crossed out. Just call me the “Diamond Tiara Buster”.

“Come ooooooon!” Sweetie Belle says with a lot of tension in her voice. One of her hands continues to squeeze my shoulder hard.

I ignore it because I know my moment is about to come. I focus very hard while doing some quick mental calculations. I know what the maximum speed and acceleration of the drone is. I estimate that the other end of the hallway is fifteen feet across.

This is going to be close, but I can make it! I just have to gun it at the right moment.

The door is not locked, so Spoiled simply touches and turns the doorknob. I have my drone book it the moment she touches the doorknob. I quickly see the door seem to zoom up to the camera when the camera flies off to it. The crack at the upper end of the door barely opens for me as I have my drone fly right over Spoiled's hair.

I have the drone spin around to face Spoiled while the drone continues to float off backwards, carried by its own momentum.

Via the camera, we see Spoiled briefly pat her hair because she felt something whoosh by it. She pauses at the doorway as she wonders what caused it. We even see her lean back and check both ends of the hallway.

After a moment she shrugs, probably thinking it has something to do with the sudden change of air pressure when she opened the door combined with the air conditioning in the mansion. The change in air temperature from one room to another might have been the cause of the whoosh, in her likely estimation.

“YOU DID IT! YOU DID IT!” Sweetie Belle cries excitedly behind me. She literally hops up and down in excitement while patting my shoulders several times.

“Way to go!” Scootaloo cheers. “That was awesome!”

“Did Diamond notice?” Silver Spoon asks cautiously.

Realizing Silver Spoon has a good point, I turn the camera around in search of Diamond Tiara. I eventually locate her sitting across the room. A large number of bookshelves are behind her. She is sitting at the base of them while looking up at my drone with wide, startled eyes.

Seeing her notice my drone causes me a brief moment of panic, but then I remind myself that Diamond is the least threatening of the two.

“She did notice us?” Scootaloo gasps.

“Oh no!” Sweetie cries out fearfully.

“Calm down you two!” Silver commands. “Diamond is not the problem here. As long as she does not give away our position, we're good.”

“But Diamond doesn't know we sent the drone!” Sweetie points out fearfully.

“Relax,” Silver instructs. “Diamond is no dummy.”

Scootaloo, Sweetie Belle, and I all pass Silver a dry look simultaneously, each of us thinking about her recent attempt at suicide.

Silver waves us off. “Okay, point taken, but I also think she has other things on her mind right now. Besides, she knows who you live with.” Silver nods to me. “It should be enough for her to put two and two together.”

“Then Diamond is the only one in the room who knows she's being observed,” Scootaloo figures. “Is that going to change our plans?”

“Not much,” I respond, though I am a bit irked by this development. Diamond being aware of the observation might indeed modify her behavior.

Although, on second thought, this could turn to my advantage.

“Are you recording this?” Silver checks with me.

“I have ever since I spotted Spoiled coming down the hallway,” I answer.

“Just in case,” Silver leaves to retrieve her own phone off of Diamond's bed. With it, she returns and aims the outside of her phone towards the computer screen. I glance at her phone for a quick second. I notice that she is recording the image on Diamond's computer screen.

Good. That will give me a backup.

Mere seconds after that happens, Scootaloo and Sweetie decide that is a good idea. They leave to retrieve their own phones. Very soon all four of us are recording this conversation.

I have the camera linger on Diamond for a while until she seems to forcefully pull her gaze away from my drone. There is a tight look to her lips.

I inwardly sigh in a bit of relief. It appears that Silver Spoon did not misjudge her “friend”. It looks like Diamond will protect our secret . . . for now.

I redirect the camera to aim at Spoiled Rich.

She is opening a glass cabinet directly across from her daughter. Within it, there are many bottles full of liquor. She pours herself a cup in a bell-shaped glass on a stem. Her fingers clutch it from the bottom end after the cup is about eighty percent full. She lifts the glass up to her lips and sips the liquor.

Meanwhile nobody says anything. I double-check by aiming the camera, and therefore also the microphone, back and forth between Diamond and her mother. Neither is saying anything, but I calculate a seventy-eight percent chance that Spoiled will be the first to speak between them. I think that is their proper protocol.

Spoiled actually finishes her cup and she still doesn't say anything. I suspect she's waiting to build tension on purpose, and meanwhile might be preparing a speech in her head.

At the other end of the room, Diamond is waiting patiently but obviously very nervously. She keeps sparing very quick glances at my drone but she never has her attention linger on it.

For a moment I tried to imagine how I would feel in this same situation. It's hard to judge since I did not grow up with Spoiled like Diamond has, but my envy for Diamond's life is quickly draining as I behold this scary woman.

Spoiled pours herself another glass of some brownish liquor. She finally turns around to regard her daughter but still does not say anything. She just keeps giving Diamond the stink eye but otherwise holds her tongue, for now.

I have the drone look at and even zoom up to Diamond's face.

“What are you doing?” Scootaloo asks me nervously.

“Oh!” Sweetie Belle moans sadly. “Look at her face! Diamond is sweating nervously.”

“Do you blame her? I think I would be too with that woman,” Scootaloo said back. “Unless I pin her to the floor and keep smacking her back and forth.”

“Is she always like this?” Sweetie Belle asks aloud, probably at Silver.

Both Silver and I look back at Sweetie Belle. Silver is the first to ask, “Who are you talking to? Me?”

In response, Sweetie nods at Silver.

Silver looks back at the computer screen. I can see the glare of the computer screen reflect off Silver Spoon’s glasses.

“I never got that close with Spoiled Rich,” Silver Spoon admits while she twirls a finger in her white hair that hangs off her right shoulder. “Not that I complained about that. Everything I did learn about her told me to keep my distance from her. The few times I did spot her looking at me, I could just feel her harsh judgment over me. Sometimes I couldn't even figure out what I did wrong, making it feel like earning her ire was simply unavoidable.

“I could tell she had to bite her tongue on several occasions to avoid yelling at me. She looked like she had to remind herself that I was not her kid, and she was glad for that. Little did she realize that I felt the same way.

“If she ever complained to anyone about me, she only did it to my parents. She spoke over me as if I wasn't in the room, like I was beneath her notice.

“One time, while she was doing that right in front of me, I felt Diamond squeeze my right hand.

“I'll never forget it.

“I looked at her. She gazed back at me with a look of embarrassment and apology. I figured that she must have known how I felt because she suffered it all the time.”

“Man!” Scootaloo says while shaking her head and looking back at the computer screen. “The more I learn about her, the more I want to kick the shit out of her!”

“So . . . here we are again,” Spoiled Rich finally began. I quickly aim the drone at her so the mic can pick her up better. “How many times is it going to be, Diamond Tiara? How many times must I remind you to never hang out with confused, insignificant low-lifes?”

“What?!” Scootaloo exclaims in fury. “Why I oughtta-”

“Just shut up and listen!” Silver interrupts. “Focus on the scene. Remember, our phones are recording us too, except for Cozy's. Don't speak over Spoiled.”

Scootaloo bites her lips. She does look like she is going to cooperate, but she is trembling with rage.

“I just-” Diamond began for a moment, although faintly since my drone isn't aimed at her. I almost change that but her mother interrupts.

“DID I give you permission to speak?!” Spoiled barks harshly.

I aim my camera at Diamond as she meekly says, “No, mother.” I see (and record) her cringing painfully as if she was physically struck.

I aim the camera back at Spoiled.

“Know your place, you pathetic little urchin,” Spoiled commands.

I hear Sweetie start to whimper sadly behind me.

Spoiled Rich looks at and swirls her glass. She pauses again for ten seconds in silence, then shakes her head as she says, “I can't believe how much I have to put up with you. My daughter, of all people, hanging out with losers and wretches. How you make me sick!”

She flashes a focused, angry stare at her daughter.

“How many times are we going to have this conversation, Diamond Tiara? How many times will it take before I can get through to you? We don't associate with their kind. It is not how we move up in the world.

“Don't forget that, Diamond Tiara.”

In the next instant, all four of us jump, startled, when we see Spoiled chuck her glass across the room. I do my best to follow it, but I'm about a second and a half too late.

At the other end of the room, Diamond is cringing tightly. The glass apparently shattered near her position, but it did not strike Diamond directly. At most, some of the liquor splashed on Diamond's dress.

“EVER!” Spoiled Rich roars at her daughter so loudly that the camera easily picks that up despite not aiming directly at her.

Gods, even I am shaking!

This feels way too familiar, but I don't know why.

Another long pause of silence passes in the study room, broken first by Diamond.

“Permission to speak, mother?” Diamond requests meekly.

I aim the camera at Spoiled.

“Permission denied!” Spoiled says harshly. “I have no interest in whatever pathetic excuse you have for yourself. You're giving me a headache, Diamond Tiara! You're giving me wrinkles and making me old.”

Spoiled reaches up and massages her temples on her head by pressing her pointer fingers on each side and rubbing them in a circle.

“You're driving me to an early grave, you ungrateful little wench!” Spoiled goes on. “Do you know how many times I had to repair our family's damaged reputation because of you? Do you want to know how many times I had to excuse your sorry behavior? Every single thing you DO,” she slams the counter behind her, “affects our reputation. The others look at me with disgust because they know I can't even reign in my own daughter’s behavior. If I can't do that, then why should they trust our family business either?

“Everything you do, or don't do, affects us, Diamond! Do you even care that the others look down upon us for your bad behavior? Are you actually TRYING to send us to the poor house?”

I almost steer the camera back at Diamond until I witness her mother quickly walk across the room. I aim the camera back at her as she crosses the room. She stands in front of her tightly cringing daughter then reaches a hand down to box Diamond Tiara's ears. Diamond yelps, “Ow-ow-OW!” as her mother pulls her up by the ears painfully.

“I can't stand the sight of you!” Spoiled yells. “Just look at you! Sleeping in the company of the enemy! You do know that is Cozy Glow up there? Do you realize how much money she cost our family during your failed election? Do you know how much face she cost us in the eyes of our peers?”

“YOU'RE HURTING ME!” Diamond wails painfully.

“GOOD!” Spoiled screams back. “That is what you GET for being a pathetic loser!

“I have half a mind to disown you for good, Diamond Tiara!”

Diamond flashes her mother a pained but also angry look.

“Change my mind, Diamond Tiara!” Spoiled dares as she yanks her daughter back and forth by her boxed ears.

I am shaking harder, but I manage to zoom the camera up closer to this abuse. I am really starting to lose it when I notice blood start to drip down the hand that is boxing Diamond Tiara's ear very hard.

“That's IT!” Scootaloo cries out. “I can't stand this any longer! I have to go rescue her!”

“NO! Stay here!” Silver says as she reaches to grasp Scootaloo's left arm as the angry girl is about to pull away and leave.

“What are you doing?! Let go of me!” Scootaloo demands.

“You don't understand, mother!” Diamond wails desperately. “I need them! They saved my life! They are my friends!”

In response, Spoiled Rich slaps her daughter so hard that Diamond Tiara crashes to the floor in a heap. She might have even lost consciousness for a brief moment.

My mind breaks.

Instantly I feel so much pressure in my skull that everything else gets muffled except for an intense ringing in my ear. My vision starts to blackout. I grow dizzy. I don't feel my phone in my hands anymore. It likely dropped.

I wave unsteadily as I start to fall backwards in super slow motion.

I kind of hear the startled scream of some of the other girls, most notably Sweetie Belle, as I start to fall backwards.

But this scene gets wiped away and replaced with, of all things, a flash of red and blue intermittent lights on my face.

Police lights.

I am drowning in darkness. I feel its pressure all around me. From within that darkness I hear angry screams and shouts from those who sound vaguely familiar but also unlike anyone I ever heard before. Whoever they are, they clearly really hate each other.

“I'm ready to get down now,” a very young sounding version of me cries out in the darkness. She sounds approximately nine years old. Maybe younger. “Please let me down! I'll be a good girl! I promise! I won't be scared anymore. Just please . . . somebody help me!”

The angry shouts rise in the darkness again. They swirl around me in a cacophony. The words themselves are unintelligible, but the emotion is very clear!

HATE! Pure, unbridled, passionate loathing! It swirls around me. It starts to penetrate within me, becoming a part of me.

“Let me down! Let me down! Let me down! Let me down!” the young voice repeats in my mind over and over again.

I shrivel in this darkness. Within it, I feel like a little kid again. Lost. Crushed. Feeling unwanted and unloved.

And . . . something else. Something menacing. Something . . .

. . . EVIL!

Light spills onto my face, momentarily blinding me. The light is coming from a door that just opened, and a figure is standing there. It is a tall male figure of some kind. He's leaning against the door frame. He's apparently too drunk to stand up straight at that moment.

As if to confirm that theory, a bottle falls from his hands and spills onto the floor.

I don't know who this is, and yet this monster feels very familiar to me.

Whoever he is, I know he is here to hurt me. Hurt me in ways that also really confuse me.

He stumbles into the dark room I am in. I'm trying to hide in the shadows, but he's coming right for me.

As he moves away from the light beyond the door, his menacing shadow stretches across the floor towards me. Shadowy, claw-like hands reach towards my frightened and vulnerable self.

But, along the way towards me, the shadow morphs and twists, gaining a life of its own. It even crawls up from the floor, becoming a 3D shape in its own right, although it continues to be as black as shadow.

The sole exception to this is menacing eyes that open in that inky black cloud. They glow in the dark! They see in the dark! They pierce me, gazing menacingly into and through my very soul.

The eyes almost look like sideways slits, much like a reptile. The irises themselves are red which stands out well against a sickly green glowing background. Two dark purple wisps of smoke follow after the eyes like a pair of ribbons floating in water.

The black cloud hovers inches in front of my face as I cringe back as much as my body will allow me. I witness, in horror, as a gaping maw opens up in that black cloud. It appears to salivate. Saliva drips down two long fangs.

“Gooooood! I can taste your fear! Your hatred! Your loathing! It is . . . delicious!” the menacing creature before me says as he almost purrs in pleasure. The voice spoke as if from a whisper, and it sounded like multiple voices speaking in complete unison.

“Who . . . who are you?” I ask in a very young sounding, meek voice.

“Oh, you'll know that very well.” He gives a dark snicker. “In due time. For now, just know that I am your KING! Your master!”

Black crystal suddenly shoots out of the ground and slams into my chest, knocking the wind out of me. I can feel myself hyperventilate, or at least I am trying, but air refuses to squeeze in my crushed stomach.

“HATE me!” the dark entity commanded. “Fear me. Love me. Serve me. Make yourself more mine every . . . single . . . DAY!”

I want to ask this entity what he wants from me, but I can't speak. I can't breathe!

A black wispy tendril drifts up and brushes lightly across my throat. I am deathly afraid he's about to slice it open. I sense the temptation, but he restrains it.

“Open your mouth!” the inky dark demon commands me.

For a brief moment I shut my mouth even tighter, but then I realize I feel too afraid of him to refuse to cooperate. If I don't obey, he might hurt me even more!

So, reluctantly, I slowly open my mouth, eventually doing so widely.

“Yeeeeeeeeesssssss! That's it! Good! What a good little sssslave you are!

“Now,” a reddish horn grew above his floating, glowing eyes in the dark. “be sure to swallow it all!”

Then, without warning, he quickly stabs his horn into my mouth.

I close my eyes and scream! My scream echoes in the dark.
> Chapter Twenty Nine: Slumber Party, Part 6, Disowned
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

I wake up with a gasp!

The shot of insulin in my system helps propel me back to consciousness, but I don't realize that until a moment later.

I examine my new surroundings only to discover that I am in Diamond Tiara's room. I am gazing up at her ceiling. Apparently I am on the floor, looking up.

Probing my surroundings further, I notice that the only ones in the mansion who are probably not in this room right now are the other servants of the mansion. Other than that, everyone else is here. Scootaloo, Sweetie Belle, Silver Spoon, Diamond Tiara, and Spoiled Rich. The latter is glaring down at me hatefully, but there is a hint of concern on her face as well.

I also finally notice that my body is quaking uncontrollably, but it's starting to calm down.

Oh great! Another seizure attack.

Thanks, Universe! Thanks for taking another opportunity to spit on my face and remind me how pathetic I am! Do you want to kick me too? Go ahead! I'm wide open! Take your best shot!

“Cozy Glow, wake up!” Sweetie Belle calls to me frantically. Her voice does sound a bit distorted for a moment, but it clears quickly. Sound starts to return to normal.

I see tears in Sweetie Belle's eyes. I hear the strain in her voice. She looks at me with desperate concern.

She reaches forward to tap me multiple times on my face.

“Hey! Wake up! Wake up, wake up, wake up, sleepyhead!” She holds four fingers up in front of my face and asks me, “How many fingers am I holding up?”

“Technically, none,” I answer. “Since I'm lying on my back and you're above me, you're holding your fingers sideways, not up. Also, it’s a little hard to tell since you're holding them so close to my face.”

“Oh good!” Sweetie Belle breathes a sigh of relief as she reaches to squeeze one of my hands. I wonder if it's to comfort me or herself.

Maybe both.

“So . . . she's finally awake?” I hear Spoiled ask the group in irritation. “I don't have to call an ambulance after all?”

“You mean you never did?!” Scootaloo asks in astonishment. “Do you realize she could have died in your mansion, you heartless witch?!”

“Hey!” Spoiled snaps at Scootaloo. “Watch your tone with me, missy! Don't forget, you are a guest in my house! That is an oversight which I will soon correct.”

Spoiled looks over at me disdainfully, then asks, “She is not going to throw up all over my expensive, imported rug, is she? If she does, I demand restitution.”

“Are you kidding me?!” Scootaloo asks Spoiled incredulously. “That is what you are worried about right now?”

“But of course, you stupid little child!” came Spoiled’s snide remark. “The carpet in this room alone cost me over four thousand bits! That's probably more money than you'll ever make in your entire miserable lifetime, you pathetic twerp!”

“Why you-!” Scootaloo begins with a roar but Diamond Tiara clasps Scootaloo's shoulder. Looking back up at her, Scootaloo notices Diamond shake her head no. Diamond silently advises Scootaloo to calm back down.

Scootaloo gets back on her knees, albeit reluctantly.

Diamond looks at her mother.

“Mother, did you notify their parents that you are kicking them out?”

Spoiled puts a hand to her chest as she asks in offended surprise, “You're asking if I did it? I don't have their phone numbers, nor do I care to attain them unless it is to complain to them.” Suddenly she looks thoughtful. “Maybe I should.”

“Don't worry! We'll call our parents!” Scootaloo snaps at Spoiled irritably. “Trust me, it would be my pleasure to get out of your stinking house.”

“If my house smells, you are undoubtedly the cause,” Spoiled quipps. “I am also looking forward to your departure so I can set the maids to cleanse your stinking filth out of my home once and for all.”

Diamond squeezes Scootaloo's shoulder once again. I notice, as I look up to her face, Diamond's face gains a firm resolve.

“Very well, Mother. I'll make sure they go home,” Diamond announces. She turns to face her mother as she adds, “and I'm going with them.”

That announcement shocks everyone in the room. I probably expected it the most.

“What are you talking about, Diamond Tiara?” Spoiled asks her daughter with rising fury. “I did not give you permission to leave or speak to me in such a disrespecting tone! As long as you live under my roof, you'll do as I say! Do you understand me?”

“I understand you perfectly,” Diamond calmly replies. “That's why I'm leaving this house!”

Everyone gasps in shock, including me but I'm mainly doing it for pretenses since it's expected of me.

In truth, I'm reading her too well at this moment. I can foresee where this conversation is going, and why it's on that track.

For once, Spoiled is speechless. She moves her lips but hardly utters a sound.

“Can I stay with one of you?” Diamond asks us pleadingly. “If not, I guess I can bunk up in a hotel somewhere.”

“Diamond, are . . . are you serious?!” Silver Spoon asks her in shock.

Diamond passes her friend a firm look as she says, “More serious than I have ever been!”

“How . . . how dare you!?” Spoiled says with a livid expression which sinks into raw fury. “How DARE YOU! Do you even know what you are saying? Do you know what you are giving up?”

“Yeah, I do!” Diamond snaps at her mother. “I'm making sure I don't become like you! A sad and pathetic woman who doesn't have any FRIENDS!” Diamond screams that last word. “Well I'm sick of it, Mother! You've told me my whole life what to do or say, and what has it ever gotten me? I almost DIED because of you!”

Spoiled closes her eyes and fluffs her hair in an arrogant pose for a moment as she says, “Fine! Go on, then! Live with them. Beg on the streets for all I care! From now on, I disown you!”

“GOOD!” Diamond shouts at her mother. “Then that means you can no longer control or torture me either.”

“Or reward you,” Spoiled begins as she opens her eyes again in order to give her daughter a hard look. “You do realize what this means, right? You are cut off from our family's fortune!” Spoiled cuts a hand sharply through the air.

That announcement did take Diamond aback for a moment, but she recovers an instant later.

“FINE! I don't want your dirty money anyway!” Diamond cries back.

“You never had it to begin with,” Spoiled says with ice in her tone. “Not really. I let you spend your stipend, but that's over now. If you are not going to make any effort to contribute to this family, then we shall not provide for you either.”

Spoiled stabs a pointing finger out the exit of the room as she demands, “GET OUT OF MY HOUSE, YOU FILTHY URCHIN! I can't stand the sight of you!

“ALL OF YOU!”





* * *





The five of us are very quiet as Diamond Tiara's former butler, Randolph, escorts us off of the Rich family property.

During the trip, I stole a gaze at Diamond several times. Because of that, I notice her struggling very hard to maintain a brave face, but I see cracks in her mask. Tiny twitches in the corners of her mouth, eyes, and chin wrinkles just a bit.

That totally makes sense. Why would there be any realistic chance that she would be okay at this moment? Sure, she might be free of her mother's crushing tyranny after this day, but Spoiled Rich is still family, and that mother is kicking her onto the streets.

It must be going through Diamond's head how easily that could have happened after all these years. All that effort to struggle to stay on her mother's good side has proven to be unnecessary on this awful night.

Just like me and my former parents. They also shunned me when things got tough. In the end, I was not good enough for them, either.

Randolph opens the front gate leading off the property. We exit to the other side but, once we are there, Randolph lingers as he gazes at Diamond Tiara's back with worry and sympathy.

“Just go, Randolph,” Diamond tries to command, but her voice is unsteady. “Please. I don't want you to see me like this.”

“Mistress, I-” he began in sympathy.

“GO!” Diamond screams out desperately.

Randolph sighs then shuts the gate. He lingers on the other side just a little longer, then sighs again as he turns and shakes his head sadly.

After he walks away only a few paces, he pauses again when he hears Diamond Tiara break down behind him.

Diamond collapses onto her knees and bawls. During this time, Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle immediately move to comfort her. Silver and I hesitate, although I am surprised that she hesitates as well. We even look at each other for that.

“Help me!” Diamond whimpers in a tiny voice, then gains strength as she repeats her request more loudly. “Please help me!” she barely manages to say before bawling again.

I can't believe it! I finally got my wish . . . sort of. I didn't cause this, but this is otherwise everything I ever wanted for her. She's lost, broken, afraid, destroyed, desperate, destitute.

The only item left on my checklist is for her to be abandoned by all of her “friends”.

Why the hell am I not happier about this?

Even more surprising, why am I feeling empty and miserable?

Is she not suffering enough? Is that it?

But this pain in her voice . . . it's so utterly real and all too familiar. I cried like this too when my parents abandoned me.

“Of course we'll help you!” Sweetie Belle agrees while struggling with her own tears. “We're all your friends now, just like you said in the video.”

“Yeah!” Scootaloo concurs. Her voice sounds much more steady, but I can hear a little bit of struggle within it. “It's just like Rainbow Dash taught me. Never ever abandon your friends! Well, I'm certainly not going to do that! I'll never do something like that!”

Scootaloo pats Diamond's back reassuringly as she says, “Stick with us. You're one of us now, a Cutie Mark Crusader.”	

“She never agreed to that!” Silver Spoon objects.

“She doesn't have to!” Scootaloo snaps at Silver. “All of our friends automatically qualify for membership.”

In a moment, Scootaloo calms down. Her expression is replaced from fury to uncertain hope.

“How about you?” Scootaloo offers to Silver Spoon. “Do you wish to join us in the Crusaders too?”

For a moment, Silver Spoon seems uncertain. Instead of answering, she gazes upon each of us to gauge our reaction, so I do the same.

Sweetie Belle is also looking at Silver Spoon with hope in her eyes. Obviously she has no qualms about making more friends, even if they used to be former enemies.

Diamond is too distraught to look at anyone at the moment.

When Silver looks at me, I meet her gaze. To answer her silent question, I nod yes. I have every intention to “join” the Crusaders if it keeps me close to Diamond. I need to keep an eye on her. Her mental state seems very dangerous and fragile right now. I can't have her breaking on me any further before I have a chance to shatter her.

I also decide to reevaluate my motives against her later. For now, I'm defaulting on Diamond being my secret enemy, but I have seen a lot of shit tonight that I desperately need to weigh carefully.

Until then, my calculations about this situation are badly in flux. It wouldn't be a stretch to call it in shambles at the moment.

Yet another development that has thrown a massive wrench into my life.

First it was Princess Twilight, then it's what I did to Sunny, and now this.

No wonder I've been so off my game lately.

After looking across each of us, Silver Spoon looks down and sighs. She almost speaks, but another does so first.

“Please help her!” an old man begs near our position. I look at Randolph gazing at us pleadingly through the gate. “I've watched her grow up from being a baby in my arms,” the old butler says with an unsteady voice. “I watched her grow to a toddler, to a young child, then to a beautiful young lady. I'll be damned if I don't see her grow up into a beautiful woman.

“In all that time, I've also seen how much abuse she suffered and how strong she tried to endure it.

“I . . . I feel like her grandfather, and I want to help in any way I can.

“To whomever agrees to accept her into their home, I humbly request you accept a stipend from me . . . from my own paycheck.”

“Randolph . . .” Silver began then trailed off, looking stunned.

“I can't stand to see her like this!” Randolph says with tears in his own eyes. “I can't offer much but I'll do whatever this old man can.”

“RANDOLPH!” Spoiled Rich's voice screams out of the intercom near the gate which ends up startling all of us. Even me. “GET BACK HERE INTO THE MANSION THIS INSTANT OR YOU'RE FIRED! Leave the filthy peasants to their miserable fate!”

Randolph sighs sadly, then says, “I . . . I have to go, but I'll contact you all later. I don't know how or when, but I promise I will.”

“He really is a good man,” Scootaloo realizes, sounding stunned. “Such loyalty. Such compassion. He kind of makes me wish he was my grandfather.”

Silver Spoon narrows her eyes with angry defiance at the intercom, then looks at us as she says, “Okay, Crusaders. For as long as you make it your mission to help save my friend, you can count me in your little club. If Diamond is joining, then I'm in too!”

“FanTASTIC!” Scootaloo cheers. “You hear that, Sweetie Belle? Two new members to our little club, and it's Diamond and Silver Spoon and . . .” she trails off with a questioning blink, then looks at me. I nod at her. Scootaloo's smile returns. She looks back at Sweetie and adds, “. . . and Cozy Glow. Our former enemies, and one of the greatest geniuses of the world, are now in our club! How cool is that?”

“It's great,” Sweetie says far less enthusiastically, “but we still have to figure out what we should do with Diamond now.”

“Personally, I know we have plenty of room in any one of our multiple mansions,” Silver informs us. “We also have plenty of servants that can watch out for her. The only problem is I don't know how my parents will feel, and something tells me her mother will pressure mine to start rejecting her.

“Rest assured, however, that even if they do, I will not!”

“Actually, you’ve got a point.” I pull out my cellphone. “We should call our parents right now. We need a ride anyway.”

Scootaloo sighs as she pulls out her cellphone from her back pants pocket. While she does, she says, “My parents would be easy to convince to let her stay with us, but the problem is our house is so packed as it is. My foster home has enough kids in it to be a school in its own right.”

“I'm sure I can convince my parents,” Sweetie says pretty confidently. “My parents are very warm and caring. We’ve got plenty of room at our house, and even more room in our hearts.”

I promise nothing until I contact my mother first. There is no reason to give false promises until it's verified.

As it turns out, my mother answers the phone unusually quickly. I doubt it rang more than once on her end.

When she answers, I don't just get an audio call. I also get a video call, but that does not amount to much in this case. Wherever she is, there isn't much lighting there.

“COZYISTHATYOU!” my mom cries out very frantically. “OHTHANKGODIWASSOWORRIED!

“Whoa! Slow down, Mom!” I urge her.

It's hard to tell, but the background behind my mom’s shadowy figure seems to be bouncing a lot. Wherever she is, it's dark but she's in a hurry.

Then I hear a crash sound from her end. When that happens, my heart skips a beat and my blood freezes.

“Mom?!” I ask, startled. “MOM?! MOM?! ARE YOU OKAY? PLEASE ANSWER ME!”

This immediately seizes the attention of every other girl in the vicinity, including the otherwise broken Diamond Tiara.

“Oh my GOSH! Is she okay?” Sweetie asks in worry. “Should we call an ambulance?”

“Ohh!” my mother moans in pain.

“Mom, please answer me!” I call to her frantically, quickly feeling tears rise to my eyes.

“Cozy, I'm okay!” my mother answers me. “I just . . . fell because I was in such a rush.”

A collective sigh escapes all of our lips.

“Oh, darn it!” I hear my mother complain.

“What is it?” I ask in renewed fear.

“I can't believe this! I guess we're both massive klutzes!” my mother says in amusement. “I broke my glasses too. You know, my smart glasses, just like you did so recently.”

“Oh!” I blink. I know this news should irk me, but I am just so relieved nothing more serious broke.

Like my beloved mother.

“I guess I'm going to have to order a replacement for both of our glasses now,” my mother realizes as she scoops up her phone. At last her image comes into view. It's still dark, but she holds the light close enough to her face that her cellphone's own screen illuminates her face a bit. Thanks to that, I can see that her glasses are indeed cracked as well.

“Cozy, are you alright?” my mother asks me with lingering concern. “The watch you are wearing sent me a notification that your heart rate increased dramatically within the past twenty minutes! I wanted to send an ambulance to you right away but I couldn't get a fix on your coordinates. Are you still at the Rich mansion?”

“Um . . . we're right outside of it, actually,” I report to her.

“Cozy . . . something is wrong!” My mother is able to tell, probably based on the sound of my voice, a short description of my situation, and possibly even a mother's instinct. “Tell me what it is, Honey. I want to help!”

I sigh as I look back at her, then say, “It's a long story. I'll gladly explain it to you later after you pick us up.”

“You got it!” my mother agrees immediately. “I'm coming over right away.”

“Will she be okay driving without her glasses?” Sweetie Belle asks in worry.

“I'll manage!” my mother says determinedly. “If my darling girl is in trouble then neither hell nor high water is going to stop me!

“Stay on the line, Honey! I'm coming to get you!”

“Well,” I say as I look up at the other girls. “I guess it's my turn first to take care of Diamond Tiara.”
> Chapter Thirty: Devil and Angel on My Shoulder {Warning: Mature}
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Hellooooooo!” I cry out desperately. “Is anyone there? Can anybody hear me?”

I know it's a distant shot in the dark but I have no choice but to try. I have to find someone! I can't stand being alone!

But, no matter how much I want to deny it, there is clearly nobody else around. The scattered objects, crashed cars, and broken windows all around me are clear evidence that some kind of epic apocalypse has wiped out every member of my species except for me.

No. Worse! I can't even find any animals.

An ominous crimson sky hangs over me like the color of blood. This isn't like the orange flare of the sky during morning or sundown. No. This is far more unusual. I have never seen the sky quite like that. It is a clear indication that something is wrong. It might even have something to do with why I am alone.

I bend down and scoop up a discarded teddy bear. One of its eyes is missing and the stuffing on its belly is leaking out as if its guts are spilling out. Despite its damaged condition, I can feel the sentimental value this object once had to someone. Only something epic and wholly unnatural could have forced this child to part with something this special.

I hug the dejected treasure to my chest. Doing so makes me feel slightly closer to human contact.

I know exactly how this object feels. To be abandoned and alone in the world.

Tears rush to my eyes. Pain squeezes in my chest.

I can't accept this! I just can't! There has to be somebody out there! Anybody will do!

Please! I don't wish to be alone!

I search my house. It is a destination I arrive within quite suddenly, but I am in no mood to contemplate that.

I roam the hallways, the living room, the bedroom, the kitchen, the backyard . . . it all reports the same story. Broken, scattered objects. Paint peeling off the walls as if this house has been abandoned for centuries.

In the hallway, I bend down to pick up a framed picture that once hung on the wall. This picture shows a very faded image of my mother hugging me from the side as we both look towards the camera within a photo booth at a fair. Within the picture, I am holding a stuffed unicorn with sparkly, silver mane that glistens with glitter. My other hand is holding half-eaten cotton candy. That same arm is looped around my mother's neck. Both of us are looking at the camera with goofy-looking faces.

The glass in front of the picture is badly cracked.

I touch the damaged glass as tears drip from my cheeks.

Is it worth holding on to better memories when I know they'll never come again? All the joy I once felt on that day is now twisted into sorrow.

Despondently, I continue to roam my house and several others. I don't really feel any hope in my soul of finding someone else, but the pain I feel in my chest is too strong to allow me to give up completely. My fate is just too horrible to permit that.

Then, in someone else's garden area, I encountered the statue that once was in Canterlot Garden. The three stoned figures are still frozen together as one. I barely notice the other two, to the point where I have forgotten what they look like. Instead, my eye is inevitably drawn to the frozen image of my pony counterpart.

Now I know how she feels to be all alone in this place. In a way, I feel even worse for her. I may be the last human on earth but at least I get to die someday. Pony Cozy, however, will go on existing in this abandoned, lifeless world, potentially forever.

“I wish you could talk to me,” I say sadly as I touch one of her elbows. Her hooves are resting against her cheeks, her expression frozen in horror. “If you could, I suppose it would be like talking to myself, but I'd settle for that. I just need to hear another voice!”

I hear an ominous thunderstorm in the distance. It draws my attention because I haven't heard anything like it in a long time. It feels like several years at least.

I make my way out of the mysterious home I was in. Looking above me at the dark crimson sky, I see a black cloud billow its way into existence. Clearly, it is not a normal-looking cloud. I have never seen anything like it except for one time. The closest thing it resembles is The Nothing in “The NeverEnding Story.”

My shoulders sag as I realize I am quite likely beholding the very reason I am alone in this world. Whatever this thing is, this force . . . it probably caused the others to disappear.

Is that what's about to happen to me? Am I about to die? Will it hurt? What is going to happen to me afterward?

Whatever the afterlife is like, I hope there are others there who will give me attention. I am willing to accept a quick, painful death if it means my soul won't slowly decay in this lonely world.

The black cloud spills a long tendril from it. It twists and billows, but not as much as the black cloud it is stretching from. When it touches down on the earth about seventeen feet ahead of me, the ominous black cloud far into the background shrinks as if the tendril in front of me were a straw that is sucking up the black cloud in the sky.

And yet the smaller black cloud ahead of me does not grow much bigger.

Instead, glowing eyes pop open within them. The same crimson slits with green background and purple wisp that I saw in one of my nightmares many years ago.

Or, at least, I thought it was a nightmare. If only I had known, back then, that I was carrying within me the force that would one day destroy the world.

A gaping maw opens up from this dark entity.

Then, at last, I hear the first words spoken to me in so many years.

“Hello, poppet!” the sinister being greets me. “Remember me?”

“Yes,” I respond despondently. “I remember you, and I'm no longer afraid of you. There is nothing you can do to me that I haven't already suffered, or worse. So, if you are going to finish me off, just get it over with!”

His eyes narrow at me. His lips seem to twist into a sinful smirk in amusement.

“Now why would I go ahead and destroy you?” he asks me. “You who are to be my next vessel.”

“Do you mean it?” I ask with rising hope. I don't care what he'll make me do anymore. If he joins inside me and takes over my body, at least that means I won't be alone. More to the contrary. It means I'll be especially close to someone.

Someone who will give me attention!

Whoever this is, it may be an evil entity that wiped out all other life on this planet, but that means he truly is the last being in the whole world who can judge me, talk to me, and be with me. If he really is the last sentient being on this planet other than myself, then I need to make sure to please him at all costs! I'll please him and serve him just to make sure I am not alone anymore!

“Yesssss! That's it!” the entity agrees as if responding to my thoughts. “You are on the right track, my little one!

“Now, kneel before your KING!”

I kneel down immediately. I have no choice. I can't afford to displease this entity. Not while he has the power to abandon me. I must please him as much as I can to avoid that unbearable fate.

“Goooood!” the dark entity seems to purr in pleasure as he floats closer to me. “You know your place, little one.”

I just stare up at him. I mostly feel empty inside, but I feel just a sliver of hope and fulfillment. As long as he is paying attention to me, I'll avoid a far worse fate.

“Let us test your recognition of your status,” the dark entity declares. “Now tell me, little poppet, what are you?”

“I am a slave,” I answer with no hesitation.

“That's right!” he agrees a bit cheerfully. He looms over me. His black shadow is cast over me. “And whom do you serve? To whom do you belong?”

“To you, Master,” I answer just as quickly. “Every part of me. My body, my mind, my soul . . . it is all yours to command, Master.”

“Very good!” my master tells me gleefully. “Your master is proud of you. Never forget this, my little poppet!”

“I will not, Master,” I promise him while smiling a bit.

My master approves of me! YAY! That means he is that much more unlikely to abandon me!

“Let's test your resolve in this relationship,” the dark entity decides. “If you are going to be my slave, then you'll need commands to obey.” He brushes a wispy, smokey tendril against my face. It feels icy cold to the touch, and yet my heart melts with pleasure.

Attention! More attention! I must have more!

“Of course, Master,” I reply matter-of-factly. “I am yours to command. I cannot resist you. I am your slave.”

“Good! As long as you remember that, we're going to get along famously!”

I soak up the attention. Glee fills my heart at the thought that master approves of me.

“Now, my little poppet . . . spread your legs!” my master commands me.

I obey but it’s a bit difficult. Since I'm sitting on my bent legs with my light, petite weight against the solid concrete, I struggle a little bit to obey his command but I ultimately do it, for I am determined.

I have to do it! I must obey that command and every other because this isn't my body anymore. It's his. Only he can command it.

“Yesssss! That's it!” my master says with approval when I spread my legs.

I smile slightly as I stare into his eyes until he sinks so far below my sight that I can't see him anymore. Instead of that, he maneuvers his face beneath my skirt.

A chill races down my spine as I linger in fear, anticipation and perhaps some excitement because I don't know what he's going to do to me next, or what he'll command me to do. Whatever it is, I'll have no choice but to accept that fate. I can't control my body anymore. It's his property, after all.

I feel a cool wisp blow against my inner thighs. Somehow that chill seeps right through my panties. I feel the chill sink within me as if I'm penetrated by pure ice. Electric shock rises up my spine.

I've never had this sensation before, yet oddly it feels strangely familiar. This helplessness, this surrender, this physical sensation . . . was it in a dream I had many years ago?

I can't remember.

But, whether it is true or not, it no longer matters to me. This is my reality now. Whatever came before no longer matters. A slave's past no longer matters. Only the moment the ownership began and onward bears any relevance anymore.

“Hmm. Well,” the entity rises in front of me to peer back at my face, “it's not a pony pussy, but it will have to do. I can't expect much better from this world.”

Panic explodes within me!

Oh no! Does he disapprove of my pussy? But I can't help it! I was born human! It's not my fault!

NO! What if he disproves so much that he'll abandon me? How can I possibly make this up to him? How?!

“Oh, fear not, my little poppet,” my master coos to soothe my fears while brushing another shadowy tendril across my face then neck. “I wouldn't let something like that stop me from relishing my new possession. Besides, there are some ways to remold you into a more fitting vessel for my majesty!”

I smile at him slightly, feeling a little reassured, but my confidence is still a bit shot. Since my master already found a flaw in me so early in our relationship, I feel on edge as if one more disappointment on his part will cause him to abandon me.

I cannot let that happen! I must be perfect! A perfect slave for him!

He looks down at my spread bent knees, then says to me, “I see your legs are still spread,” he notes in approval.

“Of course, Master,” I tell him eagerly. “You told me to spread them, so I did!”

“Can you close your legs again without my permission?” the entity checks as he looks back at my eyes.

I vigorously shake my head no as I say, “No, Master! Never! I can never do something unless you order me too! This is your body I'm wearing, not mine! I can't command it! I am stuck this way for all eternity unless you order otherwise.”

He smiles at me in approval. I feel like I passed another test. My heart leaps in joy to notice his approval of me.

“Cup your breasts!” my master commands me.

I immediately obey. While I do so, a brief moment of panic flashes through my mind.

By cupping my breasts with my hands, I am reminded how small they are. They are only a B cup, and just barely at that. What if he doesn't approve of that either? What if it reinforces his desire to abandon me?

Once again, that's not fair! I can't help that!

Besides, it will keep growing! I'm sure of it! I'm still just a growing girl! He'll see!

I hope.

“Squeeze your breasts,” my master commands.

I do so while a small flood of relief flows through me.

So far, so good. He hasn't complained about my breast size yet. I can't tell for sure if he disapproves of it or not. All I know is he considers me still worthy of commanding. For the moment, my obedience itself seems to be the only thing he's carefully measuring right now. I even suspect that the orders themselves are superfluous and superficial. All of it is just a test. A test that I could pass or fail.

I must not fail!

“Now, rotate the squeeze on your chest into a slow circle,” he commands.

I obey.

I feel my hands rotate mechanically on my squashed breasts. It feels odd to notice the sensation from both of my hands and breasts and yet be unable to stop it, as if someone else is doing this to me.

He leans forward at me in appraisal as he commands, “Now then . . . open your mouth.”

I obey.

This latest command feels familiar. When did this happen before?

He leans in close to inspect the insides of my mouth.

“Hmm. You have flat, pristine teeth,” my master notes in approval. Maybe also surprise. “I didn't expect that from my newest property. I thought your species would have more jagged teeth. You are meat eaters, are you not?

	“Oh, and you can close your mouth now.”

“Partially,” I answer him honestly. “My species are actually omnivorous. We can eat both vegetables and meat.”

He regards me in pleasant surprise as he asks, “Really?”

“Yes, Master,” I confirm, then I look at him with worry. “I hope that's okay with you.”

“Okay? This is fantastic!” my master cheers. “That means I can feed you whatever I want.”

“Yes Master,” I tell him.

The second after I tell him, I think of a whole bunch of things that I can't eat and expect to continue to live.

For now, however, I'll let him relish his discovery. I don't want to risk disappointing him. Not until I have to.

“Um . . . may a slave ask you a question?” I ask him in a timid little voice which is full of worry that he'll disapprove.

In response, he merely nods at me to go ahead. I notice how he's watching me sharply, judging my every word and action. It makes me feel very nervous.

“I, ah . . . notice that you have fangs,” I observe in a tiny voice. “Does this mean that your species are meat eaters?” I close my eyes and shrivel in fear. “Please forgive your slave's curiosity, Master!” I beg him with a little more volume in my voice.

He looks off to his side. For the first time, I notice a bit of an empty and sad look to him.

“Not normally, no,” he answers me. “My species is normally a herbivore.”

“Herbivore?” I echo questioningly, then I widen my eyes in astonishment when I recall something.

The first day I met him (or at least that I think I met him), he smashed my computer screen from the other side. Back then it kind of looked like a hoof print.

Also, he once made mention of Horse-Land magic. Could he be . . .?

“Oh golly!” I exclaim in astonishment. “Sweet cheese and crackers! Are you a pony, my master?”

“I used to be,” he answers as he looks back at me.

I cock my head to the side as I ask, “Used to be? Forgive a slave's curiosity, Master, but if you are not a pony anymore . . . what are you, exactly?”

He gives me a sinister smile as he answers somewhat enigmatically, “I am darkness incarnate!”

Well . . . based on what I can tell about him . . . I can't argue with that.

Besides, even if it is a lie, he can tell me anything he damn well pleases. I'm his slave for crying out loud! He can make me believe whatever he wants me to believe.

If I take his statement literally for a moment, I guess I have to conclude that other ponies are normally not darkness incarnate. Based on what I have personally observed, that adds up. Ponies seem to have a lot of darkness within themselves while outwardly pretending to be cute and innocent. It's such a clever deception.

I approve!

I sigh.

I wonder what he'll make me do next? I am eager to find out.

“I ask you again,” my master speaks as he leans in close, “what are you?”

I am confused for a moment. “Ah . . . human?” I answer with uncertainty because I'm not sure if that is the answer he's looking for.

He shook his head. “No. I mean more fundamentally, although I do understand you are correct on a technical level.”

Oh! I get it! I know what he wants to hear!

“I am a slave, Master!” I remind him cheerfully.

“Are you?” he checks.

“Yes, Master!”

“For how long will you remain one?”

“For as long as my master wishes.”

“Do you approve of being a slave? Do you accept it?”

“Um . . .” I hesitate, then answer, “I don't think it really matters if I approve or not. A girl's will,” I shrug carelessly, “means nothing. I am your slave whether I approve or not. I can't help it. It is an intrinsic factor.” I look down with a bit of depression. “Just like I can't change the fact that I'm female or human. Those things are beyond my control as well.”

“Not beyond MINE!” my master assures me.

“You mean it?” I ask him with rising hope. “Can you transform me into a form more pleasing to you now, Master?”

He chuckles at me darkly, then answers while a black cloud sweeps through my hair. I feel a chill sinking into my skull as he does so, and yet I can't help like I'm swimming in pleasure!

“In due time,” my master answers. “Certain things must be in alignment first. Magic is a science of its own. It has its own set of rules that all who trot it must follow. Even me.”

“Is there some way I can help?” I ask him hopefully.

“You are doing it right now!” my master assures me. “By surrendering your body and will to me, you make yourself more mine. That is part of what is required for the spell.”

“But I've already done that!” I argue. “I've completely surrendered myself to you! What more do you require?”

He shakes his head as he tells me, “You've only surrendered to me on the surface of your consciousness. For the spell to work, I must go deeper into your being. I must own you completely on every level of your being. Only then can I take you over.”

“Um . . . how do I help in the meantime, Master?”

“Just obey me. Give me instant obedience to every command. Feel fulfillment and happiness with every command you obey.”

“Yes Master!” I cry ecstatically. “I will! I always will! I'm your girl! Your property! I'm your toy! Command me, and I will be helpless to obey!”

“NOOOOOO!” an unexpected scream from a woman cries out. I look to my right. I simply see a burst of light explode and wash over me.

For some reason that light pushes my master about twenty feet away. When I recover, I also notice he appears a bit injured . . . maybe? Since he is apparently black smoke with glowing eyes, it's hard to tell when he's injured.

There is just something about him that seems a bit smaller and weaker after that light blast. It's hard to put my finger as to why I feel that way.

I look back to my right to identify who caused that light. While I do so, my heart flutters with amazed disbelief.

Really? There is another person here who can pay attention to me?

But . . . how? I thought this entity destroyed all the others!

And I do mean all the others.

My eyes are so adjusted to the darkness that, at first, it is hard to tell who this newcomer is until she gets closer. When she does, I realize I recognize her, except there are a few differences.

“Sunny?!” I ask in amazed astonishment. “But . . . how? You died many years ago!”

I can't believe it! This is Sunny, except somehow more than she ever was before.

To begin with, she is wearing a gold and ruby outfit that shines in the light. Possibly even causing some of the light. A golden aura also hovers around her. It's especially bright on her wings and horn that is made of pure, radiant light.

Meanwhile, my master hisses at her in hatred. He tries to advance forward but the radiant light around Sunny seems to burn him the moment he crosses the threshold. He backs off then growls at her in even greater hatred.

“No, Cozy Glow. I did not die!” Sunny assures me as she bends down and pats me on the shoulder, followed by a comforting squeeze. “I am your friend and that means I can never die as long as you need me. I promised that I would be there for you whenever you needed me, and I meant it!”

I think back to that time when Sunny made that promise. I recall how she put her hand on my chest and made that declaration with such passion in her eyes. I knew she meant every word but I did not expect her to break the impossible to keep her word.

“Stay back!” my master hisses then blasts the golden barrier with a popping purple/black hornbeam from a red crimson horn (much like the sky is right now) that grew up from above his eyes. The hornbeam had no effect other than to further illustrate where the barrier is.

“She is MINE!” my master cries out possessively. “My property! My slave! You have no right to interfere!”

“I dispute every single word you said!” Sunny spits in disgust as she whips her head back to glare at him through narrow eyes. “You don't own jack shit, you miserable pile of forgotten lore! Disappear back into the nether realm where you belong! Nobody owns Cozy Glow except for herself!

“And, ah, Cozy . . .” Sunny looks back at me while her face turns crimson with a bit of embarrassment, “you can stop squeezing and stroking your breasts now if you want, Honey. There is no reason to listen to anything he tells you to do.”

Oh! I didn't realize I was still doing it!

I look down at my own chest as my hands slow to a stop, then I gently release my chest.

“NO! I didn't give you permission to stop!” the dark entity roars at me in disapproval.

“As I said, you don't need to listen to him anymore if you don't want to.”

Sunny lunges forward and embraces me in a warm hug. Until she did that, I didn't realize how much I needed that.

“I know things feel confusing to you right now, but trust me . . . things will get better!” Sunny promises me over my shoulder. “I used to be just like you! I used to be lost in darkness as well, but then some amazing friends reached down and scooped me up! They drew me out of my previous pit of despair.

“And now, Cozy, it's your turn to shine! I am extending my hand to you! If you take it, I promise you that I will lift you up into the light! The light of friendship!”

“Friendship?” I ask her skeptically. “There is no such thing.”

“Yes there IS!” Sunny pulls back and gazes at me with a stare that strongly communicates her desperation for me to understand her. “Friendship is magic, Cozy! You may be tempted to put the word 'friendship' in quotes all the time when you say or even think it but, I'm telling you, you are ignoring the greatest source of your power! A power that he,” she nods back to the dark entity with disgust, “wants you to forget and ignore. He wants this so he can enslave you, but Honey . . . nobody can make you do anything against your will.

“This,” she places a very warm hand upon my chest. As the touch continues, I feel warmth flooding into my icy cold soul. It melts my heart with pleasure.

She goes on.

“is your life, Cozy! You choose how you wish to live it and whom you share it with. Please don't think that you must be doomed to live in the shadow of your pony counterpart's fate. You are in charge of your own life and destiny. That's what cutie marks are there to prove!

“You visited my original world once, Cozy. You saw a mark on your flank while you were there. Well, that's your proof! That is your verification that you are in charge of your life and destiny.”

I look at her in confusion. “Wait! How did you know that? You weren't there with me!”

“Cozy,” Sunny presses her hand deeper into my chest as she says, “I never left your side! Not ever since I made that promise to you.”

“Why?” I ask her while squinting my left eye.

“Because, all this time, you needed me, and I promised I'd be there for you if you needed me!” Sunny tells me earnestly.

The dark entity laughs and scoffs, then says, “Sentimental tripe! Your words mean nothing to my property! She thinks in reason and logic, and you offer her nothing she can sink her mind into! You LOSE, Sunset Shimmer! Cozy Glow is MINE once and for all!”

Sunny glances at him for a second, then she looks back at me with a worried look in her eyes as she asks me, “Is that true, Cozy? Are you willingly giving yourself to him as a slave?”

“You ask that as if she has a choice. Well, she does not! It is I who has decided her fate for her!”

I feel stunned and speechless.

“I thought you wanted to rule the world yourself,” Sunny reminds me. “Why bow to him to accomplish that? Are you a Queen, or are you a slave?”

I am quiet. I don't know what to say. I feel so scared and confused.

“Well, I'll tell you what I see,” Sunny put in. “I see a girl who is lost and scared. A girl who is still growing up and figuring out things for herself. I know you still have a long way to go. We were all like that at that age, but trust me . . . you are still an amazing person, Cozy! You are so talented and strong. Nothing can stop you when you set your mind to something.”

I look down sadly, reminded of how my “set mind” put her in jail.

“Cozy, please look at me, Honey,” Sunny begs me.

I do so.

“I know you have wronged me,” Sunny informs me emphatically, “but I made mistakes too when I was your age. I'm going to share with you now what was once shared with me, even though I didn't deserve it.

“Cozy,” she scoops up my right hand and squeezes it between both of her very warm and soothing hands, “I forgive you. I will always forgive you! I forgive you because I love you, Sweetie! You are precious to me! You are my friend. Because of that, I will never abandon or betray you, because that is what friendship is! We forgive each other because we care for each other.

“No matter how much you think you don't deserve this, you cannot shake that fact. You cannot control me just like he can't control you against your will. I have my own will as well, and I will always use it to cherish you as my friend.”

Sunset Shimmer does not get up so much as she floats back to a standing position. From above me, she reaches down a red gloved hand to me.

“Take my hand, Cozy! Please!” Sunny begs me. “Take it and I will show you another world. A better world than this! You no longer have to be trapped in darkness. Not if you don't want to be.”

“She lies!” the dark entity spat. “There is no other world than this! I destroyed it. I destroyed them all!”

Sunny glances back at him for a second, then looks back at me.

“Cozy, you have a choice right now, Honey,” she tells me. “I know it's scary and confusing, but you're going to have to choose which one of us you prefer to listen to. Which one of our two realities do you want to embrace?

“I beg you, look within your own heart for once instead of your head, and ask yourself . . . do you want to wallow in darkness alone, or do you wish to join me as I guide you to all the others that are eagerly awaiting to embrace you in friendship?”

“There are others out there?” I ask her in rising hope.

That's what I want! I want attention! I don't want to be alone anymore!

“YES!” Sunny confirms excitedly. “They are all waiting out there for you to meet them!”

Sunny put a hand at the back of her mouth as she leans towards me and whispers conspiratorially, “Don't tell anyone else I said this, but there may or may not be a surprise party in your future prepared by a certain peppy friend of mine if you choose to join me.” Sunny follows that statement with a happy wink at me.

“ENOUGH of this charade!” the dark entity barks out in irritation. He then looks straight at me as he commands, “Slave, I ORDER you to tell her that you belong to me! That you will always belong to me!” He gives me a sinister grin. “You know who and what you are! You know what fate you deserve! You are just like me! HATRED is your strength!”

I gaze at him blankly. As I do so, emptiness starts to fill inside me again. I realize that he does have a point. I am his slave. As such, I must obey him if he commands me.

“Cozy . . .” Sunny says sadly as the hand that extended to me slowly lowers in crushing disappointment.

“As I have said,” the dark entity says to Sunny as he gloats in victory, “Cozy Glow is MINE! I have claimed her, and you can't take her back from me!”

“I am sorry, Sunny,” I say as tears rise to my eyes. I do love her, and I feel like I owe her a world of favors, but I cannot deny the truth. “He is right,” I tell her with regret. “He is my master, and I cannot disobey him.”

“Cozy,” Sunny closes her eyes and starts to cry. Her fists shake to her sides. After that her whole body shakes, and she screeches out “NOOOOO!”

Another brilliant flare of light bursts from her body. It burns and pushes my master even further back, eventually doubling the distance he had before.

“I will NOT give up on you, Cozy!” Sunny cries out. “I can't give up! I'll NEVER give up, because that is what friends do!”

“Screech and holler all you wish!None of that is going to change the facts!” my master brags then laughs maniacally.

Sunny brings a quaking, red gloved fist near her face. Her eyes wince tightly, then she quietly utters, “No!”

Then, without warning, a brilliant golden column of light bursts from her and pierces the heavens. I shade my eyes with a hand as I look up at this in awe. There does not seem to be a limit to that column of light at all! It's as if it stretches to infinity and beyond!

The light widens and pushes my master back even further.

During this time, Sunset Shimmer floats up about eighteen feet off the ground as the light continues to intensify. Even her hair floats up and waves as if it is a flickering flame.

I feel as if the light should be pushing me back. After all, every other random object in the area is being scattered away from a powerful blast of . . . something . . . in the area. However, despite all that pressure, I don't budge an inch.

Unlike my master, who is struggling to resist the blowback. The mere attempt to do so makes him disintegrate little by little.

Looking up, I see tiny specks of light shoot into Sunny over and over again. They look like colorful little symbols, and I think I recognize them. There is a rainbow pattern shaped like lightning, a pink butterfly symbol, an orange apple, three balloon-shaped symbols with three different colors, a blue diamond, and a purple star which I am especially confident represents the cutie mark of my mother's counterpart.

But it does not stop there. Other symbols I don't recognize at all also flow into Sunset.

Actually, I take it back. They are vaguely familiar. I've seen them somewhere before. I just can't put my finger on it.

I think one of them is the symbol of a Diamond Tiara.

Whatever those symbols are, it seems to be why Sunny's power is building up non-stop. For every five seconds that goes by, the intensity of the light's strength seems to double.

There isn't an end to this rise of awe-inspiring power! I am amazed!

Apparently, my master is similarly impressed.

“What . . . what are you?!” he asks in dumbfounded awe.

Still floating in the air, Sunny turns to face my master. She lifts up her left hand in front of her. In front of her hand, a massive energy ball grows and it doubles every second. Before he could lose sight of her face behind the white ball, she screams, “NO!” then blasts him with the energy ball.





* * *





I wake up with a start. Sweat pours down my brow.

Oh man! What a dream! That felt . . . intense!

I cover my face with both hands for a moment. That causes me to realize how sweaty I am. Disgusted about this, I decide to do something about it.

I go to the bathroom and splash water on my face several times to wipe away all the grimy sweat. I even use some soap in this process. If I'm going to do this, I might as well do this right.

After that, I proceed to the kitchen where I pour myself a cup of jasmine tea. Right now I feel like I desperately need it.

On my way back to my room, I pause when I hear an unfamiliar sound in the living room. The area is dark, but I hear a light snoring sound somewhere within our living room.

I am confused and scared by this. A stranger is sleeping in our home!

But then I recall that I invited Diamond Tiara into my home, and my mother approved. Further arrangements might have to be made later on a legal front, but my mother eagerly, and I would even go so far as to say desperately invited Diamond to stay with us.

Huh. It's just like my mother to invite broken strays into her home.

Well, whatever! I'll deal with these thoughts and feelings later.

I return to my room and flick on the light, albeit a soft bluish light. More like a night light.

I set the cup of tea on my desk. I stir it a little then bring it up to my lips to sip the drink. I set it back down after that.

I realize that was just a dream a moment ago, but I can't help but feel like there was a powerful symbolic meaning to it, not to mention that I feel really different ever since I woke up. Whether that is a good thing or bad thing is yet to be determined.

One thing is for sure, though. I certainly haven't recovered from my guilt about Sunny. That dream served to remind me of that fact all the more.

During the dream, I felt so relieved that she was present beside me. Ever since I woke up, however, the dream felt like a slap in the face. It felt like the dream was taunting me by saying, “HA-HA! Fooled you! You thought Sunny was beside you for a moment and had forgiven you, but nooooooooo! She's still in jail where you sent her, most likely hating your guts with a passion!”

“Sunny!” I whimper as I pull my knees up to my chest and hug them from behind. “I'm so . . . so very sorry! I wish it was true! I wish you could forgive me, but-”

I am interrupted from that train of thought by a pat and squeeze on my right shoulder.

Feeling startled, I gaze forward at the reflection of my computer screen. It's hard to tell because the screen is black, but the reflection I see on the screen does indeed appear to be Sunny!

“SUNNY!” I cry excitedly as I whirl around on my computer chair. I don't know how she managed to pull it off, but it is her! I felt her! I saw her on my computer screen!

However, behind me, nobody is there. I am alone in my room.

I blink at this, feeling stunned.

I look at my shoulder. I still feel a touch there but it's fading. It is much like a phantom sensation.

Tears of anguish return to my eyes. I don't know how many times fantasy and reality are going to slap me hard in the face tonight.

Maybe I really am going nuts.
> Chapter Thirty One: Existential Crisis
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Arf-arf-arf, arf-arf-arf, arf-arf-arf.”

I slowly crack my eyes open to glare at my puppy dog novelty alarm clock before slapping it hard on top of the head.

Shut UP, you stupid mutt!

I groan as I roll onto my back while resting my right hand on my forehead. I stare up to the cover above my bed idly.

Damn it! I'm still young. I probably will have many more mornings like this to “look forward to”.

Man! I don't feel like getting up.

Instead, I contemplate the dream, or rather nightmare, that I had last night.

Very rarely do I remember my dreams as clearly as the one last night. That dream is so vivid in detail for me that I feel like I actually lived it.

I know the dream is ridiculous and “dream-like”, but it does reveal a startling revelation for me.

For years I have feared my mother abandoning me, just like my birth parents did. Also, I thought that the sight of my stoned pony self awakened a sense of cleithrophobia in me, and it probably did, but both fears have a common source. Both fears extend from a larger problem.

I genuinely can't stand the thought of being alone!

I did not consciously realize how much that bothers me until last night's dream, but the experience of being the last being alive clearly illustrates something within me. Under those circumstances, I think I'd rather be dead. If things ever got that bad and I lost all hope that it would ever change, I don't think I could live like that. I actually would end my own life.

Strange that this finally occurs to me so shortly after meeting someone else who contemplated ending her life by the knife.

Or maybe . . . it isn't a coincidence?

Another thing that bothers me about the dream is just how thoroughly I was willing to surrender to that dark entity. I truly was willing to commit myself wholly as a slave. The real kicker of it is that a strong part of me understands why. If things really got that bad for me on the earth, then any glimmer of attention I gained, I would desperately cling to. I'd give anything to hold onto that sliver.

Even more disturbing is the lingering feeling of how much I enjoyed that experience. Now that I am awake and have hindsight into this situation, I feel disgusted that the idea still has a powerful allure over me. The idea of surrendering my body and will to another . . . I'm amazed how much the thrill that idea draws in me.

Maybe it is because of the simplicity of it. The idea of giving myself to another all of a sudden makes me wholly innocent. Not of past crimes, but of future crimes. Anything he commands me to do, it would be his fault, not mine. My hands are clean no matter what I'm forced to obey.

Well . . . that may be a surprisingly pleasant fantasy, but therein lies it's inherent problem. It is a fantasy, which means nobody will sweep me off my feet and force me to complete and utter surrender. Instead of that, I'm forced to deal with my own life and all of its all-too-real consequences.

Lately those consequences have been piling up in my heart. No wonder a strong part of me wants to give up and surrender to someone else. I guess I'm getting tired of running my own life. It's just so exhausting and painful lately.

I sigh.

Well . . . there's nothing else for it. Time to get up.





* * *





It's definitely one of “those” mornings.

I honestly forgot that Diamond Tiara is still here. I made my way to the bathroom in order to take a shower while wearing nothing but my panties and a tiny bra. As I pass the living room, I hear her gasp within it. I look at her as she beholds me in such little attire. When I see her in return, it snaps into my head, “Oh yeah! I forgot she's here! Next time I'll wrap myself in a towel.”

The moment I see her, she attempts to regather her composure, although this is also the moment I realize, “Well, I guess it's okay. We're both girls and she sees me undress in the locker room anyway so I guess it's no big deal.”

Still, it's a factor that both of us are unaccustomed to in our personal lives. It's as if she's in my personal space. She's aware of that too, and it does bother her some but she also can't help it.

In an attempt to diffuse the awkward situation a bit, I give her a two-finger salute to non-verbally let her know that I'm not bothered by this encounter. The truth is I am bothered by this a little, but I don't want this situation to continue to remain “weird”.

That seems to help. Diamond calms down a little and gives me a nod of acceptance.

I continue on my way to the bathroom while contemplating these latest developments.

I realize that this newest situation I find myself in with Diamond is a great opportunity. I am in a massively advantageous tactical position to learn more about her mindset.

But the main problem with this is the fact I did not plan on it. I succeeded in my goal to get close to her a little too well. This feels like too much, too fast. That bothers me because it makes me realize that I lost control of the situation. The end results may be in my favor for the moment, but I am still bothered by how easily that might not have happened. When I lose control of a situation, potentially anything can happen, and I frickin’ hate surprises! I despise gambling on the chance that all my plans may go awry.

Regardless, this is my reality right now, and I don't have a plan for it. Visiting Diamond's house is one thing, but her ending up living with me afterwards goes far beyond my original plans. At this rate, she may end up learning too much about me as well.

Worse . . . what if I grow to like her by virtue of more consistent exposure? I already despise her guts so a change with my living status isn't likely to worsen that. Instead, it can only improve. If it does, that would put a severe damper on my revenge scheme. If that falls through, then I framed Sunset Shimmer for no other reason other than to protect my relationship with my mother.

While I take a shower, I gather more evidence of how I'm fundamentally a different person today. Normally I really enjoy taking a shower. Normally I love the feeling of warm water dripping down my silky smooth skin . . . but, today, my heart just isn't in it for some reason.

Instead, I move more mechanically. This feels more like a chore. Something to “get over with” so I can move on with my life.

Then, back in my bedroom, I have a lot of trouble getting my clothes on right. I miss a few buttons on my white blouse. When I notice this, I have to undo some of my progress and start over again.

After that, while I try to tie my teal tie on my neck, I get it wrong over and over again. One side or another keeps ending up longer. I try to adjust it but it keeps on happening. Eventually I growl at it in frustration then rip it off.

FINE! Whatever! I guess I don't need everything to be perfect all the time.

I regard my hair in the reflection, then groan again. It, too, is a mess.

It feels like my whole goddamn life is a mess, and I am so sick and tired of the struggle to fix things all the time!

I wish that dark entity would sweep me up and claim my life. That way I don't have to worry or struggle about my plans anymore. Instead, I can just focus on one man . . . or being . . . or whatever the heck he is.

Dang it, get it together Cozy! He doesn't even exist! He's a figment of your imagination at most. A hallucination that is a sure sign of your deteriorating mental state.

Although, I have to realize, if my mind is deteriorating, then there is a reason for it. I have a pretty good idea what that reason is, too, but I feel like I can't really change it at this point. I feel like a train that is stuck on a single track. There is nowhere to go but to move forward. If there is hardship along the way, I'll just have to do my best to endure it.

“Cozy?” my mother checks on me as she opens my door while knocking on it lightly. When she sees me, she recoils a bit. “Oh! Sorry! I guess you're not finished dressing yet.”

“What do you mean?” I question her.

“Well, you . . . For one thing, you still don't have a skirt on,” my mother points out.

I don't?

I look down to check myself. I feel startled and embarrassed to notice that she's right!

Dang it! What would have happened to me if she didn't stumble her way into my room and point that out? Am I so out of it today that I would have gone all the way to school with no bottom on other than just my underwear?

Huh. I wish I could just blame this on some lewd entity that possessed me and wishes to embarrass me for some reason, but I have to face the facts. This is my fault, and I have to pull myself together.

Anyway, this is simple enough to fix. I reach over to one of my drawers, pull it open, then select a skirt that seems to compliment my white blouse.

“What is it, mother?” I ask her as I pull out my skirt from the drawer. “Why have you come to me?”

“Huh?” My mother blinks in confusion, then blinks again when she recalls why she came. “Oh! Um, I wanted to tell you that breakfast is ready and you are running a little behind schedule.”

“Yeah. I figured that,” I groan in agreement as I glance irritably at the clock.

Damn! I'm over seven minutes late! I am really losing it right now.

“Also . . . I wanted to tell you that I've excused Diamond Tiara from school right now. She'll be house-sitting while we're gone and looking after K-9 . . . and vice versa.”

“Really?” I ask my mother in surprise as I pull up my skirt. “You already trust her to be alone in our house that much?”

My mother looks sad as she responds, “Well I don't think she's a thief! Even if she is, that's not really my priority right now. I think the poor dear has been through enough already.”

“You took a look at her ear, right?” I check as I adjust my skirt a bit.

My mother nods. “I did last night since she insisted not to go to the hospital. I'm not a licensed physician but I do know my stuff.”

“And?” I ask her with lingering concern.

“The ear canal is swollen from what I can tell, but it does not appear she'll have any permanent damage. I gave her some antibiotics just in case her ear starts to grow an infection. I'll need to keep an eye on that for the next few days.”

A moment of silence passes between us, broken first by my mother.

“Spoiled Rich should be in jail for what she did to her!” my mother spouts in sudden anger, then softens with her next sentence, “but I can somewhat understand why Diamond doesn't want to press charges or make a big deal of this. Despite all those years of abuse, she is her mother, and she's trying to protect her.”

My mother bangs her forehead on my door twice in frustration.

“I just wish it was a two-way street!” my mother proclaims with irritation in her voice. “That is what a mother is supposed to do! She's supposed to protect her child, not abuse her! This just makes me so angry that I want to SCREAM!”

“I don't think anyone in this house would begrudge you that,” I tell my mother sympathetically. “You always did have an enormous heart. While that does make you a very sweet person, it also means you are highly emotional. That makes you quite vulnerable to the many flaws of the world.”

I see tears in my mother's eyes as she turns to look at me.

“I told Diamond that she does not have to press charges if she doesn't want to,” my mother informs me, “and I can understand why she would want to sweep this whole issue under the rug, but last night I once grabbed her and shook her by the shoulders for a brief moment because I lost my temper with her. I told her, 'You don't have to make a move against her if you don't want to, but I need you to understand something. This,' I grabbed her ear for emphasis, then went on to say, 'is not okay! This is not okay! It never should be okay. This is not what mothers are supposed to do to their precious children!'”

“How did she respond?” I ask, feeling very invested.

My mother sighs as she looks down, shrugs, then says, “Nothing. She just looked so empty, lost, hurt, and confused. I really can't blame her.”

My mother looks back at me with a discerning look. She sweeps a gaze from head to toe, to head again, then declares, “Actually, you don't seem that fine yourself. You also have that same empty look that I saw in Diamond last night.”

My mother raises her hands to her hips. When I see that, I immediately realize she made a decision as a parent. One she plans to be firm with.

“You know what, Honey, I want you to take the day off from school as well,” my mother orders me. “You don't look so good yourself. Also, considering your recent breakdown last night as well as your seizure, I don't want to run the risk of you developing other health problems today. Keep your watch on at all times, too. I want to be notified if there are any further health problems.”

“Yes, Mother,” I reply obediently in an empty tone.

My mother narrows her eyes slightly at me, most likely because she expected more resistance to her command. This just gave her more evidence that something is wrong with me today.

I can't deny it. She's right.

“I think I'll take you both to the doctors after school,” Mother decides. “Diamond might gripe and moan about it, but perhaps she won't feel as bad if another of her peers is doing the same thing. That will make her feel less singled out. Plus, you both really need it.”

“As you wish, Mother,” I reply again in an empty and listless tone.

“Besides,” my mother shrugs, “you can keep an eye on her while I'm gone,” mother says a little more brightly. “I get the feeling you can both use each other's company.”

Oh, the irony of that statement! I struggle not to roll my eyes at it.

My mother smiles brightly at me as she says, “I'm so glad you're making new friends! That's very important, you know! Friendship is magic, after all!”

I sigh as I give her a droll expression while I say, “I know, Mother. You tell me over and over again.”

“Because it's true!” Mother proclaims. “You'll see now that you are experiencing it. I've been worried about your social life for so many years. It's nice to have acquaintances too that you work with, but you really need more than just that, Honey.”

“Can we change the subject please?” I beg her in exhausted irritation. “Anyway, I'll do it if it will make you happy. I'll keep an eye on Diamond.”

“Please do more than just that,” my mother kindly requests. “Keep her company. There is a difference.

“You know, you weren't much different from her not too long ago.”

I suddenly gave her a sharp look because that comment reminds me of something.

“Mother . . . come inside and shut my door,” I request.

Caught off guard by my sudden shift in attitude, Mother nevertheless cooperates.

“I know this might seem a bit sudden, but I have to know,” I look squarely in my mother's eyes, “were my former parents abusive to me?”

Mother looks really taken aback by my question. After that, she looks remorseful. She cannot meet my eyes any longer.

“I’d, ah . . . rather discuss this later,” my mother expresses in intense discomfort.

I speak Twilightese enough to know what she really means by that statement. Whenever my mother says, “I want to discuss it later,” what she is actually saying is, “I want to discuss this never. I'm not comfortable with this subject.”

Normally I would comply, but this issue is so personal and important to me, so I decide to press her a little harder.

“Mother . . . that wasn't just a seizure I suffered last night, that was a stroke!” I tell her grimly. “I blacked out completely other than some disturbing hallucinations. Before that, I remember I panicked for some reason. Watching Diamond's mother slap her hard is what triggered it in me.”

I see my mother wince painfully. The mere mention of Spoiled slapping her daughter hard seems to injure my mother inwardly.

I press on.

“I don't know much about my parents, to be quite honest with you,” I tell her as I look down. “What little I do remember about them is squeaky clean.

“For instance, I remember this one time . . . I think I was five years old at the time . . . old enough to recognize the fact that I'm not like other kids my age. There is something different about me. Something that sets me apart.

“One day my parents took me on a picnic trip. I remember we sat on a family quilt out on the grass on a hill. There was a tree nearby that offered us shade. I remember how it gave a sizzling sound as the tree leaves blew in the wind.

“My father . . . he was laughing merrily. I remember how his hair and the edges of his skin glowed as it was backlit by the radiance of the sun.

“My mother was wearing a beautiful white Sunday dress. I remember how she picked up a dandelion stem. Both my mother and I were laying back on the blanket. She lifted and twisted the dandelion above us as she sang me, 'Twinkle-twinkle little star'.

“After she finished the song, she'd let me sit up and blow on the dandelion. I felt so happy and innocent as I watched the tiny things blow across the field. It felt like I was making a wish, except all I wished for was for that moment to continue forever.

“I got the exact opposite of my wish!”

My mother winces in pain again.

“Mother . . . I haven't felt that innocent in so long. Something dark and twisted grew inside me ever since that day, but I don't know why. At least, not consciously. I can't ignore the clues, though. Something about Diamond's treatment felt all too familiar. Why is that? Am I suppressing my memories of my early childhood? Is that why my birth parents seem too perfect?

“Come to think of it, is that also why I sometimes speak all cutesy-wootsy as well as collect dolls and other childish things late into my teenage years? Am I desperately trying to defend something that feels threatened? Am I trying to reclaim a childhood that was stolen from me?”

“I . . .” my mother began but trailed off. She looks at me for just a second but does not have the courage to maintain eye contact. Very quickly she shifts her look away.

Her look is all the confirmation I need. She knows something that she does not want to tell me because she knows the news will hurt me. She has held onto this secret for years. She never corrected me because she knew I was desperately trying to cling onto some shattered fragment of my lost innocence.

“I . . .” my mother attempts again, then shook her head, having fully lost her courage. “I don't want to discuss this right now. Let's save this discussion for another time.”

Light dims in my eyes as I slowly look down. Once again I tell her in an empty and listless way, “Sure. We'll discuss this again when you feel you are ready.”

Meaning never, but I can read between the lines. I know what she would have said if she was more courageous with me.

Without warning, my mother rushes forward to embrace me in a hug.

“No matter what you have gone through, what you have done, what you will do or go through, know that I will always be your mother . . . and that I will always love you!” my mother expresses to me with tender warmth as she continues to hug me.

I embrace her back.

Part of me wants to cry right now, but I can't. I feel too empty inside. I have neither joy nor sorrow within me.

I am hollow.
> Chapter Thirty Two: A Day with Diamond
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

I enter the living room with a nice warm cup of jasmine tea. I sit in the most comfortable lounge chair while Diamond sits on the couch to the far corner to my right (after I sit down). With a press of a button, a small table ejects itself to the side of the lounge chair, curves then brings itself over the right arm of the chair. It extends far enough to go over my left thigh.

I sit quietly while I enjoy watching Diamond Tiara squirm a bit. I give her a tiny grin as I soak up the irony. Just yesterday she was sitting on a “throne” just like this in her home theater system room. Well, now, the tables have turned. She is now on my turf, and here I am Queen!

I'm also the Queen outside of this home as well, but she doesn't know that yet!

After several minutes of silence, she asks, “So . . . what is it you're drinking there?”

“Jasmine tea,” I answer simply.

For some reason my answer surprises her. Notably, this pleasantly surprises her. It's as if she expected me to drink something less sophisticated.

When her surprise ebbs, she gains a pouty face, then asks, “Well . . . aren't you going to give me some?”

“Why should I? I'm not your maid,” I counter curtly.

“No, but I am your guest,” Diamond points out. “Plus, I fed you yesterday. I even ordered that strawberry cheesecake that you loved so much.”

“That . . . is true,” I agree with a blink. “Alright.” I push the mini table on the chair off to the side to get it out of my way. “What would you like to drink? Same thing?”

“That will do,” Diamond agrees dismissively while giving me a shoo-shoo gesture.

Seeing that irks me (especially given our history together), but she has a point about me being a hostess here, and I'm trying to win her over as Cozy Glow. Besides, I really owe her big time for the cheesecake yesterday. I ate a little slice of heaven back then!

I return a few minutes later. I offer her a cup of jasmine tea upon my return. As she accepts it, I briefly cling to the saucer at the base of the cup as I tell her, “I really do owe you for the treat you gave me yesterday.” I let go of the saucer. She is finally able to pull it close to her chest.

As I stand up straight again, I say down to her, “It may not be strawberry cheesecake, but please enjoy this small token of my gratitude.”

On my way back to the lounge chair, she asks behind me, “So . . . super genius girl likes to run the school as Student Council President, ousting me from office to pull that off.” I sit down and face her while she goes on. “You like strawberry cheesecake, strawberry milkshake, chess, you are good at the violin, and you like ninjas. These things seem rather random altogether, so tell me . . . what don't you like?”

I narrow my eyes at her slightly as I answer, “Oh, you don't want to know that.”

“I wouldn't have asked if I didn't want to know,” Diamond argues.

“Yes, but you can't handle the truth,” I warn her. “In your emotionally fragile state, I think we'll save that discussion for another time, but trust me,” I flick a point at her briefly, “I will remind you of that subject when I sense you are ready for it.”

Diamond looks pouty again. “Well, then . . . FINE! Have it your way. How about, instead of that, you tell me something else that you like.”

“Something else I like? Hmm.” I regard our sixty-inch flat-screen TV which is currently off, then say, “I like anime.”

“Really?!” Diamond asks me brightly, then went on with rising hope. “Do you watch 'Sailor Moon'?”

I look back as I wince at her while saying, “Ew! No! I can't stand that awful show!”

“Oh? Why not?” Diamond asks me in confusion mixed with disappointment. “It's a good show!”

“Says you!” I argue back.

“What's so bad about 'Sailor Moon'? It's a classic!”

I slide the table over my lap again then answer while I stir my tea. “Okay, first of all, the main character is unbearably stupid and obnoxious.”

“Eh.” Diamond looks forward with a dry expression, then shrugs. “True.” She looks back at me. “I'll give you that one, but she does get better in later seasons. You should give it another chance.”

I sigh irritably, then say with a dismissive gesture to her, “I'll take your word for it. I don't need proof.

“Secondly, the show is too repetitive. I mean, what are Queen Beryl’s monsters doing while Sailor Moon is transforming? Giving their claws a manicure?”

In response, Diamond giggles at me a bit.

“And the fights all end the same way. Sailor Moon just ends up tossing her stupid tiara over and over again, and it pretty much always one-shots her opponent. Well, if that weapon is sooooo darn effective, why waste the audience's time dinking around and acting like a total moron? She should just toss the damn tiara and get the fight over with!”

“Hey! Don't dis the tiara! That's my favorite part of the show!”

I roll my eyes drolly as I said, “You would.”

“What's that supposed to mean?” Diamond asks me in an offended tone.

“I'm sure a fan of that 'brilliant' show would be able to figure that out,” I reply with a snarky tone.

Diamond growls.

“You know, if I were one of Queen Beryl's monsters, I'd just rip out a gun and shoot Usagi in her stupid little face while she's in the middle of bragging about how much she is going to 'punish' me, although I must admit that I am a little intrigued how kinky that line sounds.”

“Okay, FINE!” Diamond says in huffy frustration. “You don't like 'Sailor Moon', and yet you like anime. What kind of anime?”

I sigh a bit as I look at her, then say, “Considering the fact that I just rejected 'Sailor Moon', you may consider it ironic that I like romance anime, but it also has to be intellectually stimulating, or at least not insult my intelligence. There are plenty of anime out there that do this. I am still able to figure out the plot or details way ahead of the characters in the show, but I still like it when some characters in anime discuss complex strategies with each other, even going so far as to show charts and graphs to illustrate their point.”

I look forward at nothing.

“Another thing I like about anime is how much they are willing to showcase female protagonists and/or antagonists.” I look back at Diamond. “I'm willing to give 'Sailor Moon' credit for that one at least, but that's not enough to make up for the show's massive shortcomings.

“Nevertheless, I respect shows like this for finally giving us females some overdue respect. For too long we were regarded as the weaker sex but now people are at least willing to fantasize about how much we can kick just as much ass as the guys.

“I love it when a female takes the center stage and doesn't surrender her destiny to anyone else. Every time I see that, I inwardly cheer, 'You go, girl!'”

Diamond smiles at me pleasantly. That strongly implies to me that she also agrees with some of the things I am saying, especially my recent declarations.

“And yes,” I wave her off, “I'm perfectly aware how sexist the medium tends to be when portraying female characters. By judging all animes as a whole, one would think females tend to have an allergic reaction to clothes or something, and I don't appreciate the double standard about how much the guys cocks in these shows are not flashed, and yet the shows have no qualms about showing our bouncing breasts all the time.”

“Over half of them aren't even realistic,” Diamond agrees as she lifts up her tea near her lips. “Seriously, if girls like that really existed, their back pain must be a nightmare!”

“I know, right?!” I agree with a rising inflection while she sips her tea. “We get it because we have to live as those kinds of characters instead of fantasizing what it's like.”

Diamond grins at me. “Speaking of which, I really like those animes that portray guys turning into girls. I love how their face grows hot and they shoot blood out their noses so much that, if it really happened in real life, they'd probably have to go to the hospital.

“I like those kinds of shows because it kind of feels like revenge to me. Also, I like the idea of how they can chase their own skirts for a change instead of bothering us all the time.”

I shrug. “I don't know. Some females want to be caught, and there's nothing wrong with that. We can do whatever we want to do. It's a brand 'spanking' new world out there.

“Oh, and . . . I agree. The kind of animes you proposed has an interesting sociological dynamic to it. I also love animes that are willing to dig into complex psychology. I don't care how ridiculous it gets. As long as the shows mix things up a bit, I'm good.”

Diamond flashes me an evil grin as she says, “I can think of another reason why you might not appreciate seeing bouncing breasts in anime. Realistic or not, it probably feels like a sharp slap in your face which simply reminds you of what you lack.”

I frown at her and cover my chest with my right arm self-consciously.

Damn it, Little Miss Prissy, that one actually struck a nerve!

“I'm still growing,” I argue like a sore child. “I may be blooming on the slow side but I'll get there someday.”

“Nah, you're fine just the way you are,” Diamond tells me with a flicking gesture towards me. “It means you won't develop some of the back problems that most of us do.”

I gather my tea near my lips, but don't sip yet as I say, “Well, be that as it may, I am still a girl so I do care about my appearance, including elements beyond my control. I hate how shallow that makes me sound, but it's the truth. It's also true that society heavily judges us based on how we appear. Girls and guys do that to us alike. Probably especially the girls, and I don't like to feel like I'm at a disadvantage. I have big plans for the future, so I want to be as prepared for it as possible.”

Diamond sighs as she looks down. “Yeah, I know what you mean. We may not like to admit it, but we definitely feel very self-conscious about our appearance.”

I am tempted to bring up the subject about her secret “purging” in the girl's bathroom, but then I recall the fact that it is a secret so far. I shouldn't bring up the subject first. That would be too suspicious.

Our conversation continues for about another twenty minutes. During that time, we finish our tea. By the end of that time, it seems as if our conversation draws to a close, at least for now.

We have actually known each other for quite some time. I, especially, have studied her for quite a number of years. Today, however, is the first time we tested the waters with each other on a social level. Overall, I'd say we don't quite have a comfortable feel for each other yet.

Most likely, however, she would be startled to discover how much I have learned about her during this conversation.

After two minutes of silence, Diamond sighs, then declares, “I'm bored.”

I frown slightly as I say, “Well, I'm sorry I couldn't be a more entertaining host. Personally, I thought our conversation was quite illuminating.”

“Oh, you're fine!” Diamond quickly puts it. “You've mostly done a fantastic job, but I want to do something more engaging. Something more challenging than simply discussing anime.”

“Such as?”

Diamond grins and slightly narrows her eyes at me as she proposes, “I'd like to play chess with you.” She waves me off. “I'm well aware that you are a national champion, so you surely must have the game here somewhere, at least in digital format. Someone like you, who is that passionate about the game, would very likely have the real deal as well. By that, I mean the solid, authentic pieces.”

“Well, you're not wrong there,” I concur. “However, it does not seem likely that you are fully aware of the challenge you are proposing upon yourself. I don't coddle my opponents unless I'm trying to teach them. If you are interested in those lessons, I charge sixty bits an hour. Normally I wouldn't think that would be a big deal for you but I am well aware of your recent change in financial status.”

“Sixty bits an hour?” Diamond double-checks with an upraised eyebrow. “Are you sure you are worth it?”

“Do you want to see my trophies? Mom keeps a collection of them all nice and shiny. They are displayed along with my music awards.”

I look at, then brush, a few wrinkles out of my dress before looking back and resuming talking to her.

“Considering the caliber of skill I can offer, I'd say sixty bits an hour is actually quite the bargain. I've known chess masters with half my skill charging ten times that amount for their lessons.”

“Put up or shut up!” Diamond dares me. “Prove to me that you are worth that kind of cash for training. I challenge you to a game of chess!”

“A glutton for punishment, are we?” I ask in amusement as I raise an eyebrow and smirk at her.

Diamond passes me a coy and cocky smile as she says, “Oh . . . I don't know. You might not find me quite the pushover that you think I am. I have been trained by some of the finest chess masters that money can buy.”

“They aren't me. Don't rope me in with those amateurs.”

Diamond squints at me as she says, “Those 'amateurs', as you call them, are some of the finest chess players in the world.”

“If that's true, I'd love to play against them,” I express with interest. “Maybe they can finally give me a decent challenge in the game.

“There is a thirty-one percent chance that I already have faced at least one of those you are referring to, and I have only lost four games in my entire lifetime. True, one of the persons I’m talking about did beat me one of those four times, but I never lost a game against him since that time.”

“Okay, you see, the problem with you right now is your mouth is going like this,” Diamond says as she makes a yap-yap gesture with one hand, “but you have proven nothing to me so far. I've challenged you to a chess game. The next move is yours.” She narrows her eyes further at me. “Are you in, or are you out?”

I sigh at her, then ask, “Do you really want to do this?”

“Consider it my very first lesson from you!” Diamond proposes enthusiastically. “Or, perhaps, it will be the other way around.”

“Very well.” I rise from my seat and tug once at my single piece dress. While I do so, I gather my composure. After that, I leave the room without further word. I go to a closet that is dedicated to all kinds of board games (most of these are gifts from several of my mother's friends). From there, I pull out an old wooden chessboard. It is five inches tall and has a drawer on the side of it where the white and dark brown chess pieces are stored.

It is true that I have a specialized chessboard that I have stored in my room, but I consider that board very sacred. There are only a few players in the world that have ever faced me over that board. My mother is among them, the person who originally bought me that board.

But Diamond is clearly unworthy of such an honor. She'll need to earn it first, so I bring out the old chessboard from the game closet instead.

I retrieve a small, wooden folding table from behind the couch. I set the chessboard on the couch for a moment while I prepare the table. To do that, first I lift the table into an upside-down L pattern. At first, both pairs of legs are on one side until I slide one of them to the other end of the table in an X pattern with the table on top of the X. I set the table in front of my lounge chair. I was going to leave to retrieve one of our folding chairs, but it turns out Diamond already found one of them and set it up on the other side of our folding table.

That's fine. Less work for me. 

As we settle down across from each other, it takes us a little less than a minute to set up the board, then we're ready to play.

“Do you want to be white, or black?” Diamond offers me. “Or . . . dark brown, I suppose I should say.”

“It ultimately doesn't matter to me, but I prefer to play black. It's an aesthetic as well as a strategic choice,” I tell her. “I'll let you go first but, in exchange, I'll go last.”

“Cocky, are we?” Diamond asks me with a smirk.

“Yes, 'we' are,” I agree. I settle back into my seat, but not far enough to be beyond reach of the board with my right arm. Using my left, I prop up my head using my pointing finger and thumb in an L pattern. I use my thumb to gently lift the bottom edge of my left jaw and settle my pointing finger up my left cheek. I hold this pose as I stare straight into her eyes.

“I would like to make one amendment to the rules for this game, however,” I propose. “As I said, I don't coddle my opponents or hold back unless I'm training them. As such, I will not warn you by announcing 'check' all the time when your king is in danger. Instead of that, it is up to you to protect your own king. Conversely, you may do the same for me. Agreed?”

Diamond thinks about it for a second, then asks me, “Is that how they do it at the championships?”

I shrug as I say, “Some of them, yeah. We're professional players. We don't need to warn each other all the time. For us, it is unnecessary and generally slows down the game anyway.”

“Eh.” Diamond copies my shrug, then says, “I can live with that.”

“Very well. Your move.”

“Very well.” Diamond examines the chess pieces, seems to do a little calculation of her own, then makes a move.

Meanwhile I am just staring straight at her, not at the board itself, nor the pieces. I can see, based from her shoulder movement and tiny micro-expressions on her face, where she moved her piece. Based on that, I rapidly calculate the rest of our game.

The moment her fingers lift from the pawn she advances forward; I immediately make my move. She has not even fully settled back into her seat yet and it's already her turn again.

She is still surveying the board. I see her pause as she tries to predict what my moves are going to be based on the two moves we made already.

Oh, Little Miss Prissy . . . you'll soon learn you're now swimming in a tank with a shark. Chess is my arena! I think in terms of the game for nearly my entire life. It's my freakin’ cutie mark, for Christ sake. You are way out of your league here.

The game continues as I have planned. About fifteen moves into the game, however, Diamond finally notices that I have never once looked at the chessboard. I've been giving her a fixed stare into her eyes the whole time. It's starting to unnerve her.

Check.

She is also noticing how I am instantly making a move every single time she completes her turn. Her fingers barely leave her chess pieces when I already make my move. It gives her further evidence that I already correctly predict her moves every single time and I've planned way ahead of them.

Diamond tries to concentrate on the game but she keeps glancing up at me. She looks at my fixed, icy stare. Unmoving, and seemingly unblinking.

There is a brief moment when she almost makes a comment on it, but she shuts her mouth before uttering a word. She tries to regather her composure and resumes focus on the game. By then, she knows I'm pressing a psychological tactic against her, but that does not help explain to her how I am able to read her moves without glancing at the board even once.

Little does she realize that I don't have to. A chessboard is constantly in my mind. Whenever she makes a move on the real chessboard, I see a virtual copy of it in my mind. Not only that, I rapidly calculate ahead of that move to every probability that she will make. With each move she makes, she narrows down the logical list of possible choices. Strategy after strategy is layered in my mind which is based on the choices she makes.

Eventually, though, her nerves crumble again. She looks back at me as she realizes that we are forty moves into the game and I have never once looked away from her. My icy stare continues to chill her soul. By then, she is starting to wonder if I can directly read her mind. The moment she starts to think that, I finally change my expression just slightly. I give her a creepy grin worthy of Hannibal Lecter. When she sees that, I see her shudder.

“Will you stop that?!” Diamond asks me in rising frustration.

“Stop what?” I ask her in a cutesy, innocent tone.

“You know! That!” She seems to gesture to all of me. “Stop staring at me and just play the damn game!”

“I am playing the game!” I argue in a suddenly sinister tone. “Your move!”

“But-”

“Your move!” I firmly remind her.

Diamond growls in frustration, then proceeds to do exactly what I have calculated at this stage of her devolving psychological development. After seemingly being able to read her mind this entire time, she starts to make stupid moves on purpose in a vain attempt to be unpredictable.

We are only three moves into this new and reckless strategy when I, without warning, pull out my cellphone and take a picture of the board, but I still do not look away or appear to blink to her.

The truth is I do blink on occasion, but only when she isn't looking at me.

“What was that for?” Diamond asks me, perplexed. That was the first time I did not instantly make a move after her, after all. I only made my move after I put my phone back down.

“Your move,” I remind her firmly.

Diamond growls, then she continues the game.

She continues to make reckless and stupid moves just to throw me off track, but I have planned on it. I continue to perfectly see not only where the chess pieces are right now, but where they will be soon.

Sweat pours down her forehead. Her hands are shaking slightly as she reaches for her chess pieces. Only when I see her nearly cracked do I finally make another move she does not expect or welcome.

As she reaches forward to make yet another stupid move, I slap her hand away from the chessboard. She nearly complains in a startled way but the very same hand that slapped hers away lifts my pointing finger to signal for her attention.

Then, to her amazement and horror, I reach for her chess piece. The very one she was going to reach for. Once I have it, I move it exactly where she had planned to move it just to prove to her that I predicted her moves perfectly.

She looks to my face as she gasps in horror.

While she does that, I secretly grab her King and hide it down my sleeve with a deftness that secretly would have impressed Trixie, though I doubt she'd ever admit it openly.

After that, I lift my right arm off the table to get it out of the way so Diamond can make her next move unhindered.

She does exactly what I predicted would happen next. She sweeps an arm across the chessboard to wipe away the remaining chess pieces from the board.

“There! Did you predict-” we say simultaneously, but she freezes in fear when she realizes I predicted her well enough to say what she said right as she is saying it.

“-that.” I finish her sentence for her. After that, I twist my right wrist in a circle. From that move, I produce her King chess piece, then say, “Yes, I did. In fact, this was my plan from the very beginning.”

I stab her king chess piece exactly where she had it before she swept her arm across the board. In this case, it's D4, pretty much the center of the board. After placing her piece on the board, I place my right pointing finger on top of her king piece.

“By sweeping the pieces off the board during your turn, you forfeit the match,” I coldly inform her. “Ergo, I win.

“I play my opponent, not just the chess pieces themselves. A good strategist always factors in every variable of the game, including the most important piece of the game.” I nod at her to indicate her.

I smile at her smugly just before I announce, “You know, I could have beaten you during your forty-ninth move. That is why I took a picture of the game board during that time. I knew you were going to sweep the pieces off it later, and the pieces would be in different places by then anyway. I just wanted to preserve a copy of the game during that turn so I could verify my claim if you chose to challenge it. By putting so much emphasis in protecting your rook, you left your king exposed.”

Diamond growls at me in frustration, then asks, “If that's true, why didn't you finish me off back then?”

“Because I knew it would be more humiliating for you to defeat yourself,” I say with a vicious smile. “My aim was not just to defeat your mind, but your emotions as well. Once I provoked you back into a corner,” I flick her king chess piece. It falls on the table and rolls away. “double checkmate. By crushing both your mind and emotions, I more firmly assert my dominance over you.”

“FINE!” Diamond cries out at me. Then, when she leans back, she does much more than just pout. She looks absolutely devastated.

“You made your point,” Diamond says as her face wrinkles in pain. “You've proven how absolutely stupid I am. Are you happy now?”

Eh. Kind of.

“It's true that challenging me wasn't one of your most brilliant strategies,” I partially agree. While I say that, I lift up one of my dark brown rook pieces and tumble it back and forth along the fingers of my left hand. “but, to be fair, nearly everyone would seem like an idiot if they are compared to me. My towering intellect so vastly overshadows the rest of humanity that humanity seems more akin to the average human intelligence compared to a basic animal to me.”

Diamond gains a pouty face as she asks, “So . . . I guess that means the rest of us must seem like boring simpletons to you, huh?”

“For the most part, yes,” I agree with a shrug.

Since I am aware that Diamond was being sarcastic with her last question, I am not really wondering why she looks shocked at my response.

“What? I'm just stating a fact. Do you want me to lie?” I ask her.

Diamond narrows her eyes at me as she asks, “So then . . . I guess you know everything.”

I smile at her deviously as I say, “I'll let you in on a little secret.”

I toss the rook I've been tumbling on my left hand upward then snatch it as it descends back to the level of my left hand without even looking at it.

“The secret of being a genius, at least in my opinion, is the ability to be smart enough to deceive everyone else into thinking that my kind knows all the answers. In truth, however, we are just as lost and confused as the rest of humanity. The only difference is we're stumbling and struggling with higher-level challenges.

“If I really knew all the answers then I wouldn't even be here on this miserable planet. There would be no reason for me to be born in the first place.”

“Guess it must get pretty lonely at the top where you are, huh?” Diamond surmises a bit sympathetically.

“There are a few exceptions, of course,” I amend. “My mother, for one, has a respectable intellect. I surpass her in most respects but there are some things she can do much better than me. Inventions, for example.” I indicate around me with a finger. “I'm sure I could become as good, if not better, at her in this but I'd nearly have to start from scratch. She's way more passionate about this than I am, and I have bigger fish to fry.”

You, for example!

Diamond drops her gaze with a painful expression. “So . . . all this time you were just trying to flaunt how superior you are. Well, congratulations! You won! You succeeded in proving your dominance over me. You succeeded to reveal how utterly stupid I actually am!

“So my mother was right. I am a loser! I'm a stupid, fat, ugly, good-for-nothing, worthless piece of trash better left rotting in the gutter. I'm not worthy of your attention, nor anyone else’s! I should just take a knife and slit my wrist and-”

I interrupt her train of thought by boldly standing up and slapping her hard on her left cheek using my right hand.

In response, she gazes up at me in shock.

“Golly! I'm so sorry, Diamond Tiara!” I apologize in an obviously overly cute way. “I was not trying to aim at you, I was trying to aim at your mother within you! You,” I flick a point at her, “simply got in my way!”

She continues to stare up at me in shock.

I inwardly groan in annoyance. It feels so irritating to have to babysit Diamond Tiara like this. I am quickly growing so sick and tired of coddling my fucking nemesis!

I really can't watch her twenty-four/seven either, nor would I like to. Her potentially genuine threat of killing herself is quickly growing tiresome. I really need to deal with this once and for all if I'm going to advance forward with the rest of my plans for her.

It's time for a change in strategy!

“Come with me,” I order her as I start to make my way to my room. I pause at the hallway since I notice, by virtue of hearing alone, that she's not following me yet. Without looking back at her, I cry out in a firm, demanding voice, “NOW, Tiara!”

The volume of my demanding roar startles her out of her stupor. She quietly stands up to obey. She is far too broken to feel like putting up any resistance to my demands.

God fucking damn it! I really despise you, Little Miss Prissy! You're forcing me to play the role of the “hero” for you just so that I can set you up for a greater downfall later. How utterly annoying!





* * *





While Little Miss Prissy meekly sits on my bed behind me, I upload the video footage of her mother into my computer. Specifically, I have my voice synthesis software scan her voice so it can make a decent approximation.

It is true that I do have a decent amount of footage, but scanning a human voice from another recording delays the process.

While my program scans and uploads the voice into my computer's ram, I occasionally look back at Diamond.

For the most part, she looks so broken in spirit, but I notice her looking around once in a while with interest in her eyes. It is then that it occurs to me that this is the first time she has ever seen my room.

This experience shows her more than I had ever originally intended to reveal to her. I did not want to gamble on the chance that this glimpse into my psyche might start helping her predict me more often. Besides, I suspect most would consider the decorations of my room surprisingly immature, and probably in a bad way. I think fewer people would take me seriously if they saw all my cutesy stuff.

But then again, I do put on a cutesy air for others on occasion.

For the most part, I tend to do that to those older people or those with more authority than me because I want them to underestimate me. I want those above me to think that they are in charge while I am secretly pulling the strings from the shadows.

To my peers or subordinates, however, I am more about firm authority because I want their respect and obedience. I don't think I'd get either if they all thought I am some immature child.

Diamond Tiara is both my peer and subordinate in separate regards, so she is one of those to whom I did not want to reveal what my room looks like. It might give her the wrong impression.

Or the right impression. I honestly don't know which scenario is worse.

I hear a beep on my computer. That means the program is finished uploading Spoiled’s voice into the synthesis program of my computer's memory banks. It's now time to use it.

I take a screenshot of Spoiled Rich's face from my video footage then bring that up. This particular shot is during the time she approached down the hallway of the mansion. I borrow this shot because it's one of the few times my camera is more directly facing towards her. I take that shot and zoom up to it so it mainly shows the upper part of her chest, shoulders, neck, face, and top of her head. I digitally edit her eyes slightly so it looks like she is looking straight at the camera rather than just below it.

When I am done with this, I minimize the picture then turn around in my computer chair to face Diamond Tiara.

“I'm going to be honest with you for a moment,” I tell her honestly. “I am growing so sick of this annoying attitude, especially when you make death threats against your life. I wish I could take that as a joke, but Sweetie Belle warned me that you made an actual attempt against your life, so I am forced to take those threats seriously.” I pound the right arm of my computer chair with my right fist. “No subordinate of mine should be this weak, so it's time to confront your demon once and for all. I can't be there to babysit you all the time, after all, and I've got better things to do with my life.”

“Of course you do,” Diamond agrees in an empty tone. “Everyone has better things to do than take care of me. I'm a worthless piece of crap.”

“No, you are not,” I reject. “Damn it, Tiara, look at me!” She does so. “You are not a piece of crap,” I lie. “But if you want to see what a real piece of crap looks like, then I'll gladly show you!”

I scoot my chair out of the way so she has a direct line of sight to my computer screen. I also unplug my keyboard with a built-in touch pad. Doing so forces the device to communicate to my computer wirelessly (which means it is now running on an internal battery, but there is plenty of charge in it).

On my computer screen, I call up the minimized image of her mother. In the background, I also load the voice synthesis program. After that, I type up a sentence I want her voice to say.

“Diamond Tiara!” we hear the synthesized voice of Spoiled Rich call aloud from my computer. This greatly startles my guest. “Why are you making that face! That is not the face of a winner!”

“What the-!” Diamond cries out, startled. She looks over at me but I've already started typing a response to that, for I correctly predicted she would look at me in confusion, begging for an explanation.

“Don't look at her!” Spoiled Rich's voice seems to demand. “She is the enemy, Diamond Tiara! Instead of her, you look at me when I talk to you!”

“Yes, Mother!” Diamond cries out reflexively. I roll my eyes at this. She is so well trained and beaten that she can't help but regard a mere picture of her mother meekly.

“I can't believe how much you disappoint me!” Spoiled’s voice seems to say in disgust. “My daughter, of all people, hanging out with her kind! Staying in her home and her room! How low do you want my expectations of you to sink, Diamond Tiara?!”

Diamond cannot even meet the mere image of her mother in the eyes anymore.

But, as her gaze drifts away, I have her mother say, “I already told you, you look at me when I talk to you!”

“Yes, Mother!” Diamond replies meekly and looks back at the image.

Gods! This is pathetic! I can't believe she is struggling to meet the mere image of her mother in the eyes!

I suppose this is a little too familiar. Maybe I should throw Diamond a bone to help build her confidence a little, and we can have a little fun revenge at the same time.

“I pooped my pants, Diamond Tiara!” Spoiled says while maintaining her authoritative voice that’s mixed with disgust.

“Huh?” Diamond cocks her head at the image of her mother. It is her mother's voice, or at least seems to be, but what I made her say is so far out of character that it took Diamond aback.

“YOU HEARD ME, YOUNG LADY!” fake Spoiled screeches. “It's all brown and squishy.”

Diamond blinks at my computer screen numbly. Her brain, apparently, does not know how to process this new information yet. This goes against too much of her experience to openly accept this.

“I have a stupid face, Diamond Tiara!” I force the voice to say.

Diamond cracks a giggle as she looks over to me, finally realizing who is making her “mother” say these things.

In response, I wink at her.

“I paid big money to have this rhinoplasty,” I make the voice say.

“It's, um . . .” Diamond begins to say but trails off.

I silently twist my right wrist over at Diamond to give an encouraging gesture. When she sees it, I follow that up by shaking my fist at Diamond, thus silently encouraging her to stand up to her apparent mother and “hit” her back, in a way.

“What was that?!” Spoiled seems to say in a demanding tone. “Speak up, young lady.”

“I, um . . . I do think you have a stupid nose,” Diamond agrees. “In fact, I think your whole face is stupid!”

“WHAT DID YOU SAY TO ME?!” I have Spoiled cry in outrage. “How DARE you speak to me that way! I made you, Diamond Tiara, and I can break you just as easily!”

“No, you CAN'T!” Diamond cries out as she shoots up to boldly stand at the foot of my bed.

I hide a proud smile.

Atta girl, Diamond Tiara! Give her hell!

“You insolent WRETCH!” I force Spoiled to say. “You stupid cunt! You whore! You-”

“ENOUGH, MOTHER!” Diamond cries in outrage. I pause the playback of my program to pretend it is responding to Diamond's interruption. I also erase the rest of what Spoiled would have said. I replace it with nothing for a moment to simulate stunned silence, thus giving Diamond more of a chance to talk. I wait to see if she takes the bait.

“I am DONE with you, Mother!” Diamond cries out at her image. “You raised me to be like a high-horse all of my life! You yelled at me, called me names, and tried your best to tarnish this beautiful diamond inside of me, but guess what! A diamond is one the hardest, most beautiful, and precious gems in the world! You cannot break me any further, Mother! I WON'T LET YOU!”

Diamond approaches to glare closer to my computer screen. During this time, she also crosses her arms in defiance.

“You think you can just buy everything you ever want in this world, but I know now that there are some things in this world more precious than all the money in the world, and it's something you will never be able to afford . . . FRIENDS!”

I now regard Diamond in a little awe.

“You may have brought me to this world, Mother, but that does not mean that you own me, nor could you EVER afford me!” Diamond goes on. “I'm far too precious for your black, bankrupt heart, so you go to Hell, Mother! You go to Hell and you die! I'm done with you!”

She reaches forward to turn off my computer screen, then stands up straight again and continues to glare at the screen.

I stare at her in stunned silence for a further ten seconds before quietly setting aside my keyboard then giving her an applause.

But I blink, startled, when she suddenly belts out a shrill scream for four straight seconds, then says, “Oh GOD, that felt so good!”

“I figured you needed to get that off your chest,” I say to her. “I think you needed to say that almost all of your life.”

“Cozy, stand up!” Diamond commands me while looking at me firmly.

Huh? This is intriguing. I wonder what she is up to, but already I calculate several possible scenarios.

Since the very hostile possibilities have such a minimal chance, I cooperate. Once I do, Diamond proceeds to do the thing I calculated a seventy-three percent chance of.

She hugs me. She squeezes me dearly while also crying on my shoulder.

“Thank you!” Diamond cries at me gratefully after nearly a minute on my shoulder. “I never knew how badly I needed that!”

Although a strong part of me still feels awkward and disgusted, I reach up her back and squeeze her back.

You're welcome, Little Miss Pain In My Ass! At least now I know you can start to recover.

Which brings me another step closer to my ultimate revenge!
> Chapter Thirty Three: Heart to Heart with Mother
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

After Sweetie Belle, Scootaloo, and Silver Spoon got out of school that day, they headed over to my house to pick up Diamond and me. Apple Bloom also joins the party since she is curious what is going on.

    Once we are together, we head out to the mall to do some clothes shopping for Diamond. My mother had handed me some money for this purpose. Despite this, it is Silver Spoon that ends up donating the lion's share of the shopping budget.

    At the mall, while I wait for Diamond to try on a new outfit, Sweetie Belle shows me her phone while mentioning that her sister, Rarity, is a little insulted that Sweetie did not immediately come to her for clothes shopping. The text message from Rarity also promises a very generous deal if we switch to her.

    After reading Rarity's text sent to Sweetie, I realize the same thing that Sweetie also notices. We both read between the lines of Rarity's text. It is enough to realize that Rarity is most likely aware of Diamond Tiara's dire straits. My mother is the most likely suspect who tipped Rarity off to that fact.

    Sweetie Belle asks me for advice about what to do about the text, especially since we haven't purchased anything yet. I tell Sweetie we can continue with the shopping for today. Rarity's offer is likely to remain on the table for a while to come. We can probably raise more funds later on. By then, Rarity's offer stood a good chance to steadily become more generous as time goes on.

    For the most part, Sweetie agrees with me, except she adds there tends to be a different kind of price for her sister's generous offer. Sweetie says that her sisters' clothes tend to be of high quality and, above all, very fashionable. But, as an artist, she also has a tendency to experiment. Those who agree to her “generous” offer may be used as a guinea pig for a while. Sweetie adds that her sister can get pretty invasive with her measurements. The subject would likely also spend many hours dressing and redressing from one outfit to another until Rarity finds one that is “perfect”.

    I ask Sweetie what is wrong with that. Perfection, after all, I see as a noble goal.

    Again, Sweetie partially agrees with me, but also says that Diamond has suffered a great deal of stress recently. A day with Rarity, especially when it comes to anything related to fashion, is likely to be an exciting and/or stressful day. Sweetie believes that a casual day with friends while Diamond does things at her own pace might be better for the moment.

    After listening and weighing what Sweetie told me, I remind her that we do not have to change our plans for this particular day. Later on, we can also extend Rarity's offer to Diamond and let her decide when she is ready. In the long run, Rarity’s ultra generous deals combined with super high quality is likely to pull us into her shop eventually.

    Sweetie mulls over my rebuttal, then smiles while nodding enthusiastically. She tells me that she agrees.

    We spend a solid four hours shopping for clothes at several different stores. In the end, Diamond settles on twenty different outfits, and I know that is just the beginning. We may have exhausted most of our daily budget on this one activity, but I figure we'll be back before too long.

    We also ate at the mall at two different times of the day and two different places, or three if I count the lemonade stand.

    While we ate our meal the first time, the group decided to fill Apple Bloom in more fully about recent developments with Diamond Tiara's permission.

    Apple Bloom feels much better to be included in the loop about what is going on. She says that she's glad that Sweetie finally confessed what has been bothering her lately. Apple Bloom grows alarmed to notice how serious the situation is and was. Upon conclusion of the recap, Apple Bloom felt as much sympathy for Diamond as she felt anger to Spoiled Rich.

    Apple Bloom also practically insisted that Diamond, Silver, and I join the Cutie Mark Crusaders. Sweetie Belle excitedly reports to Apple Bloom that we basically already agreed to that, but Silver Spoon follows up that report with a question of her own. Silver asks, as a new potential member of the Crusaders, just what do Cutie Mark Crusaders do as a club?

    Apple Bloom, Sweetie Belle, and Scootaloo all took turns answering that question.

    As an outside observer to this situation, it is eerie to watch them finish each other's sentences as smoothly as they do, or sometimes say the same thing simultaneously. It seems as if, when they are together, they share a close wavelength so strongly that I start to suspect they have a sort of hive mind syndrome.

    Anyway, the short version of their explanation is the Cutie Mark Crusaders pretty much do whatever they want to do, which they mostly do together as friends. They say they dabble from activity to activity. Sometimes they take requests, sort of like mercenaries. They also tell us (the newly indoctrinated members of the Crusade, that is), that the most important rule of the club is to have fun together.

    After hearing a fuller explanation, Diamond tells the original members of the CMC that they are really lucky. After saying that, Diamond laments her past bullying activities against many others and the Crusaders in particular. Diamond adds that if she was fully aware of what the Crusaders do before, and if her mother's pressure wasn't on her back, she might have joined the club a long time ago.

    Apple Bloom waves Diamond off and tells her the past is in the past. Instead, the present and future is what she recommends looking towards. Current trends make it seem likely that their future together will be so much brighter than their past. Apple Bloom recommends letting bygones be bygones and, instead, work together to create a happy and friendly future.

    Everyone agrees to that plan, even me.

    Diamond seems especially desperate to agree with that plan. Not only does she feel guilty for all of her past sins, but she is overwhelmed with gratitude in what they are providing for her right now, especially the emotional support. Diamond admits that she feels very weak inside, but adds that their support could quickly help her to change that. She also says that this is what she really wanted all along. To be happy and enjoy herself with friends.

    As Diamond says that, I secretly flash her a cold glare. That all sounds well and good to me, but I feel very irked that Diamond regrets her past sins now after she devastated my life so long ago, and I still haven't heard her apologize to me for that.

    The more I study her, the more I realize that Diamond isn't even aware that she ever wronged me.

    But that's okay. I'll remind her one day.

    If you think you are sorry now, oh boy! Just you wait, Little Miss Prissy!

    By the end of the day, we finish up with each other. After that, Diamond and I are delivered back to my home. By then, my feet are killing me! I feel so much better when I finally kick off my shoes. I feel better still when I sink into a warm bubble bath. My eyes practically roll up my skull in pleasure as my aching muscles soak in the warmth of the water.

    Within about twenty minutes of this, I grow so relaxed that I think I almost fell asleep until I hear a knock on the door.

    “Cozy? May I come in?” my mother asks me kindly from the other side of the door.

    “Um,” I sit up a bit as I pull at the shower curtains to surround most of the bathtub. The only part of me now exposed is my head, shoulders, and arms hanging off the sides of the tub. After that, I gladly say, “Sure. Come in.”

    “Thank you.”

    My mother enters the bathroom. She makes her way to the toilet next to the tub. From there she sits down, then she smiles at me.

    “I'm so proud of you, Cozy!”

    I look at her with a little confusion. “For what?”

    “For taking care of Diamond today for me,” my mother answers. “Both here at home and while you were shopping with her today at the mall. She emotionally sounds much better now. I don't know exactly what you did, but please continue! Whatever it is, it's working!”

    You'll choke on those words someday, Mother.

    “Sure, no problem,” I lie to my mother. “I just did what you would have done in my place. Also, I kind of sympathize with her.”

    “Because of your past,” my mother realizes with a lamenting expression. “Are you starting to remember more about your past?”

    “Only small bits and pieces,” I tell her honestly. “Most of it occurred to me while I collapsed in Diamond's bedroom, but I think those memories are twisted into something nightmarish and unrealistic. I had a nightmare about a former stallion from Horse-Land made of black smoke. He had red glowing eyes and wispy, purple trail coming from his eyes.” My expression to my mother turns curious. “Any of this ring a bell?”

    My mother shrugs and shakes her head as she says, “No, but I'm not from Equestria.”

    “True,” I agree as I look forward at nothing while sinking a little deeper into my bubble bath. “I just thought I'd ask anyway, just in case.”

    “It probably was just a dream,” my mother figures. “I doubt it means anything. Still, if this stallion continues to give you problems, I can run a battery of tests on you just to rule out . . . um . . . unusual possibilities. The way my life has gone sometimes, I don’t think there is such a thing as being too careful.”

    I close my eyes as I shake my head. “No, but thanks for the offer.” I sigh, then say, “I wonder if Sunny could have offered me more information about this stallion, but then again, like you said, it may have just been a wacky dream.”

    “Is it a reoccurring dream?” my mother asks me with worry.

    “Don't worry, Mother.” I look at her warmly then reach a dripping wet hand out to her that also has some soap bubbles on it. She reaches back to my hand. We squeeze each other's hand affectionately.

    “I'm not a little girl anymore,” I tell her. “I can handle my own problems. Besides, I've always been intellectually more mature for my age.”

    “And emotionally less so,” my mother expresses with lingering worry. “I fear that your former upbringing may have stunted your growth psychologically.”

    “If that's true, then I'll handle it,” I assure her. “I'll be fine.”

    “Not on your own, I fear.

    “Honey, you do know it's okay to rely upon others too, don't you? I know you are strong, smart, brave, kind, loyal . . . all kinds of stuff.” I notice how she did not add honesty. “But what is it going to take to prove to you that we are strong enough to support you too? I'm here for you, Honey. You know you can tell me anything.”

    I am growing a little suspicious of her. Is she fishing for something specific?

    “Huh. Funny. Sunny said the same thing to me a few months ago,” I recall.

    “And I'm sure she meant it,” my mother assures.

    “No doubt she did.”

    “So do you believe it?” my mother presses. “Do you believe we are willing and able to help you?”

    “Yes to both questions, but it's unnecessary. You don't have an ordinary daughter under your care. I'm a special case. Instead, it is I who can help you guys out. I've done that so many times.”

    “Yes, I know, and I'm proud of you for that too.”

    My mother scoots closer, now sitting on her knees next to the bathtub beside me. Using the hand that is still free, she reaches towards my face and strokes it tenderly. I close my eyes and give a pleasant sigh. I even lean into her touch a bit.

    God, I love her so much!

    “I love you so much!” my mother echoes my thoughts, unbeknownst to her. “My special little girl!”

    I squint my eyes open at her just a crack. My gaze to her is blurred with happy, loving tears.

    My mother squeezes my hand again.

    I calculate high odds that she is going to keep pressing her point until I give her a satisfactory answer.

    “I just want to make sure you know that you can rely upon us too,” my mother presses me softly.

    “I do know that,” I promise her. “And I have relied upon you all many times. Sometimes it is in subtle ways. Like right now. The emotional support and love you give me helps me to become the strong woman you see before you.

    “Thank you, Mother! I owe you everything!”

    My mother beams at me through happy tears of her own as she says, “The pleasure is all mine! You make my life complete.”

    “Ah!” I bop her nose with a wet finger. “We make each other's life complete,” I correct. “I may have been born from a different woman, but we were made for each other. I am your daughter . . . wholeheartedly and completely.”

    As if on cue, I sit up and lean towards her while she leans to me. We hug each other warmly and tenderly, though I lament a bit how I'm soaking her clothes.

    But eh! I'm sure she doesn't mind too much. Not compared to what she gains in return. She can always change her clothes and hand her current outfit to one of our cleaning droids.

    “There is something else important I wanted to talk about to you tonight,” my mother announces as we pull back from each other. I sink back into the bubble water.

    “It's about Diamond, isn't it?” I guess. “You're thinking of adopting her.”

    My mother shakes her head. Seeing that causes me to raise an eyebrow and ask her, “No?”

    “Legally, I can't,” my mother informs me. “Not with her being in her parent’s custody.”

    “Oh!” I widen my eyes as I turn my head to look forward again. “True. That's true.”

    “But I was planning on making our relationship a little official,” my mother goes on. “I was thinking of applying to make this a foster home. Then, under those terms, I can have some legal authority over Diamond.”

    “Yeah, you don't want to be sued for kidnapping,” I agree. “That probably would risk your job as well. Many parents are currently paranoid about their children going to Canterlot as it is. We don't need to intensify the scandal.”

    My mother nods in agreement. “So you do understand.”

    “I read the adoption system,” I say as my eyes look back at my mother while my face remains towards the wall at the foot of the bathtub. “I must confess, I had some invested interest in studying the system earlier, so I know what's involved. You can get this house set up for a foster care system way faster than an actual adoption, but that means this house, and you, will have to endure several checks.

    “You know, Scootaloo is currently in such a system right now. If you get approved as a foster home, Scoots could move over here too. I doubt she'd take it, though. She seems pretty happy over there.”

    My mother gives me a half shrug. “I could accept Scoots if she wanted to come here, but I'm really doing this for Diamond's sake. I have a few friends in the agency as well. I think I could get them to rush my application considering Diamond's current crisis.

    “Before I move forward with any of this, though, I wanted to check with you first.

    “If I get approved, I would become Diamond's foster parent, but you will still remain my legal child. That's not going to change. What is going to change is you'd sort of gain a new sister in this home. Is that okay with you?”

    Diamond Tiara . . . my sister?!

    OH GOD! I didn't connect those dots before! It's just hitting me now!

    But . . . what a valuable opportunity, too! I'd certainly get a chance to study her closely if she's in my home all the time.

    But . . . if I later betray Diamond . . . then my mother is going to get injured too!

    Ouch! That is not ideal for me. New circumstances may have to be arranged to navigate the chess pieces where I want them on the board before I make the final kill.

    Meanwhile, I think I can work with this unexpected opportunity.

    For now.

    “Sure, Mother. That sounds swell to me!” I tell her happily with a great big, fake smile. “Oh golly gumdrops, I can't wait to have a new sister-in-law . . . sort of.”

    “She would not truly be your legal step-sister,” my mother corrects. “Technically, she is just staying with us for an extended visit, but,” she pats my hand, “I have no qualms at all about you calling her your sister as much as you'd like to. You go right ahead.”

    “Neat-o!” I say as I maintain my fake smile. I am fighting hard not to twitch. “I always wanted to have a sister!

    “Ooo!” I realize something brightly. “Maybe she can be my partner in the next sister-hood social!”

    “There you go! That's the spirit!” my mother cheers. “By the way, change of subject, I heard you hung out with a new group of friends today. I even heard a rumor that you joined the Cutie Mark Crusaders along with Diamond and Silver Spoon. Is that true?”

    I shrug a bit. “More or less, yeah.”

    My mother squeals in excitement, then says, “Oh, good for you, Honey! You're finally really taking steps to make new friends! I've been so worried about that, but seeing you finally develop close social bonds is easing the concerns I had for you.”

    “Do you mean that?” I ask her, feeling a bit caught off guard by that statement.

    My mother nods. “Friends are important. Book study can only get you so far. Believe me, I know.

    “I heard my pony counterpart used to be the same way. She isn't into technology as much as I am, but she told me she kept her nose in books almost constantly. Long enough to ignore almost everything else, including friends.

    “But, by moving to Ponyville and making new friends, she eventually became the Princess of Friendship! I'm so proud of her!”

    “And you?” I ask while I raise an eyebrow at her. “Are you jealous of her?”

    “Jealous? No!” my mother denies, then rolls her eyes. “Well, maybe a little bit, but my life didn't turn out too bad.

    “Actually, she told me that she was jealous of me many times.”

    “Really?” I ask in surprise.

    My mother nods. “Yeah. She says it's because my life is a lot more simple. I may be busy at work but not as busy as her. Managing Canterlot High is a whole lot less responsibility than managing an entire kingdom. She does have a lot of staff to help her do it, but she also says she misses the company of her friends. They make time for each other on occasion, but not as much as she'd like.

    “Though she mostly keeps that to herself.”

    My mother looks away wistfully. “When she told me that, it made me realize that I really do have a good life here. I'm happy! I'm truly happy. What more could one ask for?”

    She smiles at me lovingly as she says, “You are a big part of that, my dear. You are a major reason why my life is so positive. That truly is an advantage I have over my pony counterpart. Last time I checked, she still isn't a mother in any way, shape or form, unless you count the entire kingdom as her children.”

    I look away from my mother as I think back.

    “Adopt Cozy Glow? That seems extreme even for you, Twilight,” Starlight had once said in astonishment.

    “It worked for my counterpart with her daughter,” Twilight returned. “You don't know this Cozy like I do. My counterpart showered this Cozy with love and affection, and she turned out way better in life than ours ever did. What if that was our Cozy's problem to begin with? What if she simply needed loving guidance to be a better pony?”

    Wow! I haven't thought about that memory in what feels like quite some time, but now it hits me like a truck.

    I can't help but be curious. Do I dare to hope as well? I wonder what the follow up to that promise is. I thought everyone in that room was spouting a bunch of bullshit to me at the time, but some pieces of evidence verified some of their claims later on.

    For instance, what if it turns out Twilight was right about my former parents being abusive? That was the one fact that cast the most doubt on Princess Twilight for me back then, but if it turned out to be true, then what else was she right about? What if she did keep her word and freed my pony self? Is that Cozy living with Princess Twilight as her adopted daughter right now, just like I am with my mother?

    The way I exited Horse-Land might have damaged pony Cozy's chances of being freed, but there is no guarantee that they'd totally give up on her. Princess Twilight's conviction seemed so intense that the only reason I doubted her was because of what she had done and what she said about my parents.

    Damn it! Now this curiosity is going to haunt me, and I already damaged all chances to communicate with Horse-Land.

    Unless my mother repairs the portal. That should be difficult for her, however, without the magical components that I am hiding. She can't just buy that at the supermarket, nor can I risk revealing it to my mother. If I do, that would expose my other crimes to her. I can't risk that!

    “Mother . . . would you always forgive me and be my mother . . . no matter what I do?” I ask her with an unsteady voice.

    “Of course I would!” my mother replies instantly.

    I close my eyes, hold my breath, then sink my head below the water.

    I wish I could believe her!
> Chapter Thirty Four: Secrets Revealed
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Diamond Tiara wants to keep the abuse she had suffered with her mother a secret. The most likely reason that I can see for this is probably two-fold.

Reason one; she does not want to damage her relationship with her mother too much on the off chance that either one of them changes their mind and decides to move back together. Diamond also probably felt some lingering loyalty to her mother, no matter how little it is deserved.

Reason two; Diamond probably does not want to deal with the drama of this situation, especially from a public perspective. It is hard enough to show her face in school as it is while coping with all of that emotional baggage. She probably did not want to suffer the looks of pity from her classmates on top of that. That, she figures, would overwhelm her.

Unfortunately for Little Miss Prissy, I have three reasons to oppose this plan.

Reason one; I LOATH Diamond Tiara with a passion! If she wants to sweep this whole issue under the rug, that's reason enough for me to expose her secret.

Unfortunately, this also means I won't be able to use this evidence as leverage against Diamond if I use it to expose her secret, but whatever!

Fuck you, Diamond Tiara! You are the entire reason I set up this Shadow Queen network in the first place. I went through all of this trouble just for the chance to harm my primary target. Now that I am finally tasting blood on your neck, I shall savagely tear into the wound.

Reason two; although I hate to admit this, Spoiled Rich might be the true source of my woes. What Diamond has done to me can never be forgiven, but at least now it is somewhat understood. In fact, Spoiled seems ten times worse. If abuse on that level had always been the case, no wonder Diamond turned out the way she did, so it's very easy for me to copy and paste all of my rage for Diamond to Spoiled.

Seeing Spoiled scream and slap her daughter like that brought back painful memories that I still don't fully comprehend. All I know for sure is these are likely repressed feelings that I despise every bit as much as I equally fear it.

Spoiled Rich is a frickin’ monster that does not deserve protection, love, or loyalty. In just one move, I can threaten everything that Spoiled cares about, which is fantastic in my book. Spoiled needs to rot in hell for all that she's done.

Reason three; doing this supports the goal of my mother. Anything I can do to make her happy is reason enough for me to act.

Just recently, I learned that my mother wants to turn her home into a foster home just to support one girl. If Child Protective Services learns of what happened to Diamond with her mother, then it would go a long way to convince such an agency that my mother's initiative is a smart and necessary move.

Removing Diamond from her mother does not guarantee that Diamond will be allowed to move in with us, but I calculate at least an eighty-one percent chance that my mother's request will be approved before the end of the week. For each day that goes by after that, the odds further increase by half a percent.

The reason I think this is because my mother has an overwhelmingly good track record with the adoption agency already. Not only did she already pass a thorough background check six years ago, but she continued to impress the agency when they sent a follow-up agent once a year to check on our progress together. What they saw as a result of that checkup has produced a glowing report.

This is an arrangement that the adoption agency plans to continue once every year until I turn eighteen which will happen by the end of this year.

My mother has succeeded in taking an emotionally wrecked child (which is not that uncommon for those adopted by the agency, unfortunately) and turned her into a National Chess Champion, Prestigious winner of Music Awards for the violin, subject of interest to multiple Ivy League colleges with an offer of full scholarship benefits, and Student Council President of Canterlot High.

On her own merits, my mother is exceptionally smart, educated enough to qualify and certified to be a teacher (and she has done that for me for several years while my confidence was still building), she is financially and emotionally stable, she has a good (I would even say great and futuristic) home, she has strong social contacts, she is kind and loving, she never ignores me when I need her attention, she is firm but fair when she needs to be, she puts her child first before all other priorities, she is a trained medic, and she is surprisingly talented in multiple, and I would even say highly unusual, ways.

For instance, like her ability to cast magic or invent gadgets decades ahead of our time.

She has proven capable of providing for me in every possible way that matters, including security. How many others can honestly say they have a superheroine for their mother?

My mother is the kind of person a vast majority of the world wishes they had, and I'll gladly tell that to her face as many times as it takes to convince her of that.

By most standards of our society, this is easily considered a “winning” and “best-case scenario” to the adoption agency. They are probably using my mother as an example to the rest of the agency of what they are aiming for with the rest of their youths.

Because of the glowing reports the agency has received from our relationship (and my mother certainly deserves every word of it), they would be thrilled with another opportunity to get a troubled youth off of their hands, otherwise Diamond could end up costing taxpayer bits to support her. 

For all these reasons combined, I feel as confident that my mother's request will be approved as I do that Spoiled Rich's actions will be condemned.

I know that Spoiled Rich's lawyers are too well paid to expect the worst-case scenario for Spoiled right off the bat. Thanks to them, they may temporarily protect her from being sued or sent to jail.

However, custody of her child, I figure, would very quickly be called into question. Spoiled will certainly lose face in the eyes of the public and her peers, and I know her well enough now to realize that will definitely hurt her. She's been kissing ass of her equals or better all of her life. After her crimes get exposed, however, I figured it would not take long for her to stop getting invited to fancy parties. That negative reputation is also likely to damage future fortune down the road.

I'm also counting on the fact that her husband will not only want to divorce her (because most of the reports I have on him say that he's a relatively okay guy), but also sue her financially and attempt to gain sole custody of Diamond, unless my mother gets it first. Filthy Rich can hire just as formidable lawyers as Spoiled, if not better. Since he's the true breadwinner of that family, I suspect he has deeper pockets compared to his own wife.

Plus, with the damning evidence against her in full public view, it wouldn't be difficult to convince a jury which side to favor between the two of them. One parent has been a bit negligent, and the other is downright abusive to the point of nearly driving her daughter to suicide. It's pretty easy to calculate which way the odds favor in this scenario, but my mother intervening is probably a better case still.

Which, of course, complicates my revenge scheme against Diamond as well, but I'll cross that bridge when I get to it.

To get this information out in the first place, I stole Silver Spoon's cellphone data, specifically for the video footage she recorded at the Rich family manor when Silver recorded Diamond's computer screen while it was displaying the video footage from my “Eye in the Sky” drone.

I did not choose Silver's phone at random. I chose hers because she was the first to record the screen aside from myself, and she isn't me (so suspicion is somewhat sidetracked away from me).

I knew Scootaloo's phone was totally not an option because she actually has a dumb phone. Scootaloo took only a few snapshot pictures of Diamond's computer screen, and she did not take many because the storage capacity in Scootaloo's phone is very low. Of those pictures, many of them are low quality to boot. Specifically, they are grainy and most of them have too much glare. A photographer Scootaloo certainly is not, but I have to admit that she wasn't working with sophisticated equipment. As a result, I cannot entirely pin all the blame on Scootaloo’s skills, or lack thereof.

By weighing all the other options at my disposal, taking Silver Spoon's footage is the best sample, aside from my own.

Armed with that footage, I distribute it to various minions as the Shadow Queen. I instruct them to spread this information to make sure it becomes common knowledge in Canterlot High.

With that done, I know it is only a matter of time before the press gets a hold of this information, too.

However, Silver Spoon's footage did require some editing before I spread it. For instance, she recorded a good seventeen seconds of me collapsed on the floor and suffering an epileptic seizure.

Sweetie Belle, on the other hand, had the courtesy to stop recording at that point. Aside from that, she was trained to respond on how to handle that situation. She knew where I stored my shot of emergency insulin.

For once, I did not have my emergency insulin on me at the time because I was wearing only the one long shirt. Instead, it was stored elsewhere within the room back then.

It is eerie to watch my body collapsed and wiggling on the floor from an outside perspective. During that time, I knew that the lights were on but nobody was home. I recall how my mind was elsewhere during a vivid, waking nightmare. It also meant I was not in control of my body at the time so, for all intents and purposes, that was not my body during that brief moment. It wiggled on its own like the body of a chicken with its head cut off.

Since I had no desire for that footage to spread across Canterlot as well, I edited it out as well as a few bits of potentially incriminating information.

There are consequences to this strategy, though. Consequences that I certainly expect. For instance, I knew that I had no leverage to keep Silver Spoon's mouth shut on this issue.

Naturally, she is furious that someone hacked into her private information and exposed it to the entire school. She wants to make it clear to everyone that she was not responsible for this heinous act. She especially wants to make that clear to Diamond Tiara.

This, in turn, puts the activities of the Shadow Queen into more public light.

Rumors start to spread. As they do, the students and faculty at Canterlot are starting to realize how complex of a network I have in my dark web. Originally every minion I have at my disposal was only aware of their own acts. I compartmentalized their knowledge on purpose so they wouldn't realize how wide-scale my reach is, but this is the first time one of my acts reaches public knowledge. As they discuss it, the students are beginning to realize more and more how many other fellow victims there are.

And yeah, that is a risky move on my part, but it is all to help me attack my primary target. The network exists to make Diamond suffer in the first place, so I might as well use it to its extreme even if it exposes me some.

However, to my surprise and secret disappointment, Diamond did not react the way I thought she would. I was with her when she first got the news. At first she really was horrified, but then I saw a sudden shift in her attitude that I calculated to have extremely low odds of occurring.

Suffice to say, Diamond seemed to have suddenly “decided” to skip past four stages of grief and go straight into its final stage, acceptance. Not only did she accept this with a shrug, but part of her seemed openly glad that this was happening.

By studying this perplexing (and unwelcome) reaction, I realize that the reason has something to do with her anger towards her mother. Apparently her breakthrough in my bedroom against the virtual copy of her mother hit home far harder than I had anticipated.

Now that she decides to accept this, she goes ahead and confirms this story to every student who asks her if this footage does indeed show her and her mother in the middle of those cruel acts.

It doesn’t take long after that for the school's counselor to call Diamond Tiara about this new footage. I am there in one of her classrooms while she is called to the counselor’s office. It is easy to predict how that conversation will go.

Before the end of school on that day, I pass a note to Sweetie Belle, Applebloom, Silver Spoon, and Diamond Tiara to meet me after school so we can discuss “something important”, as I put it. Specifically, I tell them to meet me at DJ's Rave for our first official Cutie Mark Crusaders meeting.

Since they agree to meet me, I plan my next move.





* * *





DJ's Rave is a combination of a sit-down restaurant, a liquor bar, and a dance joint. It is often a karaoke bar too, hosted by Vinyl Scratch during those times.

However, I chose this meeting spot two hours before the karaoke part starts just to make sure it was a little quieter during our meeting. Nevertheless, Sweetie Belle is quite excited to make this discovery and eagerly begs the rest of us to remain so we can join her for karaoke night.

For my part, it's why I chose this establishment and time. I knew Sweetie would want us to partake of the singing after the meeting. Frankly, I am surprised that Sweetie Belle, of all people, didn't already know about this place.

She knows about it now, though, and told me she owes me big time for pointing this out to her.

Score!

“Thank you all for coming,” I announce when the six of us settle into a large, rounded booth. This is also after we order our drinks, but before the drinks actually arrive. “I, Cozy Glow,” I knock on the wooden table lightly, “would like to call our first official Cutie Mark Crusader meeting to order, and we have a lot to discuss on the docket.”

I open a notepad on my cellphone to review my notes, then I look at Diamond Tiara as I say to her, “Well . . . you have had a very interesting day. I have to say, you're taking it really well.”

Indeed, too well! It is true that I wanted to fatten you up by restoring your confidence before consuming you, but I also wanted to figuratively drag you by your hair, naked, kicking and screaming across an entire field of broken glass. It feels downright annoying how fast your recovery is considering the substantial risk I had to use in order to attack you. I can't believe how badly I miscalculated your reaction.

This is yet more evidence that I am losing my touch.

“Yeah!” Sweetie Belle agrees as she looks at Diamond enthusiastically. “I agree! You are handling this whole situation remarkably well!”

“I have to admit, part of me is surprised as well,” Diamond agrees. “I guess I'm just fed up with my mother's bullshit. I'm a beautiful diamond who deserves much better treatment than I have been receiving.”

“Here-here!” Scootaloo cheers. “Way to go, Diamond! I'm so proud of you for finally standing up for yourself! Nobody should have to be bullied like you were. Not even you, a former bully.”

“And I will apologize for that as many times as it takes to convince you all that I have, indeed, changed,” Diamond announces sincerely. “I don't want to be that kind of person anymore because, if I do, then it means my mother wins.” She shook her head. “She doesn't deserve that victory. She may have given birth to me, but she does not own me.

“Also,” she looks across all of us very gratefully, “I thank you all for being with me to support me. Honestly, without your support, I don't think I could have been nearly this strong.

“I especially want to thank you, Sweetie Belle, for staying with me and keeping me from making the worst mistake of my life.

“As for you,” Diamond addresses me, “what you told me at your home has helped me immensely. I don't know how many more times you are going to keep impressing me. A lot of your advice and tactics are brutal, but it's just what I needed to hear. You finally slapped enough sense into me to give me a sharp wake up call. Now I feel like I'm finally aware of my environment and who I am for the very first time.”

“Which is proof ya are a true, genuine Crusader!” Applebloom announces to me proudly, then says to the entire group. “Welcome to the team, y'all!”

“I can't believe how much time I've wasted under her cold thumb,” Diamond says in disbelief as she looks at the table with a shake of her head. “It really is amazing how different I feel.”

“Different enough not to feel like killing yourself again, I hope,” Scootaloo says to Diamond.

Diamond smiles at Scootaloo as she assures, “Don't worry. I'm well over that now, thanks to all of you.”

“Did you tell the counselor about that?” Silver asks Diamond beside her curiously.

Diamond almost answers, but pauses when our waitress comes and delivers our drinks. The same waitress also asks if we're ready to order any food. Silver, Diamond, and I say no, but when the waitress turns to look at Sweetie Belle, she orders a giant plate of nachos for the whole table. She looks across the rest of her friends at the table to see if they agree. Silver and Diamond simply shrug, but Applebloom and Scootaloo eagerly agree.

“That sounds fine,” Silver Spoon says indifferently. “Also, I'll pay for it.”

“You sure?” Sweetie double-checks with Silver.

Silver waves Sweetie off as she says, “It's fine. Don't worry about it.”

The waitress accepts our order. After confirming that is the only item we'll be ordering for now, she leaves, but we keep one menu just in case we change our minds later.

“I swear, it's going to take me some time to get used to the fact that we actually have a rich club member now among the Crusaders,” Scootaloo says in bewilderment. She looks at Diamond, then adds, “It would have been two if it weren't for your situation. No offense.”

“I'm beginning to learn that the term, 'wealth', is fairly relative,” says Diamond. “I told you at my mansion that all of that stuff came at the expense of my chance for happiness. For the first time, I'm beginning to learn what it's like to have that pattern reversed.”

“It's great, isn't it?” Scootaloo checks with hope in her voice. “Now you totally get to have freedom from your mother and her awful judgments. Plus, you're staying at Cozy's house now, and she has the best mom ever! She isn't as awesome as Rainbow Dash, but she is still pretty awesome in her own right.”

“I think my mother is very awesome,” I say with a minor frown.

Scootaloo looks at me in alarm. “No, no! I don't mean . . .” She sighs in frustration. “Please don't put words into my mouth.”

Seeing Scootaloo uncomfortable, Sweetie decides to be a sweetheart by trying to change the subject a bit. In accordance with that, she looks at Diamond and asks her, “So . . . how is it at Cozy's so far? Do you like it?”

Diamond takes a deep breath, expels it, then says, “Honestly, it doesn't feel real yet. For the past two nights, I woke up in a strange new place and I briefly panicked because I forgot where I was. When I recall, part of me is thinking, 'Really? Is this real? Am I finally free?' I feel so terrified that I'll wake up from this wonderful dream and return back to my mother's mansion.”

Those words struck a nerve with me. I look at Diamond in amazement as I honestly tell her, “That's how I used to feel for many years after I moved in with my mother. Sometimes I still feel that way. Every time she hugs me, it helps to reassure me, but deep down . . . part of me is still convinced that this isn't real.”

Diamond widens her eyes at me as she says, “I know, right? Your mother feels too good to be true.

“While that does help to soothe our soul, part of us just can't accept it because it feels too darn good.

“You came from the orphanage before this, right? So you know what it's like when life used to suck. When we've grown so accustomed to being in hell, it feels jarring to suddenly be thrust into heaven. It does feel nice but we can't quite trust it. You know?”

OH . . . MY . . . GOD! Am I having a moment of rapport . . . with DIAMOND TIARA?! This can't be happening!

But, in a way, it is comforting. I always felt, deep down, that my mother is too good to be true. By listening to someone else say the same thing, it validates my feelings. It helps me to feel less alone and more understood.

Okay. I'll make myself a deal. As long as Diamond talks about my mother in a good way, I'll dismiss her history. I would love to talk about how much I love my mother with anyone. Even her!

“I have to admit, I’ve never seen you smile like this,” Silver says to Diamond happily. “I'm so happy for you!”

“Thanks.” Diamond pats Silver's left hand since it is closer. “You, my friend, have been my oldest and dearest friend. I will always be grateful for the love and support you've given me over these years.

“And . . . I'm sorry that I've been a royal pain at times.”

Silver shrugs as she says, “Mutual circumstances sometimes make strange bedfellows. You were a pain in the ass many times, but enduring that was better than the alternative. It was better than being alone.”

“You said it,” Diamond agrees.

Huh. Yet another thing we seem to have in common.

I wonder . . . is that the worst fear of most of humanity? Do we all fear to be totally alone?

“Um,” I focus on Diamond. Saying that drew her attention to me. “I want to bring up a question Silver asked earlier before we got interrupted. Did you tell the counselor that you were having suicidal thoughts and some actions earlier?”

Diamond sighs a little, then says, “Honestly, I didn't have much of a choice. I was sent to the nurse’s office first.

“No, wait. I was sent there second then I went back to the counselor with the test results. They discovered the cuts and bruises I had on me, especially around my wrist. I did admit to causing those myself.”

“I see,” I look forward at nothing for a moment, then look back at her. “I imagine that she was quite alarmed to hear that. She probably insisted on arranging for a suicide counseling session or something.”

Diamond nods. “In fact, she did. She also told me that this is one of the few kinds of information she legally could not keep confidential. She is going to report this to the police.”

“That makes sense,” I say to her. “That's to be expected.

“I take it she also asked you if you still had suicidal thoughts, and you told her no?”

“Wow!” Diamond blinks at me. “It's as if you were there, spying on me somehow.”

“Speaking of spying,” Silver slaps the table in fury, “someone STOLE information on my cellphone and practically splashed it all over the news, or might as well have. I don't know if you can tell, but I am so PISSED OFF RIGHT NOW!”

“As well you should be,” I agree to Silver. “Which is another reason why I called you all here for this meeting. I wanted to discuss the hacker that has caused this.”

Silver suddenly sends me a sharp look as she asks me, “You know something about this?!”

I lift a finger to her as a signal for patience while I sip my cherry/coke soda. I resume speaking to her when I'm done.

“Indeed, I do, and I have something to announce to you all, especially you, Sweetie Belle.” I look at her. “You were right about the fact that I have talked to Button Mash, but the reason isn't as invasive as you think.

“You see, he approached me first to warn me that a hacker by the name of the Shadow Queen has been bullying him in cyberspace. Apparently, she has some incriminating pictures of his mom and such. He told me she tried to use it to blackmail him into talking to you,” I point at Sweetie then swing that point to Diamond, “about her.”

“The Shadow Queen?” Scootaloo winces. “You mean she's real? I heard rumors about her at school, but I thought it was just a bunch of B-S. You mean this shit is real?”

“Very real,” I assure Scootaloo firmly. “This Shadow Queen sent Button a text message right in front of me,” I tell them to plant the idea in their heads that I am innocent. “I even took a picture of it using my own cellphone before the text erased itself.”

Scootaloo squints one eye at me as she asks, “Wait. The text erases itself? Then how would this Shadow Queen know that Button looked at it at all?”

“Maybe it's programmed to know if the screen turns on,” Silver suggests. “Or maybe it uses our phone’s own camera and matches it with facial recognition software. Honestly, if this hacker is worth her salt, there are plenty of ways to do anything she wants.”

Sweetie shudders. “Ooo! This sounds so scary!”

“Sweetie Belle . . . there is something else you should know,” I bring up, winning her attention back to me. “Button Mash . . . he tried to protect you. Despite the leverage the Shadow Queen had over him, Button didn't want you involved because he didn't want you to get hurt. He really cares for you deeply even though you rejected him years ago.

“I, ah . . . just thought you should know that.”

“Rejected him?!” Diamond asks with a surprising amount of alarm. “Sweetie, does she mean that Button once proposed to you or something?”

“Uh . . . yeah . . . sorta,” Sweetie answers as she glows beet red. “but that was years ago. Button and I were still just little kids.”

Sweetie looks embarrassed to have this secret exposed. That in itself is not surprising. What is astonishing is actually Diamond's reaction to this news. She actually looks furious and defensive.

I look back and forth between Diamond and Sweetie Belle. Sweetie is embarrassed to be caught, and Diamond is reacting like Sweetie cheated on her.

Oh, you gotta be SHITTING ME! Diamond and Sweetie . . . REALLY?!

But then I recall something Sweetie almost said back in my office when I first confronted her and Diamond. After Diamond left, Sweetie Belle almost confessed something else but bit her tongue at the last second. Is this what she was going to say back then?

Studying their reaction more carefully, I soon realize that Sweetie isn't even sure she is in the closet in the first place, let alone ready to come out of it. She seems like she's on the fence.

Meanwhile, Diamond's reaction is much more intense, so between the two, if there was any romantic advances between either one of them, then Diamond was almost certainly the instigator.

I wish I could chalk that up as a fluke. A temporary loss of control due to heightened emotions. After all, Sweetie Belle literally saved Diamond's life.

But, if that was all it was, Diamond wouldn't be acting so defensive now.

Just in case, I take stock of the reaction of all the other girls at the table.

Silver Spoon looks like she couldn't care less.

Applebloom seems amused. She looks like she is restraining a giggle. She also doesn't look surprised. Maybe Sweetie confessed this part to Applebloom earlier. Beyond that, Applebloom doesn't look too judgmental at all. She probably tried to console Sweetie at one time by saying something like, “It's okay if ya have feelings for Diamond. Ya can have a crush on anyone ya want.”

Scootaloo's reaction is also startling. She looks depressed, as if lamenting the fact that Diamond beat Scootaloo to the punch. Does that mean Scootaloo has feelings for Sweetie Belle too?

Come to think of it, Scootaloo is easily the most masculine girl sitting at this table right now. From a distance, based on her attire and appearance, she could easily be mistaken for a boy. So much so that part of me even wonders if she really does identify as a boy.

Actually, that's interesting to think about, because all three girls of the original CMC seem to illustrate a different side of femininity. While Scoots is the most masculine, Applebloom is down the middle. Even now she is wearing jean pants, and her blouse looks more functional than aesthetic, but it leans on feminine due to the laces at the edge of the blouse. In A-B's case, the true dead giveaway to her gender, speaking strictly in terms of attire, is the great big red bow in her hair. That, above all, signals to everyone else, “Yeah, I am a girl, and don't you forget it!”

Sweetie Belle completes the circle by leaning totally on the feminine side. She is a girly-girl both in terms of attire and personality. This is most likely her sister Rarity's influence.

In fact, I am not sure if I have ever seen Rarity design clothes for men. I'm sure she could, but she seems to specialize in women's clothes. Considering the fact she can wear what she designs, I see the appeal for Rarity.

“So . . . that is why Button came at me all of a sudden,” Sweetie Belle realizes. “I must admit, I did think it strange that he did it out of the blue. I was especially confused at his interest in Diamond. At the time, I thought that he was romantically interested in Diamond, except he asked about some of her problems. I didn't want to tell him that she was suicidal, so I told him something else to throw him off the scent.

“So . . . did Button say anything else about me?” Sweetie Belle asks me shyly while also glowing red with embarrassment, but her curiosity is too strong not to ask. While she asks, she absently twirls a finger through her hair.

“The main thing is he cares for you a great deal. He seems determined to protect you, which is why he doesn't want you involved with this Shadow Queen business. What I'm discussing with you right now he might consider a betrayal, but with everything that happened with Silver recently,” I nod to her, “I thought I should warn you guys about this.”

I look at Diamond as I say to her, “For some reason, the Shadow Queen seems especially interested in you. Button and I used to think that she was trying to get leverage over you so that she could persuade you to betray me, but now I'm thinking you might have been her primary target all along.”

“Oh?” Diamond asks me with a blink.

“Think about it!” I lean toward her across the table. “As far as I know, you are the only one she openly attacked. Everyone else she held at ransom. Her normal m-o seems to be to use information to blackmail people into giving her more information to blackmail others, but not you. She broke her pattern with you. Instead of threatening you, like she did for everyone else, she instead exposed your information about your mother without giving you a chance to defend yourself. That tells me that, whomever she is, she has a personal vendetta against you specifically.

“Tell me, Diamond Tiara, do you have any special enemies in the past that you have harmed? Someone who might bear an overwhelming grudge against you?”

I examine her response very carefully. I want to see if there is any hint of remorse within her about what she has done to me.

But, instead of remorse, I see confusion.

“I was a bitch for a great deal of my life,” Diamond announces. “I think my problem is that the list of suspects is too long. The only hint I can offer is that, among them, someone is a professional hacker who also has a personal vendetta against me. Right now, I have no idea who that is.”

“I see,” I say a bit emptily as I look down.

I don't know why I feel so disappointed. I guess I was giving her one chance to apologize to me now. If she did, I might have been willing to call off this war, especially for my mother's sake.

But noooooooooooooo! She doesn't even remember me! She doesn't think that the wrong she did against me is worth remembering. The biggest insult and injury she did to me in my entire LIFE . . . and it is not worth remembering?

Okay, then. Game on, Little Miss Prissy!

“We should probably discuss that list anyway,” Silver suggests. “We might find a way to narrow it down later.”

Yeah. If I appear on that list at all, I might be just an afterthought.

“We can try,” Diamond partially agrees with a half shrug.

For a very brief moment, I look up at Diamond with a harsh glare of burning hatred flaring deep in my eyes, but then I remember to compose myself. I wipe it away with a fake look of concern to Diamond.

“I feel it is my duty to point out,” I say to gather their attention again, “that Diamond might not be the Shadow Queen's only direct victim. There is a good chance that Sunset Shimmer also suffered her wrath.”

“OH!” Sweetie Belle covers her mouth with a sharp gasp. “I didn't even think of that, but you're right! I always suspected Sunset Shimmer was framed, and now I am hearing of an evil hacker at our school? That can't be a coincidence!”

“Button and I reached the same conclusion,” I agree, followed by another sip of my drink.

“So this Shadow Queen framed Sunset Shimmer?!” Scootaloo asks in astonishment, then she pounds the table with two fists. “Ooooo! Now I’m REALLY mad! How dare she hurt one of my dearest friends!”

“We should take this here information to the po’leese!” Applebloom proposes. “That might help tah clear Sunset's name!”

“With what proof?” I challenge Applebloom. “Button Mash suggested the same thing, so I'll tell you the same thing I told him. It would be very unwise for us to take this to the police because that might force the culprit to go deeper underground. If that happens, we could lose our chance to unmask this villainess. If that happens, it also means we'll lose our chance to save Sunset Shimmer.”

“But what can we do?!” Sweetie asks with worry. “We're just teenagers!”

“Teenagers who happen to have one of the world's greatest geniuses join their little Crusade,” I remind the group. “Remember, strategy is my specialty.

“For now, I advise patience and for us to keep our heads cool . . . for Sunny's sake.”

“Ooo! I know what we can do!” Sweetie says brightly. “Let's discuss this with my sister Rarity! She said she is investigating this case anyway, and you just know she isn't the culprit.”

I wave Sweetie off as I tell her, “No need. Rarity already came by my office about this. She seems to have some decent leads. I even think she has a suspect, but I don't think she'll be inclined to tell us about it.”

“Why not?” Silver asks defensively. “If she has any idea who hacked my phone, then I want to know about it!”

“Then you'll have to discuss it with Rarity,” I advise Silver.

Actually, I am worried about that, but the threat exists regardless of what I tell them, so tipping them off doesn't change much other than allowing me to have some control over the flow of information.

“I think I will,” Silver says with a huff as she crosses her arms. She still looks really furious. “If this hacker merely stopped at looking through my information, I would be insulted but could ultimately let it slide. However, by using that information to attack one of my dearest friends is unforgivable!

“Plus, if she really did send Sunset to jail unjustly, then that is another thing I cannot let slide.”

And Rarity really is a dire threat to me.

Damn it! Did I just make a grave miscalculation here? That's been happening way too often lately for my taste.

“You'll tell us what she said?” Scootaloo asks Silver hopefully.

“If she tells me any information worth mentioning, then sure,” Silver agrees. “But, just in case, I probably should tell you in person rather than relying on my compromised phone.”

“Ah . . . if you are not going to use it anymore . . . can I have it?” I request hopefully. After all, the cellphone case alone is worth a fortune! I think Silver put actual diamond dust on it. With it, I could cast a stone skin spell if Ogres and Oubliettes were real.

Silver passes me a piercing stare for a moment, then she lifts her phone as she says, “Actually, you have a point. I'll loan you my phone on one condition; you must promise me to have your mother take a look at it. She might be able to determine something about it that could help us narrow down our list of suspects.”

“Certainly! I'll take it to my mother right away,” I lie.

Silver slides her phone across the table at me. I sweep it up and deposit it in my purse.

“Tell your mother to give it back to me in person after she examines it thoroughly,” Silver instructs me. “Make sure she knows to hand it to me in person because I can't trust a digital format right now. Even if it's a video call, the hacker might find some way to fake the call.”

Ooo! Clever girl! Now that request puts me in a bind.

I'll have to check the phone myself to make sure I clean it of any evidence before presenting it to my mother.

“Good idea,” I agree to Silver. “In fact, from now on, we should all be careful what information we share using our phones. There is no telling who else’s phone might be hacked.” I lift a finger. “Only use your phone if you don't mind the information being handed to the enemy, like misinformation, for example.”

“Oh, that's clever!” Sweetie agrees.

For the first time in my experience with Sweetie Belle, I actually see an evil smirk from the otherwise very innocent looking girl. That reveals to me a side of Sweetie Belle I never encountered before. I kind of like it!

“Since we're aware that she might be tapping into our phones, we could use it to lure her into a clever trap!” Sweetie proposes deviously.

“Play that card very carefully,” I caution. “If it's too obvious then we might tip her off that we're on to her.”

“I think we should file that thought away for now,” Diamond advises. “In fact, if anyone here can come up with a clever ploy to use that tactic, it's you, Cozy. You are our resident genius here.”

“The Shadow Queen might be as well. We should be cautious,” I advised in return.

“What if she isn't smart, but she is resourceful?” Scootaloo brought up. “What if she is using Equestrian magic to get her way?”

“Ya bring up a mighty fine point,” Applebloom agrees. “This here Shadow Queen might be using Equestrian magic. If she is, she could be capable of anything.” 

I shrug as I say, “I don't see any way to safely confirm or deny that right now.”

“Just in case, you should talk to your mother about this,” Sweetie Belle brought up. “She has almost as much experience with Equestrian magic as Sunset Shimmer, and she does have the most experience when it comes to weaving that magic with technology.”

I shrug again. “I suppose there is no harm in asking. If worse comes to worse, she can at least . . .

“Hey! How do you know if she has experience combining Horse-Land magic and technology?”

“My sister Rarity told me,” Sweetie answers.

I growl a bit. “That information was supposed to be confidential. I'll have to have a little chat with Rarity.”

“Don't tell her that I said this!” Sweetie panics. “I don't want her to be mad at me!”

My expression towards Sweetie calms down as I tell her truthfully, “Don't worry, Sweetie. I know how to keep a secret. Better than your sister Rarity, it seems.”



* * *





Over the next few hours, it occurs to me, as I speak with my “fellow” Crusaders, that I've never done this before. Just hang out somewhere to socially chat with fellow members of my species. Usually, when I converse with others, it's all business.

This situation was no different at first but, as the hours dragged on, our conversation drags on from topic to topic. It shifts through so many topics that, after a while, it gets difficult to remember where the conversation originally started. Typically I have an eye for detail too, but the mind just grows numb after trying to pay close attention to so many different things.

No wonder I'm so exhausted when I collapse on my bed every night!

Another thing that's kind of new to me, at least among those at my age range, is singing karaoke at DJ's Rave. When Vinyl finally strutted into the joint like she owned the place, both Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo were very happy to see her. Sweetie Belle obviously felt that way because it meant this social gathering could progress to the part she is really looking forward to. As for Scootaloo, my guess is she simply thinks Vinyl is cool.

In fact, of all of our group, Scootaloo seems to be the most personally familiar with Vinyl Scratch. Despite Scootaloo's taste for “cool” people, I honestly didn't expect these two to be on a first-name basis.

Huh. I guess I learn something every day.

At first I am a little annoyed by this new shift in activity. Deep down, I also feel a bit nervous.

Singing is not really my “thing”, but I'm not bad at it. Thanks to my mother, I've gotten some decent practice at it, and I am way better at it than some of these others at the bar, especially Scootaloo! That darn girl practically made my ears bleed!

But I can at least appreciate how much Scootaloo enjoys it. Despite her horrible quality, Scootaloo pours her heart out to the microphone, and that has its own sort of charm. Part of me even admires her for how much she could ignore other people's criticism and not let that stop her from doing something she loves to do.

Reading my face, Applebloom points out to me that Scootaloo has actually gotten much better over the years. I widen my eyes at Applebloom as I thought to myself, “You mean, that horrible banshee voice is actually better than she used to be?” I shuddered at the thought of how bad she must have been before.

My reaction causes Applebloom to giggle.

Sweetie Belle is easily the most talented member of our table to sing. Fortunately for us, she is also the one who took the microphone the most often. She even joined several of us in a duet, me included.

I know I can sing, but doing it in front of a crowd is kind of a new experience for me.

I sweep my gaze across the audience as I am handed the microphone. I notice that the majority of the restaurant's patrons aren't paying attention to the singers. Instead, they are mostly talking among themselves.

But there are a few among the audience that are obvious enthusiasts of karaoke. They seem determined to cheer on the performers, no matter how bad they may be. But, when they did give compliments, I could tell they came from the heart. For instance, I'm sure they meant it when they said that Sweetie Belle sings like a little angel.

“YOU GOT THIS, GIRL!” an elderly country sounding and looking lady shouts out to me, cupping her hands to both sides of her mouth to enhance her volume. She cries out a cheer, then shouts, “SING IT!”

I think that country lady realizes that she does not recognize me as having been in this bar before, so she's trying her best to be supportive and encouraging before I even start to sing.

I've stood in front of a crowd before. That is one of the reasons I don't panic, but I don't feel like I'm in full control in this situation either.

Sweetie Belle ends up choosing a total of three songs to sing with me. Something they have in common is they are all duets and they got quite a beat to them that I honestly find quite infectious.

We sing the songs, “Put A Little Love In Your Heart,” “We’re Not Going To Take It,” and “We Built This City.” 

I am nervous for the first few lines, but Sweetie Belle's singing and swaying dance infects me. Before too long, I swing my arms and my hips back and forth with attitude. I let that feeling sink into my singing too. It does not take long before I fully immerse myself in the moment.

Oh my God! I am actually having a lot of fun up here!

Another thing that surprises me is Diamond Tiara's performance. Diamond is the only one among us to nearly match Sweetie in terms of quality.

Diamond, too, seems very nervous at first, but the exact same thing happens to her as it did to me. Once she sinks into the groove, Diamond is actually amazing!

Two songs that Diamond sings is “You light up my life,” and “Let it go.” While singing the former, I have a feeling she was especially singing to Sweetie and me. As for the latter song, she was probably thinking about letting go of the pain of her past, but while I sat there and listened to her song, I kept on hearing Sunset Shimmer speak to me in my mind about the importance of letting go of old grudges and to accept that the past is in the past.

Thinking of Sunny made me a bit teary-eyed, and I could not help but feel like it is a personal request. I soon swallow that sensation down, instead thinking that art can be interpreted in so many ways for each individual person and moment.

I can't believe this is happening. Am I actually having fun with Diamond Tiara?

To be honest, it's not just her. It's really all the girls that are making this moment feel special. I feel an inward glow in my chest that I can barely identify, but it closely resembles the feelings I have for my mother except . . . something is off about that. The feeling is nearly as intense, but it doesn't match the idea of looking “up” at someone above me. Instead, it's the kind of enjoyment from others within my same age range, and that feels . . . strange. Unfamiliar.

Is this what friendship feels like? If so, I kind of like it.

Even after our meeting, while Diamond and I are heading home, many of the songs we sung at the bar get stuck in my head. I find myself singing it all the way home until I turn on my computer and see an unwelcome message on my computer screen.



Dark King: It is good to get close to the enemy, but don't lose focus! Remember, let hatred be your guide!





“Oh, SHUT UP bizarro Jiminy Cricket!” I cry out at my computer monitor. “I actually had some fun today, so GET OFF MY BACK!”

I turn the computer monitor back off.
> Chapter Thirty Five: More than meets the Eye
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

After typing in the password and opening the front door to my house, I almost proceed in right away until I notice that Diamond is not following behind me. As a result, I look back and notice her hesitating to cross the threshold, so I ask her, “What's up?”

Diamond glances at me for a brief moment, then resumes looking through the open front door.

“I'm not sure,” Diamond replies timidly. “I guess this doesn't quite feel real to me yet.”

Understanding sinks into me. I turn to face her fully then approach to stand beside her. I wear a knowing grin.

“I know what you mean. It sort of feels like a dream, doesn't it? A dream that you're scared to wake from,” I give an educated hypothesis.

“Entering places like this used to appall me,” Diamond informs me. Her eyes shift to me. “It's kind of like how you might feel at the thought of entering into a mud-soaked pigsty full of fleas and maggots. This used to feel like a big step down for me, but now it feels like a sanctuary that I'm afraid I'll lose.

“Besides that,” she half shrugs lightly, “Twilight's place isn't half bad. In fact, it's kind of neat. It feels like visiting the future. My only problem with this place is I'm still relegated to sleeping on the couch over this past week, but there is still a roof over my head, something I had feared I might not have after I left my mother's mansion.”

“Yeah, we don't have much extra room in the house,” I acknowledge as I look off to my right side. “There is the basement, but it really is cluttered with all kinds of stuff. Even a few dangerous things, I suspect.”

“What kind of danger?” Diamond asks me nervously. “Dangerous as in the house could explode?”

“No.” I look back at Diamond. “Dangerous as in a lot could go wrong if those inventions fell into the wrong hands,” I assure her. “Besides, as for explosions, the ceiling and walls are reinforced for that. My mother also has blast shields down there for any experiment she feels it could happen to. I wish I was kidding, but being an inventor does mean taking certain risks. At least she's smart enough to take certain precautions.”

“Isn't that . . . illegal?” Diamond asks me quietly.

“I think my mother has the proper permits,” I answer with uncertainty.

Although, on second thought, I don't think she would be able to legally get permits in this state to operate with explosives in her own house when she has a kid living within it. That sounds like something one might want to hide from the inspection of an adoption agency.

Plus, I know the portal to Horse-Land is down there. It may be busted, but that is still not something one wants to splash all over the news. Even in it's broken state, if that machine were to be reversed engineered by others, they might accidentally, or on purpose, open a portal to literal hell, or some other dimension akin to it.

Horse-Land is not the only destination a portal like that could potentially open to. Even if it was, some horrors exist in Horse-Land as well. Their magic has been known to transform humans in our world into monsters, or summon monsters from Horse-Land itself.

Like the Dark King. I still don't know how I'm going to deal with that bastard.

I'm not even entirely certain he exists at all, or if I'm going crazy instead.

Apparently Diamond echoes some of my thoughts.

“Where would one go to get a license to invent stuff with potential explosive properties?”

“I don't know! It just seems to me that my mother has all that stuff squared away. I trust her.

“Um . . . by the way, change of subject.” I hold my bookbag in front of me as I look at Diamond squarely. “My mother asked me, about three days ago, if I'd be upset if you moved into my room. I told her that I wouldn't find that too inconvenient since we're both girls, and I don't mind the company besides, but then it occurred to me that you might have a problem with it.

“Do you? Despite appearance, you'd actually have more privacy in the living room.”

“Moving into your room? Uh . . .” Diamond trails off as she thinks about it. “Huh.” She blinks in surprise. “I don't know why, but for some reason moving into your room feels more private and secure. I know,” she shakes her head, “it shouldn't feel that way but, for some reason, I feel more exposed in the living room. Maybe it's just because of the mere idea that the living room is meant for something else. Like it's a shared space for everyone. In your room, in contrast, it would be just us.”

“Huh.” I blink with a thoughtful look on my face, then half shrug.

“Another idea Mother proposed is to redecorate the living room by perhaps installing new walls to section one corner of it off,” I mention. “After that, she'd convert it into your room. It would be much smaller, but it would also be fully yours.”

“Hmm.” Diamond looks beyond the still open door to our home. “That's something to think about.” She looks back at me as she says, “Before I agree to that, I think I want a look at the exact floor plans.”

“I'm sure Mom has one on her computer,” I tell Diamond. “It’s probably also a 3D model.”

Diamond sighs. Her face has an expression of worry. “But I don't know if I am even going to stay here. Your mother might get disapproved for this home to turn into a foster home, or my mother might complain too much and drag me back to hell kicking and screaming.”

“Okay, now I know that's not going to happen without a fight!” I warn Diamond. “My mom wouldn't be the only one to put up a struggle on that front.

“Besides, I think your mother is too busy doing damage control because of the leaked footage of her abusing you.

“One thing that does have me curious, though, is your father. What does he think of all of this?”

“My father? Um,” Diamond looks off to her side. “I've barely heard much about him over the last four years. Video conference calls, e-mail letters, and some gifts are the most I've heard from him. Other than that, he's too busy out there making us more money, as if we didn't have enough of that already.

“Honestly, my father has barely set foot inside our mansion. He treats it more like a summer home rather than his primary residence. Sometimes I think he has a second family and spends more time with them.”

I look at her in shock. “Do you really think that?”

Diamond shakes her head. “No. That's just how I feel, but I don't really have any evidence other than his frequent absence. Of the few times he has been in my life, he's usually been pretty warm and kind about it, but I can't help but I feel like he looks down on me at the same time. It's like he loves me, but he doesn't respect me. He treats me like I'm still some little kid.”

Part of me still feels like a little kid. It's honestly eerie how closely Diamond's life and mine mirror each other.

“Maybe that's common with all fathers,” I reason.

“Especially absentee fathers,” Diamond says bitterly. “He still looks at me like a little kid because I was one when we last hung out for any reasonable length of time. He's not accustomed to seeing me as a teenager or adult because he wasn't there to watch me grow up.”

“All of that might change once he catches wind of what his wife did to you,” I suspect. “If he really loves you, that might be enough to prompt drastic changes in him.

“Honestly, I'm looking at him as the most likely true reason you'll leave this home.”

“Eh.” Diamond shrugs carelessly. “We'll see. I'll cross that bridge when I get to it.”

“Question,” I broach.

“Hmm?” Diamond looks at me with interest and focused attention.

I cut a hand across the air as I say, “For now, let's pretend that, no matter how much your mother bitches and moans, her opinion doesn't matter. Pretend, for a moment, she already lost custody rights to you. That sounds likely to happen anyway.”

“Okay,” Diamond acknowledges with a nod. “Noted.”

The hand that cut through the air returns to my bookbag as I continue with my point. “Your father, on the other hand, is a different story.

“Now, I want you to pretend that, instead of demanding you back, your father approaches you and asks you if you want to return home with him, or stay here with Twilight. Pretend he also insists that your mother will not be in the picture. Pretend he successfully imposed a restraining order on her.

“If given the choice, would you go back with your father . . . or would you stay here with us?”

“You asked yourself that question many times in your life, haven't you?” Diamond perceptively asks me.

Very astute of her.

Yes, I have. To this day, I still don't feel entirely certain how I would answer that question, but after six years of my mother showering me with love using all her might, I'm heavily leaning toward remaining with her.

“I'll admit, I have thought about it,” I concede. “Even in my imagination, that perspective is painful to look at because, no matter what I choose, I feel like I'd be hurting someone I care about.

“Ideally, in that scenario, what I'd truly want is for my birth parents and my new mother to move in together and we all become one big, happy family. I'd also settle for them moving in next door as neighbors. That way I can visit them anytime I want, day or night.”

“If my father offered something like that, he'd easily be able to afford it,” Diamond acknowledges. “Furthermore, I'd see the motive. Your mother took care of his beloved child while my mother abused me and made me feel less than human. She made me feel more like garbage.”

I wince at that. For some reason, hearing her admit that felt painful to me.

I guess I'm sensitive to subjects like this, even if it comes from my worst enemy.

“But if you had to choose and you were given the choice, what would it be?” I press. “Knowing something like this might affect your living plans in this home.

“While your father could buy us an entire home with ease, my mother redecorating a single living room and converting it to a bedroom would be a strong financial strain on her.”

“I can see why you asked, then,” Diamond realizes.

I shake my head a bit. “It's not just that. Yes, the cost/benefit analysis is part of it, but I am also curious about the length and intensity of your stay here. Are you just a visitor here, or should I start calling you my sister now?”

Diamond opens her mouth to speak, but freezes that action as she looks through the door when both of us hear my mother calling to us from within.

“Cozy, Diamond . . . can you join me in the backyard, please?” my mother calls to us with an edge of insistence in her voice. Whatever the reason, it sounds important.

Looking back at Diamond, I see tension return to her face. I realize that she must have heard that steel in my mother's voice as well. Diamond is quickly growing concern that my mother may have bad news for her.

But, personally, I have another theory in mind.

“Come on.” I offer a hand to Diamond. “I'll be with you every step of the way.”

I calculate a seventy-nine percent chance that the old Diamond Tiara would have scoffed at that offer, but this girl proved she's not the same girl by gladly taking my hand. With our hands clasped, I notice how her hands are cold. She squeezes my hand for comfort.

I really can't blame her. Her entire future seems like it's in jeopardy. It must be so nerve-racking to wake up every single day and worry if tomorrow things might get so much worse for complex reasons.

I am surprised to find myself sympathizing with her, but the reasons for that are quickly falling into place for me.

Maybe this is the true Diamond Tiara. Maybe her earlier arrogance as she scoffs at everything is just a mask to hide this part of herself, a frightened and tortured child who is afraid she's going to get hurt again.

That's honestly my new impression of her. Her current fears are so strong that she doesn't see any reason to conceal it anymore. Instead, she's trying to play the “pity me” card. Why oh why is it actually working on me?

Together, hand in hand, I lead her to our backyard, where my mother is waiting for us as she stands in the middle of the rectangular, grassy yard. Initially, her back is to us.

To the corner of this yard is our khaki-colored plastic storage shed. A few feet in front of that shed, and also to the shed's right side (if facing towards it), is a small flower garden that my mother loves to tend. Surrounding this entire area is a red wooden fence that is so dark it's almost brown.

It does not escape my notice that an unusual amount of gardening tools are spread across the backyard as well as a few other large items, which are normally stored in the shed, are now sitting outside and near the shed in a great big pile. The way those items are stacked together is as if to conceal something, or rather someone, behind the stuff. This also means room has been made within the shed.

I look around more carefully and notice several shadows of people hiding around the corners of our home. I narrow my eyes at that.

Okay. Theory confirmed.

Diamond overlooks these details, though, largely because she is less accustomed to this place. Instead, she continues to regard my mother with strong worry.

“I'm here,” Diamond reports nervously to my mother's back. “Or, rather to say, we're here. Now, what did you want to talk to me about?”

My mother's back is still facing towards us, and she has her arms crossed in front of her.

“I have only one thing to say to you today, Diamond Tiara!” my mother says in an unusually hard voice. After that, she spins about and spouts out, “SURPRISE!!!” She, and many others, say simultaneously as they suddenly reveal themselves from behind wherever they were hiding.

As I suspected, a few were hidden behind the large objects that should have been in the shed. More emerge from the shed itself, and most of them reveal themselves from around the corners of our home.

The only ones that I didn't account for are the people hidden within our kitchen behind us which leads to the backyard through a large, sliding glass door.

“Wah . . . what's going on?!” Diamond asks in shock, still on edge.

“It's your housewarming party, silly!” Pinkie Pie explains as she places a party cone hat on Diamond without permission. It is a shiny green hat attached to a tiny, flexible string.

Right after securing the hat on Diamond, Pinkie blows on a small, coiled plastic thing that stretches straight when she blows on it and makes a sound. At the same time, it blows a small cloud of party confetti towards Diamond’s face.

Looking at Pinkie, I notice she is wearing her typical blue and yellow one-piece dress with puffy shoulders. On her skirt, she has what is highly likely to be her pony counterpart's cutie mark, three balloons of blue, yellow, and blue again squashed together.

“Congratulations, Sugar Cube!” the clear country accent of Applejack says from behind us as she emerges from the kitchen, along with a dozen others. I notice Applejack wearing a brown leather skirt. On her chest is a loose, highly breathable plain white shirt except for the image of a single red apple on it. On her head, she is wearing her cowboy hat.

For a brief moment, the first words her pony self had said to me flashes through my mind, because that is the last time I encountered Applejack in any form.

“I see ya met my human counterpart, else ya wouldn't have recognized me,” pony Applejack had once noted to me. “To bad she didn't tell ya about the importance of honesty.”

Because of the circumstances of that meeting, part of me feels on edge around her, but I struggle to remind myself that, to human Applejack, I'm perfectly innocent.

I quickly try to brush this thought aside in order to listen to Applejack's explanation, and I'm glad I did.

“Ya been approved to stay here as a foster child,” Applejack went on.

Diamond widens her eyes at Applejack while yet more people are quickly converging into the backyard.

“Really? So soon?” Diamond asks Applejack in astonishment.

“Yeah! I got the papers yesterday morning!” my mother cheers, regathering Diamond's attention in front of her. “All I need from you is for you to sign them, and as you can see,” she gestures to everyone around them, “I brought a lot of witnesses with me!”

“Which is something you don't have to do,” an elderly, blue-skinned woman approaches us who is dressed in a very long, straight, ivory-colored gown and dark red blouse that nearly matches the color of our fence around the backyard. She also wore spectacles clipped to her pointy nose which is sharply angled down. Her curly hair (sort of like mine) is dull blonde, but I get the impression that it used to be brighter yellow when she was younger. The expression on her face is mostly serious, but she seems a bit fascinated to observe Diamond . . . or is it me?

I, of course, recognize her on sight. This is the same woman who normally visits our home to check up on me, but this time she seems to be visiting one extra time this year.

“This is Miss Templeton,” my mother introduces to Diamond as the older and taller woman approaches. “She's here from the adoption agency to make sure everything is legit. She's the only one who is required by law to be here to witness and then claim these papers if you choose to sign them. If you do, then you get to stay here and live with us, legally!”

The excitement in my mother's voice makes her hope about Diamond's decision very clear.

“Oh gosh! This is all happening so fast!” Diamond expresses in an overwhelmed voice.

“I quite agree if present circumstances weren't withstanding,” Miss Templeton says with a very severe and curt voice. “In light of recent evidence, however, my agency wished to expedite this process so that your mother, in particular, wouldn't have legal precedence to rip you from this home.

“As it stands, however, she did the opposite of standing in Miss Sparkle's way. Your mother tried to make it very clear that she's trying to disown you.”

Diamond looks crestfallen, or more like crushed to hear that news.

“She really said that to you?” Diamond asked Miss Templeton in a distraught voice.

“Not directly, no,” Miss Templeton corrects. “Instead, word came at us from her lawyers. They seemed to want to make it very clear to us how you are written out of her will.”

“Which only means that we can get to keep you with less of a struggle, darling,” Rarity quickly adds nearby as if to try to cheer Diamond back up. I look at her, feeling a bit startled and threatened.

Rarity is not wearing the noir trench coat like she did before. Instead, she is back to tradition in a fabulously floral dress with all kinds of different colored flower petals on it. She is also wearing a wide sun hat and dark sunglasses with a pink rim and stem.

“So cheer up!” Rarity encourages. “This is great news, darling!”

“Yeah!” Rainbow Dash agrees as she stands next to and places an arm around Rarity's neck but physically looks directly at Diamond. Rainbow is wearing a sweat jumpsuit with rainbow lines stretching up her pants legs then up across both shoulders, even though the sweat coat on her top is a separate piece of her outfit.

“Cheer up!” Rainbow agrees. “It means you get to hang around us more, and I promise we'll make it awesome!”

“Yeah you will!” Scootaloo cheers behind Rainbow Dash like an excited fan. “That's because you make everything awesome!”

Rainbow gives a cocky grin then a great big thumbs up back to Scootaloo over her right shoulder.

“Were you surprised?! Were you surprised?! Huh-huh-huh?” Pinkie Pie excitedly asks Diamond literally in front of her face, obviously having no qualms about, or even knowledge of, personal space. She got especially close with each “huh” she spoke.

“Uh . . . yeah.” Diamond presses a finger to Pinkie Pie's widely grinning face in order to gently push her back a bit. “I was surprised. In fact, very surprised! I still can't believe this is happening!”

Pinkie trembles with giddy glee, looking like she's a volcano that is about to erupt.

“Be that as it may, you are being faced with a choice, young one,” Miss Templeton says seriously. In her mind, she's probably putting the most important reason for this party back on topic. “I need you to understand that staying here as a foster child does not, I repeat, does not void your parent’s custody over you. It does, however, give Miss Sparkle here permission to take care of you pending their desire to reclaim you. Basically, you are still their child who is having an extended stay at a friend’s house.

“If you agree to these terms, then you may stay here for as long as you wish and your parents don't object.

“If you don't sign these papers, however, then we'll quickly need to consider alternative options for you.”

“I've got a pen for you right here!” my mother excitedly points out then hands both the papers and the pen to Diamond while wearing an expression that begs the teenager to sign it, but she is not insisting.

“You don't have to stay with Twilight if you don't want to,” kindly Fluttershy says as she approaches. She is wearing a white, lacy dress from shoulder to her thighs. Like Rarity, she is also wearing a wide sun hat, but no glasses this time. For some reason, she also hands Diamond Tiara a single pink flower, which Diamond accepts with a bit of bewilderment.

“There are plenty of other options besides her,” Fluttershy goes on. “Pretty much any of us would be willing to accept you if you don't want to stay with her.

“But . . . why would you want to reject Twilight? She's more eager than any of us to accept you into her huge heart.

“Oh!” Fluttershy suddenly widens her eyes as if afraid she said something offensive. An oversight she quickly corrects.

“Not that any of us want you any less! Honest! We are all driven to take care of you right now. We want to.”

“But again, why would you want to reject Twilight?” Rainbow Dash asks with a questioning shrug then pointed to our home behind us. “Honestly, she's got a cool place here . . . for an egghead, that is.” She gives an amused grin at my mother as she asks, “Although the electricity bill here must be a nightmare.”

“Well, actually,” my mother adjusts her temporary glasses (while she waits on the repair of her smart glasses) in preparation to give a long-winded speech about how many of her inventions are electrically efficient. She even made other inventions that actually produce energy in various ways.

“I think you'll fit right in with us eggheads,” I quickly tell Diamond in an attempt to cut off my mother's long-winded explanation, though I'm probably only delaying the inevitable. “Besides, this means you'll get to live with me, too, and you know a winner when you see one. You said so yourself not long ago about how you are jealous of my natural talents.

“Well, if you stick with us, I might be able to teach you some tricks that will help close the gap between us.”

Keep your friends close and your enemies closer, as they say!

I look to my left as I notice Mr. and Mrs. Cake each holding one end of a folding table as they carry it into our backyard.

The Cakes pass another couple that lures my attention. Cadence and Shining Armor are also here. That must have been one heck of a drive. They live in the next county over by now.

If they are here, then Flurry Heart should be here too somewhere. She needs to be watched because she's still a toddler.

Looking around, I grow a bit amazed at how many people showed up to this party. I see Sweetie Belle and her parents, Scootaloo, Applebloom, Big Macintosh, Silver Spoon, the young Cake twins playing with . . . Oh, there is Flurry Heart!

The three of them seem to be fascinated with smacking and pulling out grass for some reason. I just hope that they aren't stuffing the grass blades in their mouth. That would be disgusting!

“Where did you all park?” I suddenly ask aloud. “We have a lot of guests here today but I didn't see any of your cars parked out in the streets, so . . .”

I chill suddenly descends down my spine. Startled, I spin about. Doing so causes me to notice Pinkie Pie standing right behind me while staring down at me with a hypercritical look. I swear to God she was not standing behind me a few seconds ago! In fact, wasn't she in front of me just recently?

The look in Pinkie's eyes causes me to imagine that a surrounding environment darkens except for a single illumination under her face. It's probably my imagination, but there is something about the way the shadows seem to stretch up her face.

“Parties . . . are serious . . . business!” Pinkie explains to me in a hard tone while her eyes are wide and her eye pupils are tiny. The creepy expression on her face is giving me goosebumps all over.

“If extra time is required to protect the secret of a surprise party,” Pinkie went on to say then leaned down to peer about seven inches in front of my face, “then we make the time!”

Pinkie's eye pupils doubled in size for two seconds, then shrink, then double again during and after the moment she said the word “make”.

I can't move! I am so scared right now!

“Okay!” Rainbow Dash, to my infinite relief, grabs Pinkie's shoulder and drags her away from my face. “How about we steer out of Creepy Town for a second and head over to . . . oh, I don't know. Want to watch how many times I can bounce a soccer ball off my head, Pinkie Pie?”

After Rainbow Dash asks her pink friend that question, Pinkie seems to visibly reboot like a reset computer. Her eye pupils remain very tiny as she twitches an eye for a brief second. The blank look that claims Pinkie's face seems to indicate she completely forgot what she was doing a few seconds ago. Instead of that, Rainbow's suggestion now dominates Pinkie's mind.

It's as if there is no room in her mind for more than one thought at a time.

“Okay! That sounds like fun!” Pinkie agrees then playfully skips away with her hands diagonally held away from her hips while she sings, “La-la-laaaa!”

I give Rainbow Dash a relieved “I owe you!” sort of look.

Rainbow flashes me a wink before heading off to do as she promised.

You really are awesome, Rainbow Dash!

“Yeah, most of us are parked in a shopping center a few blocks down,” Cadence explains to me. “We took the bus from there. It was only a short hop, skip, and a jump from there.”

“We actually got a new family van, too,” Shining Armor adds while pulling his happy and cuddly wife close to his side. “It's bigger than we need, but we sometimes carpool for other parents and their kids, especially while we head to church.

“You should check it out sometime later.”

“I think I have a few pictures of it now,” Cadence brought up. “You want to see it, Cozy?”

I shake my head at them while I say, “Nah. I'll check it out later.”

“We're actually planning a family road-trip using it next summer,” Shining Armor casually announces. “It's going to be great!”

“And I am the one who recommended the vehicle!” my mother brags smugly while adjusting her glasses. “It has great gas mileage, many safety features, ten-year warranty under two-hundred and fifty thousand miles, aaaaaaaaand it comes with on-star roadside assistance for six months, and only two bits a month after that!”

“Yeah, yeah!” Shining agrees with a roll of his eyes. “It was a good pick, Twillie. I'll give you that.”

“Give me those papers!” Diamond demands as she yanks both of the foster care papers and pen from my mother's hand. “I need someplace sturdy to sign these.”

“We're setting up a good table right now, deary,” Mrs. Cake announces kindly as she finishes setting up the folding table along with her husband.

“That will do,” Diamond agrees as she heads over to them.

“Are you sure this is what you want?” Miss Templeton asks Diamond while Diamond scampers off to the folding table.

“Signing this isn't necessarily committing to anything permanent,” Diamond says back as she puts the papers on the table just when it got set up. Her eyes skim over the papers. She's not really reading it. She's just looking for the places to sign. “Signing this is simply expanding my options. Right now I can use that security.”

My mother and Miss Templeton approach in order to look down at the papers over Diamond Tiara's shoulder. As they watch, I notice my mother starts shaking in building excitement.

Midway through, she gives me a thumbs up and winks at me.

I give a great big happy smile back at my mother, but inwardly I feel a little threatened. For so many years it's been just the two of us, and now I have to share my house, bedroom, and my mother's affection with Diamond Tiara, of all people?

Dang it! Diamond's right! This is all happening so fast.

Even though I saw this coming a week ago, it still feels rushed now that I'm actually witnessing it.

I sigh then look around me, taking stock of what everyone else is doing.

Flurry Heart is still playing with the Cake twins. The three of them are all about the same age, approximately three years old.

As I watch them, Pound Cake unceremoniously dumped a large clump of dirt, with grass still in it, on top of Flurry Heart's head.

In response, both his sister and Flurry Heart clap and giggle to cheer at him for his actions.

Big Mac and Applejack are both going back and forth in order to deliver more party supplies from the kitchen. Food and drinks, in particular. Among that, Big Mac is carrying several stacks of liquids with ease. I happen to know that Applejack can carry quite the payload as well if she has to, especially if she is using magically augmented strength.

Among the items that they are carrying are delicious baked apple pies. I made a note to myself to partake of it shortly.

Applebloom, Sweetie Belle, Scootaloo and Fluttershy gather at the opposite corner from the storage shed. Between all of them is a small bushel of white baby bunnies. Applebloom is attempting to feed the bunnies some baby carrots, but they don't seem interested at the moment.

While that is going on, Sweetie Belle asks Fluttershy how she is doing with her Sweet Feathers animal sanctuary, which I personally know is something of a cross between a zoo, an animal hospital, and a safe area the animals in care there can roam about freely. Originally it got funded by kickstarter for over a quarter of a million bits, but now it's being funded by paying tourists and youtube videos of Fluttershy talking about the various animals in her sanctuary.

Given how painfully shy she is, I know that is very difficult for her, but she presses on anyway for the sake of the animals. I get the feeling that's one of the reasons why her videos end up so successful. I think her audience finds her both adorable and admirable for her bravery.

I also happen to know that Filthy Rich, Diamond's father, is one of Fluttershy's biggest financial backers both during the kickstarter and continued funds since then. Most likely he's doing it for publicity's sake. It also has to do with the fact she's basically a popular superhero. Maybe she saved him at one time.

I have no doubt that Filthy also tried to turn Fluttershy's sanctuary into a business. To a point, he was also successful with that idea. Sweet Feathers is drawing in a respectable number of customers every single year, but Fluttershy was firm about the way the animals are treated as they stay in the sanctuary. Since none of the animals are in cages, alternative methods had to be taken so that the visiting tourists could see the animals without being threatened, or vice versa.

As promised, Rainbow Dash is entertaining Pinkie Pie by bouncing a soccer ball off either her face or her head repeatedly. I hear Pinkie Pie counting up to fifty-eight so far.

Since she is at it, I have a feeling Rainbow has dared herself to break a world record for this activity now. If so, it would be wise for someone to record this soon.

Then again, the footage from some of the cameras set up outside the home may suffice for that.

Eventually I notice something that really focuses my attention. Rarity is standing off by herself, talking to no one. Instead, she is merely looking at the others while sipping on a tall glass of something in a bamboo cup, bamboo straw, and tiny red umbrella in her drink. I calculate a forty-two percent chance that her drink is either tea or something alcoholic. If not either of these, however, then I have no idea.

Considering the unique opportunity, I venture over to her to give her a piece of my mind.

As I approach, Rarity looks reserved at me, but not surprised. I soon realize, as I approach her, that I really am the reason she's standing off by herself for the moment. She is giving me this opportunity to converse with her in private as long as we both keep our voices down.

“Do you still think that I am the one who framed Sunny?” I ask her quietly when I arrive in front of her.

“I don't think so, I know so,” Rarity returns to me with an edge of ice in her voice.

“Why do you think I did it? I love Sunny!” I complain.

“Darling, please! You may dispense with the charade,” Rarity says with a dismissive wave of disdain at me. “I know you did it. All of the evidence points to you.”

“What evidence?” I challenge her.

She raises an eyebrow at me in response to my question as she asks me, “Are you seriously going to continue to pretend that you didn't install that hidden camera in the hallway right in front of the door leading to the basement? A camera that just so happens to be aiming at the digital keypad in order to record the passcode?”

I look down, feeling depressed that she discovered that.

“Or how about the fact that Twilight's machine got smashed to bits from someone who measures at exactly your height?” Rarity goes on. “Every item that got smashed on the machine could only come from someone measuring at your height considering the angle of the damage pattern.

“For that matter, who else would have known that your mother even had such a machine in the basement? That's hardly a public knowledge, darling, so don't insult my intelligence.”

Rarity pauses a moment as she sips her drink.

Meanwhile, in only ten seconds, I come up with one-hundred and fifty-five ways I can murder her without putting too much suspicion on my part.

But I really don't want to. The guilt I feel at framing Sunny is bad enough as it is without stacking yet another crime on top of that.

“So . . . you smash the machine,” Rarity goes on while examining her purple polish and bejeweled finger nails of her right hand. During that time, her left hand continued to hold her cup and drink. “I'm guessing that you used it first. That machine is locked with a passcode, but someone as intelligent, resourceful, and knowledgeable as you probably found a way to bypass that. Once you were in Equestria, I'm guessing you saw something that did not sit right with you. Some information, perhaps, that you felt could threaten your plans, whatever that may be.”

Rarity peers back at me sharply as she went on to say, “As for Sunny, you had to at least take out her laptop because it had the ability to communicate with Equestria which, in turn, would inform any of us if you were seen there, but again . . . who else knew that Sunny's laptop was something special?

“But that wasn't enough, was it, darling? Sunset Shimmer could threaten your plans directly because she had the magical ability to read other people's minds and their recent history. If you had a nefarious scheme that you don't want anyone to know about, then Sunset is a dire threat to your plans.

“I'll admit, I did try to take a quick peek into your computer file system in your room, but even an average user locks their operating system with a passcode. That in itself is not too suspicious, but this,” Rarity pulls out the very same flash drive I used to infect Sunset's computer.

I widen my eyes in astonishment at it. I threw that thing away almost a moon ago!

“Yes,” Rarity agrees, seeming to read my mind. “It wasn't pleasant digging through the trash for this little pup, I can assure you. Sometimes, while investigating a case, we investigators have to do some pretty unpleasant things that's quite unsightly for a proper lady such as myself.”

Rarity fluffs her hair for a moment, then goes on.

“Imagine my surprise, or lack thereof, when I inserted this flash drive on another dummy computer. No hacker worth his or her salt would make the flash drive itself accessible to just anyone, but I clearly know what those scroll bars were meant for during the brief few moments they appeared. I recorded it, after all, and played it back later one frame at a time.

“It was not but one week after Twilight's machine got smashed when Sunny got framed. Coincidence? I think not, darling. Whoever the culprit was wanted to act fast, but waited until the school-wide safety fire drill to make her move.

“Once again, who had access to that kind of knowledge that the event would occur? That was not public information to the rest of the school. Even most of the faculty didn't know that the drill was scheduled for that day.

“So obviously I was dealing with a culprit who had intimate knowledge of Twilight's portal, Sunset's laptop, and the secret fire drill plans. It also had to be someone with expert hacking skills, and she would have to be a genius at it.

“Do you know anyone who is like this, Miss Shadow Queen?”

“Fine!” I growl quietly. “You CAUGHT me! There is just one thing I don't understand.”

“Just one?” Rarity asks in suspicion. “I have quite a few things that I don't understand, darling.”

“If you know all of this, why haven't you turned me into the police yet? You even have a motive; to exonerate Sunset Shimmer.”

Rarity reaches up to slowly pull off her sunglasses. She folds them one stem at a time then slides them into her bejeweled purse. Because she did so, I can see the look of pain on her face far more clearly.

She stares down at the grass in front of and below her at a ninety-degree angle, then she shifts that pained look to my eyes as she explained, “Because Sunset Shimmer swore me to secrecy.”

I widen my eyes at her.

“That's right, darling. She knows too,” Rarity informs me. “She knew before the last moment the cops pushed her out of her classroom.”

I think back to that moment with wide eyes and a blank expression.

I remember the look of pain on Sunset's face before she was led away. She looked like she was convinced that she failed me somehow. I used to think that is because she thought she disappointed me due to being arrested, but if she knew . . . that expression on her face takes on a whole new dimension of meaning.

Princess Twilight said that she told my mother about the history of my pony self. If that's true, did my mother share this secret with Sunset?

For that matter, do all of my mother's magical friends know?

One of them is right in front of me, but I find I don't have the courage to ask her.

Besides, if the answer is no, then I’d end up tipping her off on yet another reason to distrust me. The consequences of that might get very bad considering everything else she’s already figured out about me. Right now Rarity seems content to stay her hand, but I don’t want to feed her any more knowledge that might potentially change that balance.

While thinking abou this, I am reminded that I did not have the courage to open the file I stole from Sunset's computer, either. I still have a copy of it sitting in my computer, but I can't bring myself to open it.

It might also be a curious sense of guilt that kept me from opening that stolen file. At this rate, it might as well not even be on my machine.

“But . . . why would Sunset swear you to secrecy?” I ask as I look back up into Rarity's eyes. “It comes back to the same problem. If I am found guilty, then Sunset goes free.”

“If you think that is what Sunset wants, then you clearly don't know her at all, darling,” Rarity says in disgust. “Sunset has no more desire to see you in jail than you do. She knows you suffered enough.

“Besides, if either of us blow the whistle on your crimes, then it would break your poor mother's heart.”

“My mother doesn't know?” I ask with rising hope.

A cold look sank into Rarity's eyes which evokes a flash of guilt in me.

“No, darling. She does not,” Rarity confirms. “I aim to keep it that way.”

Rarity sighs as she looks away from me. She narrows her eyes, but her face remains pained due to the torment of being stuck between two awful choices.

“So you needn't worry about me,” Rarity expresses to me with a bit of an empty voice. “I won't tell anyone about what I've discovered. Instead, that will be up to you.” Her gaze shifts to me. “Only you can decide how long an innocent woman pays for your crimes.”

Rarity sighs again as she looks forward, then says, “Just . . . do me a favor. Whatever your reason for doing all of this is . . . whatever it is that's in your system . . . just finish what you are after and get it over with, but I also beg you to consider how many good people suffered as it is. If you truly think all of this has been worth it then move forward and don't look back.

“I, ah . . . I gotta go. I can't stand the sight of you right now.”

There is a part of me that panics when I see her walk past me in as much disgust as she is in pain. I actually surprised myself when I called out to her.

“Rarity,” I called to her back. She pauses to listen, but does not look back at me.

I go on.

“Do you really think I'm irredeemably evil?” I ask sadly.

Maybe they are all thinking that. Maybe they have been watching me and judging me all these years. Maybe they were suspicious of me all along because of the crimes of my alternate self in another dimension.

“Why do you ask?” Rarity challenges me, still without looking back at me. “Have you done something recently that causes you to question that?”

I look down in depression. That question honestly stabs me in my heart.

We pass a while in silence, then she finally turns around to face me over her left shoulder. For that, I glance up at her in surprise.

“For the record, the answer to your question is no,” Rarity replies. “On the contrary, I actually think you are a rather good girl at heart who has made some awful choices lately. After all, someone who was truly irredeemably evil wouldn't bother to ask that question at all. She wouldn't care, or she would enjoy it.”

Hope returns to my eyes and voice as I ask her, “Do you really believe that?”

The hope I feel starts to fade when I notice Rarity not answering right away. Instead, she pauses for at least ten seconds before answering as she turns away again, “I have to, darling.”

Rarity walks away, which leaves me with a great empty feeling in my heart.

After that morbid conversation with Rarity, I want to spend some time alone, but fate had other plans for me.

“Look, Honey! Look!” my mother squeals at me excitedly as she quickly dashes up to me and flashes me the foster papers. “It's all signed up, witnessed and certified, so it's official! Diamond is going to be living with us, at least for a while.”

I force a smile to my face. Usually that is pretty easy, but it's never been more difficult for me when I feel the opposite way.

For once, lying is hurting me.

“Gee whiz, Mother! That sure sounds swell!” I cheer for her in a peppy manner. “That's awesome!”

“Oh Cozy!” My mother glomps me. “You're so kind and brave to be willing to share our lives with someone else in need. Also, think of it this way; with Diamond living with us, it will be almost exactly like having a sister! Isn't this great?”

I say, “Sure, Mom,” as I pat her on the back.

Diamond as my sister. Greeeeeeeaaaaaat! You sure know how to rub it in my face, Universe!

“Um . . . listen, Mom. This is great and all, but I kinda need to go to the little ladies room,” I lie with another affectionate pat on her back.

“Oh, sure!” My mother releases me immediately. “Take your time, but be sure to hurry back once you're done. This party is as much for us as it is for her. We're celebrating this together, as a family.”

“Don't worry!” My smile brightens even further as I pat her shoulder.

Meanwhile, inwardly, I feel like I'm popping a blood vessel due to my psychological strain.

“I'll be back as soon as I'm done,” I tell her, but I don't really know if I'm telling the truth.

“Okay!” My mother looks at someone else, then scampers off to brag about her new accomplishment.

My gaze follows her long enough to notice she ran to her sister Cadence and Shining Armor. When I see that, I calculate a seventy percent chance that their parents, Twilight Velvet and Night Light, will also know before the end of the hour.

I shake my head as I look back into the kitchen, which is the entrance to the house from the backyard.

I need some air! I feel like a weight on my lungs is killing me!

I probably need my inhaler soon, too.

I barely take two steps before I am accosted by more unwelcome guests, but they are probably unaware how I feel behind my fake, happy smile.

“Cozy, we want to talk to you!” Scootaloo says to me with a serious voice and expression on her face which causes me to drop my fake smile in seconds.

Applebloom also approaches me beside Scootaloo.

“We’ve all been talking about something as Crusaders,” Applebloom says to me upon arrival.

“We discussed this with Sweetie Belle, too,” Scootaloo adds.

“And we've all been a think'en that we all should invite Button Mash into our next meeting,” says Applebloom.

“You know, since he's in and all about the secret to the Shadow Queen,” says Scootaloo.

“In fact, Button was the first one to blow the whistle on that awful, mean hacker,” says Applebloom.

“That mean old bully needs to be taken down a peg!” Scootaloo says while smacking her right palm with her left fist in front of her chest.

“As president of the Student Council, we know ya ain't look'en too kindly upon cyber bullying at our school,” says Bloom.

“And we also have to rescue Sunset Shimmer!” Scootaloo says passionately.

My gaze whipped back and forth between both of them as they spoke. It is so eerie to me to get confirmation that these two (probably even three if I include Sweetie Belle) are on the same wavelength so much that they finish each other's sentences.

I wonder what that's like.

I lift both of my hands in a halting gesture to forestall any further suggestions from them before they make me any more dizzy and give me whiplash by looking back and forth between them too many times.

“Okay, okay! This sounds pretty swell, but can we talk about this later? Right now we got a housewarming celebration for Diamond, and I also need to go to the little ladies room.”

“Oh, sure!” Scootaloo and Applebloom say simultaneously.

How do they do that?

“When ya gotta go, ya gotta go,” Bloom agrees casually as she hooks her thumbs in two separate belt loops on her jean shorts.

“Sure! Take your time,” Scootaloo agrees. “Applebloom and I will go mingle while you're gone. We'll also propose this idea to Diamond and Silver since they are in the club, too.”

I was about to leave until Scootaloo said that. I hesitate, then look at Scootaloo as she's about to leave.

“Wait! You're going to propose this to Diamond?” I ask Scootaloo in a slight tone of objection.

Both Scootaloo and Applebloom look back at me. It's noteworthy to notice that Scootaloo blinks at me in confusion, but Applebloom narrows her eyes at me with suspicion as if privately asking herself, “Does she know?”

“Why wouldn't we bring this up with Diamond? She's in the club too,” Scootaloo points out innocently. “Just because it's her party right now, doesn't mean she stopped being a Crusader. We think she needs to know.”

“Sweetie Belle said yes to this? You sure?” I check.

Applebloom widens her eyes at me as if she's thinking, “Oh my God! She does know, or at least suspects!”

But Scootaloo looks even more confused.

“First you object with Diamond specifically, and now Sweetie Belle?” Scootaloo turns to face me fully. “Okay, what's going on?”

“I, uh . . .” I hesitate when I see Applebloom give me a quick shushing motion, but she drops her left pointing finger from her lips the instant Scootaloo turns to look at her.

I shake my head. “Never mind. We'll discuss the full details of it later.” I wave them off. “Go ahead and extend this offer to all the rest of the present Crusaders. If we all share a unanimous vote, then we'll definitely at least invite Button to our next meeting. I'm pretty sure I can convince him to come, too.”

In fact, I can convince him in two separate ways.

“Well . . . okay.” Scootaloo still looks a bit confused for two seconds, but then waves me off. “Go ahead and go to the bathroom then quickly come back. We have a lot to discuss.”

“I'm sure we do,” I agree as I focus my attention back to the kitchen.

Alright! No more distractions! I am out of here!

“Cozzzzzzyyyy!” my mother calls behind me.

I felt like screaming, “WHAT?!” but, at the last second, I swallow back my frustration and give a great big, happy fake smile back to her.

“What is it, Mother dearest?” I ask her pleasantly.

Mother waves at me to approach. I'm confused at first until I notice her typing into her cellphone which, apparently, is giving commands to a magnetically hovering drone nearby. It flies back then aims at the back end of the backyard where, apparently, Mother is attempting to get everyone gathered for a group photo.

Damn it! Not NOW! I want to just sink back into my room, lock my door, and cry into my pillow.

But it's my mother requesting this. I cannot let her down.

I inwardly sigh. This is just my luck.

“Um . . . Cozy needs to go to the bathroom,” Applebloom notes to my mother.

“It will just take a few seconds!” my mother says excitedly. “I want to capture this moment! The first moment when my family grew a little more complete.”

“Applebloom, it's okay,” I reassure her.

“You sure?” Applebloom double-checks.

“Yeah. Let's just get this over with,” I say in return, then gather together with the rest of the group.

I'll probably remember this. Remember how much I wanted to cry while forcing a great big, happy smile on my face. Lying has never been more painful to me.

I hope it does not show through on the photo.

“Come on, everyone!” Pinkie Pie cries out enthusiastically in front of us. “I want to see you SMILE!”

Right after Pinkie says that, she traces both pointing fingers at her lips then curves them up her lips into a smile. While doing that, she widens her smile to demonstrate to the others what they should be doing.

Diamond Tiara gathers in front of and slightly to the left of me. I grab her shoulder to get her attention. She turns her head slightly to me and leans back while keeping her gaze directed forward. I lean forward and whisper to her ear a dire warning.

“You better do as she says,” I warn Tiara. “Give Pinkie Pie a great big smile when she requests it, or she'll keep hounding you until you do.”

“Really?” Diamond whispers back to me. “Sounds like an issue worthy of a restraining order.”

“It's got to be a genuine smile, too,” I further warn Diamond. “I don't know how, but somehow she's able to tell.”

Diamond looks a bit spooked, but she nods and says, “Noted.”

Which is a problem for me, actually. I just hope that Pinkie won't double-check mom's photo from the drone too carefully.

For a moment, I try to contemplate reasons to force a real smile to my lips.

Diamond is closer to me. I'll know her intimate secrets more easily than ever, and I won't even need my Shadow Queen persona to pull this off.

It may be an unexpected opportunity, but it does have advantages.

Flash thoughts of Sunset Shimmer still haunt me, however. Sunny should be in this photo as well, standing alongside us.

It would be worth it, too. Her smile is pure radiance!

Just when I think that, I feel an inward glow rise inside me. Again, it feels like my soul is being hugged from within.

“That's right, darling. She knows too,” Rarity had recently informed me. “She knew before the last moment the cops pushed her out of her classroom.”

Sunset Shimmer swore her friend Rarity to secrecy about my involvement in Sunny's arrest.

Not only has Sunny forgiven me for my crimes, she's taking a bullet just to protect my mother and me.

Tears try to creep their way into my eyes because, thinking of this, it makes me feel even more guilty. The more noble I notice Sunny to be, the more awful I feel because of what I've done to her.

That inner warmth in my chest intensifies as if encouraging me to smile brightly for the camera too, even though it is so painfully hard.

In a small way, it almost feels like Sunset Shimmer is standing beside us, at least in spirit.

If there is any way she could do this, I do see the motive.

I struggle to smile brightly for the camera, but a few of my tears do rise to my eyes. At best, I probably manage a bittersweet smile. I just hope the others mistake it for the pain of holding my bladder at bay.

Upon command prompt, most of us yell, “CHEEEEESE!” I think Applebloom and Applejack yell “APPLES” instead, and I definitely heard Pinkie Pie yell, “CUPCAKE FROSTING”.

After taking several photos, my mother checks her phone to review those images. After that, she glances back at me and waves me off as she says, “Go ahead and go to the bathroom, Honey.”

“OOO! Let ME see!” Pinkie Pie says instantly as she swipes Mom's cellphone away from her grasp.

I leave for the kitchen in a hurry before Pinkie has a chance to object to my bittersweet smiles.

I almost make it to the kitchen when someone short grabs my leg.

Oh . . . COME . . . ON! I can't believe this! Can't I just go to the bathroom once without every force in the universe trying to stop me?

When I look down, though, what I see melts away my frustration in an instant.

Flurry Heart is hugging my leg.

“Oh hi there, little one!” I smile at her brightly as I crouch down beside her. “How's my favorite little cousin doing today? Are you enjoying yourself?” I ask her sweetly.

Flurry Heart's stark white face examines me in confusion for some reason, then she reaches a hand forward and places it on my chest.

Then she frowns.

“Owie!” Flurry Heart cries out to me as she looks at me sadly.

I look at her in confusion as I ask, “Why do you say that? Are you in any pain right now?”

“Owie!” Flurry Heart repeats as she taps me over and over again on my chest as if to indicate me.

Plus, the sympathy she gives me in her eyes tells a very clear story.

She knows. She knows I'm in pain right now. I don't know how, but a little three-year-old girl saw right through my fake, practiced smiling mask.

“You know how I feel, don't you?” I ask her solemnly, but also in some amazement.

As if to answer my question, Flurry Heart steps forward and embraces me in a hug. To her, that's the best answer she can think of to comfort someone else from pain.

My eyes are wide open in shock for a moment, then I close them as my face sinks into her tiny little shoulder.

Mmm. She smells good, like sweet roses.

She's a genius too, I realize. Except, while my mind focuses on practical intelligence, her genius focuses more on emotional intelligence.

I'm not bad at reading people either. I can study their vocal patterns and very subtle messages in other people's body language. I determine what others are thinking by psychoanalyzing them, but that only gives me a narrowing list of probabilities.

Flurry Heart does not need that much technical knowledge. She can touch another and simply know exactly how they feel. Most likely, she is feeling it herself with her enormous heart whenever she does that, but somehow she's still able to tell when emotions come from herself or someone else.

She is an empathic genius.

I guess such talent runs in the family, especially among the females.

I hug Flurry Heart close to me like squeezing a tiny toy in my arms. From there, I soak her cute little dress with silent tears
> Chapter Thirty Six: Three Months Later
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Just when I finish my homework for the day, I hear a knock on my door.

“Come in,” I call whomever it is. Based on the sound of the knock, however, I have a pretty firm idea who it is.

“Knock-knock,” Diamond tells me sweetly as she opens the door and pushes it open. “Can I ask you for a favor?”

“Sure.” I turn my chair to fully face towards her. “What's sup?”

Diamond Tiara takes off her smart glasses then waves them towards me as she says, “I can't find my charger for these things. Do you mind if I borrow yours for the moment? You're not using them right now. They should be fully charged in about four hours or so, but mine is running low on thirteen percent battery life left.”

I wave to indicate my charging station on one of my bookshelves as I say, “Sure, you can go ahead and do that, but don't use it as an excuse to be lazy. Find your charger.”

Diamond frowns at me. “I know. I tried to. I practically tore up the whole living room trying to find them.”

As Diamond says that, she deposits her pair of smart glasses on my charging station.

“Have you checked our room?” I inquire of her.

“I was going to do that next,” Diamond assures as she approaches me. “I was simply waiting for you to finish your homework first. I didn't want to distract you.”

I look to my right at my computer screen as I admit, “Well, I am done, but I'd like a few minutes alone, please, to help me unwind.”

“Sure!” Diamond agrees enthusiastically then bends down to hug me. I oblige by leaning forward on my seat so her arms can surround the upper half of my body, but I don't rise from my computer chair.

She gives me a pleasant moan, then says, “Thanks, Sis! You're the best sister anyone can have.”

“Yeah, I know,” I concede in a casual tone of acceptance. “I'm probably spoiling you more than Spoiled Rich ever did.”

Diamond giggles happily, then said, “Ain't that the truth!”

After she finishes hugging me, she happily skips over to the front door to our room. She cheerfully waves goodbye as she starts to shut the door.

She almost closes it but then pauses after recalling something.

“Ooo! I almost forgot!” Diamond opens the door most of the way again as she looks at me while still grasping the doorknob. “Mom wanted me to tell you that dinner is almost ready, so be ready to come to the kitchen soon and join us.”

“Ah . . . sure. How long?” I reply.

Diamond scrunches her face in thought. Still wincing a bit, she said, “Ah . . . I think she said about thirty minutes?”

To confirm, Diamond shuts the door halfway as she calls out loudly, “MOM! DID YOU SAY TO HAVE COZY AND I JOIN YOU FOR DINNER IN ABOUT THIRTY MINUTES?”

“IS COZY ABOUT DONE WITH HER HOMEWORK?” I hear my mother call loudly but from a distance.

“YEAH! SHE JUST TOLD ME THAT SHE'S FINISHED, BUT WANTS A FEW MINUTES TO COOL OFF, I GUESS.”

“ALRIGHT. TELL HER TO JOIN US BETWEEN SIX-THIRTY TO SEVEN'ISH.”

Diamond opens our door fully again and is about to speak, but I lift my left hand to forestall her.

“I heard her,” I assure her. “I'll be down to join you both at the appropriate time.”

Diamond beams at me brightly as she says, “Great! See you then, Sis.”

“See ya,” I return.

Diamond closes my door.

My dim smile towards my door fades.

Sister? Calling my mother our mother? When did this all get so casual?

I turn my head to the left as I look at our bunk bed. Meanwhile, the bed I originally had for six years is stored in the garage in several pieces, ready to be reassembled if need be.

I remind myself that it's been three months since Diamond moved in with Mother and I. During that time, a lot sure has changed.

I lean back in my seat as I look up to the ceiling. Since I am not really looking at the ceiling, I temporarily take off my new smart glasses and set it on my desk without looking.

Actually, those are technically my old pair, but the lens got replaced since they broke.

I try to fathom how, over these past three months, I've grown such a familial attachment to Diamond Tiara, of all people.

Diamond Tiara . . . my nemesis . . . who ruined my life so long ago. Now she, herself, is living with me, and these past three months had more good times than bad, all things considered.

I don't know if it's related to Diamond Tiara moving in with us or the fact that I realized that there is more to my past than I openly recall, but I've changed over these last few months in a way that truly disturbs me.

The first time, that I recall, when I developed a distaste for something I used to be passionate about, lying, occurred just under three months ago during Diamond's house-warming party. Back then, I remember how painful it was to maintain a smile while feeling like I'm breaking inside.

Over the course of the next week, I noticed further evidence of that.

For example, some of my minions reported their success in whatever endeavor I sent them on as the Shadow Queen. A couple of times there I forgot why I sent them on that mission. When I recalled, I beset them on their next mission but my text to them came off as somewhat mechanical because I lost heart in this deception business. Thoughts of Sunset Shimmer kept intruding into my mind, stabbing my heart with guilt.

At one time, before I even started typing a reply to one of my minions as the Shadow Queen, I felt a warm hand pulse on my shoulder. I didn't hear any verbal words directly, but there was an inner feeling of a message that said, “You know, you don't have to do this.”

The message, if indeed it was a message and I'm not just going crazy, did not sound forced or commanding. That came more from the other entity. From Sunset's spirit, however, everything felt gentle and optional. It was more like a reminder of my options.

Regardless of what it was, I lost my heart for this business even further. It just didn't feel fun anymore. I guess that's what happens when victims I personally care about suffer, even if it's from a distance.

Worse, it sort of feels like I'm losing a lot of points of my IQ over these past few months. Pushing my brain to its absolute limit has been much tougher lately. Sometimes I can't even picture a chessboard anymore or I forget where I mentally put the pieces. While struggling to recall, I also forget where I was planning to move them too.

I'm not the only one to notice, either.

At school, instead of seeming to have superhuman intelligence, it seems I've been reduced to merely brilliant. I'm still bright enough to be impressive to others, but now I make mistakes to a human degree.

I find it irksome that many others have regarded me with some relief because of these changes rather than concern. It's as if they appreciate the fact they no longer have to look up to me as if I'm standing on a towering pedestal above them. Instead, they are looking at me as if I'm closer to them now. More relatable and “one of them”, so to speak.

I find this disgusting!

I had big plans! HUGE change-the-world sort of plans. They feel more distant, now, if I become much more “common”.

It's infuriating!

I think the reason most others don't blame me is because they can see what might be causing it, or at least part of the truth. They may even be right. Maybe it is because of all the changes I've gone through and the stress thereof. Even if the changes can be considered good, it's still a major adjustment for me emotionally and that, in turn, can affect my performance mentally.

I hope the councilor is right that this is just a temporary phase. I'd hate to move on with the rest of my life as a common imbecile.

On the plus side, Diamond Tiara has been much better lately. In fact, I'd say her general mood has been way above average. It's as if she's been asleep for years and recently “woke up”. After realizing how long she has been asleep, she seems like she's in a rush to fill in that gap of time by doing all the things she missed over the years.

Diamond and I have done much over these past few months. Most of it was with our fellow Cutie Mark Crusaders.

At first a great deal of our activity was focused on hunting down the identity of “The Shadow Queen” but, since I haven't done as much with that persona lately, the rest of the Crusaders (now including Button Mash), had less evidence to track down.

Eventually I suggested to the rest of the Crusaders that we might have overplayed our hand somehow. Maybe the Shadow Queen is getting suspicious of our activities, or those we don't know about, and decided to lay low to wait out the storm.

That, “unfortunately”, leaves our investigations at a stand-still. While we are eager to help gather evidence to free Sunset Shimmer (including me, in a way), we can't make a move if The Shadow Queen isn't doing anything. The ball is in her court now, and she's not been serving lately.

But there are other activities that continued to have us gather for our little social club.

Button Mash was honest with me that the Shadow Queen wanted him to get cozy with Cozy Glow, but he did surprise me by making some actual moves on me despite openly admitting that.

For example, right after Button Mash just admitted that the Shadow Queen wanted him to gather my trust as Cozy, he reveals that he bought me flowers and chocolate in a red, heart-shaped chocolate box designed for Valentines. I blinked as I asked him why he did that when he just told me what the Shadow Queen's instructions for him was.

He replied by telling me that he didn't need an excuse to enjoy treating a girl out. Since the Shadow Queen ordered him to do something he actually enjoyed for once, he figured he'd go ahead and do it but for his own sake instead of the Shadow Queen’s. He also did it for my sake as Cozy.

I'm not sure if he noticed it, but he got quite the reaction from most of the other girls who observed him openly flirting with me.

Silver was the only one who couldn't care less, but Scootaloo and Applebloom were privately giggling with each other like little girls. Diamond seemed relieved, and Sweetie Belle seemed to have mixed, bittersweet feelings about that.

Button himself was hard to judge. Some part of me can't help but feel like I'm being played, but he honestly seemed too simple of a guy to perform complex plots. Rather than that, Button seemed more like a “what you see is what you get” kind of guy.

Despite my suspicion, I also couldn't reject Button Mash's word. Maybe he really does enjoy seeing a girl's smile with simple but deeply meaningful gifts. If so, what a swell guy!

I lost track of how many times he's honestly surprised me. I'm starting to get used to it.

Oh wow! It's just hitting me, we've been through a lot over these past three months, haven't we?

Mostly due to Sweetie Belle, we've been to karaoke at least once a week.

We've also showed up at a skateboarding park to watch Scootaloo practice. She honestly is good, but the rest of us accomplished little else. With the complex tricks Scootaloo pulled off, the rest of us wouldn't dare to try it, but at least it was entertaining to watch her do it.

We've been to the movies together, to dinners together, at each other's homes at least once except for Silver Spoon's, and we had a picnic out in the park.

Actually, the latter was just Diamond Tiara, Sweetie Belle, Sweetie Belle's parents, and me. I caught Sweetie and Diamond occasionally giving flirting looks to each other, but that went way over the heads of Sweetie's parents.

This was a little over two months ago. Back then, Diamond still ate like a little bird. I'm pretty sure she's not been purging herself in the bathroom anymore, but she still reacted like she's afraid to eat even though the rest of us frequently assured her that she is not fat.

In fact, if anything, she's a little too much on the thin side.

Diamond truly has made a remarkable recovery over these past three months, but some evidence of past trauma still shows through every now and then. Despite being way better off, nobody recovers from something that bad overnight. Likely she will require several years of therapy before fully recovering.

By far, however, her friends have been a huge help.

And yeah . . . I said friends. It's getting a little too hard to resist acknowledging that now.

Some memories stand out as a little more memorable.

For example, that one time the Crusaders went out on a private sailboat out on the ocean to do some whale-watching. Both the boat and the crew who worked on it served Silver Spoon's family. I truly was joking with her when I asked her back then, “What? Just a sailboat? Your family couldn't afford a yacht?”

She shocked me when she replied, “Nah, that's unnecessary. We do have one, but father only pulls it out during very important business meetings.”

Silver Spoon either genuinely didn't notice or entirely ignored my look of shock when she told me her family really does own a private yacht.

My new “sister”, Diamond Tiara, secretly giggled at my reaction.

Looking at Diamond, it occurred to me that Diamond already knew this, but she's distanced herself from high-class society enough recently to find my reaction both understandable and amusing instead of making some cutting jest like she would have back in the old days.

I had calculated a ninety-three percent chance that someone on the boat would stand in at the bow of the ship, lift their arms triumphantly in the air and cry out, “I'M KING OF THE WORLD!”

It did happen, too, except it was Diamond who did that, and she said, “Queen,” not “King.”

Even though I knew the odds were high that someone would do this, I calculated less than seven percent chance that it would be Diamond, of all people. It seemed out of character for her, but lately, she's been thrilled with life!

As she stood there and screamed that declaration, I saw such joy and exuberance in her. Not only is she avoiding suicidal thoughts lately, but now she's thrilled to be alive. By that, I mean really alive.

Back then, for a moment, I smiled at that scene, truly touched by what I witnessed.

But then my smile dropped as I realized I didn't have to wait to move forward with the next phase of my revenge plan for her. I wanted to wait until she was built back up again just so it would hurt that much more to cause her downfall, and now she's ready for the fall. She has picked up. I can move forward with my plans.

Why, oh why, am I hesitating?

Nightmare Night also came and went during these past three months. On Nightmare Night, I dressed as a ninja at the insistance of the rest of my friends. Usually I went with being a fairy, princess, or sorceress, but the others already selected and bought the costume for me then thrust it at me while basically insisting I put it on.

So yeah. That totally happened.

We spent the night at Apple Bloom’s family farm. We did all kinds of things like roam through a “scary” hay maze, bob for apples, treat ourselves to caramel-coated apples, and once rode on the back of a pickup truck, sitting on stacks of hay which we used for seats. In this fashion, we got a moderately slow “ride” around the family farm.

Later that evening, we stayed on the second story of one of their barns with only a lantern, a single flashlight, and technically our cellphone lights (though the latter we didn’t use) to share and illuminate us. At that time, we traded scary stories.

Though I am loath to admit it, the story Scootaloo shared got me pretty good on that night.

Next, my mind shifts to the time we went to a carnival together a little over a week ago.

Of all things, I can't believe that they managed to pressure me to join them on that huge roller coaster! I swear to GOD that the stupid ride ascended above the level of the clouds. Every “click-click-click” sound the thing made deepened my panic. I distinctly remember how much I wanted out of there as that thing ascended.

The rest of that day was pretty fun, though. We got some cotton candy, we played games, and rode lots of other tamer rides. Scootaloo complained about the latter, but she tolerated it in order to “build up my confidence” for the larger rides.

One thing that really got my attention in a surprising way, however, was when I thought I saw Sunset Shimmer several dozen times. Usually it was out of the corner of my eye. I tried to ignore it at first. Even when I finally saw the phantom image straight on, I tried to tell myself that it was another woman who simply resembled Sunset.

But it kept on happening! Even if it was another woman, why would I keep running into her that frequently?

Eventually I decided to confront the situation.

“Excuse me for a moment. I need to check on something,” I told Sweetie Belle while the two of us were standing in line to get some lemonade from a stand.

“Huh? What's sup?” she asked me curiously.	

“I just need to check on something. I'll be right back,” I tell her a little irritably. “You’ll stay here and get the drinks, right? I know you have the money.”

“Sure!” Sweetie accepted cheerfully. “But . . . what are you going to do?”

“Excuse me. I'll be right back.”

I left without further word to forestall any further questions from her.

“OKAY! MEET US BACK AT THE TABLE IF I'M NOT STILL STANDING HERE!” Sweetie called after me as I took off.

I thought I must have been going out of my mind. Surely Sunset couldn't be here, but I had to check just to be sure. I saw her too many times that day.

I looked and looked, but she was nowhere to be found.

I sighed, resolved to conclude that I must have indeed been going nuts.

When I turned around in order to return to the others, I saw her standing behind me.

“Hey, kiddo!” Sunset Shimmer happily greeted me while her hands were in her front black jacket coat pockets. Her elbows hung down loosely in a relaxed fashion.

I couldn't believe my eyes! It was her! I could see her! I could hear her!

She beamed at me rather happily for someone who should be furious at me for sending her to jail.

As if reading my thoughts, she said, “Don't worry! I'm not here to haunt you! Rather, I'm here to cheer you on!”

“Why?” I ask her while scanning the others around me in an attempt to determine if anyone else could see Sunset too.

“Because you're finally outside having fun with friends!” Sunset said encouragingly. “Both your mother and I have tried for years to get you to do this, but neither of us wanted to pressure you too much after all you've been through.”

I noticed that nobody else seemed to be paying Sunset any attention. That might indicate she's only in my head after all, but it's also pretty common for strangers to ignore other strangers.

Sunset's eyes drooped halfway as she confirmed, “Yes, Cozy, I'm not really standing here. At least, not physically.”

“So you're just a figment of my imagination,” I figured as I looked back at her. “Does this mean the other guy is going to start showing up too? The shadowy bad horse?”

Sunset's droll look shifted to sympathetic concern as she answered, “Only if you let him.”

“Huh?” I looked at Sunset in confusion.

“It's up to you to choose which one of us you prefer to listen to,” Sunset reminded. “Today, you favored fun and friendship more than bitter hatred and revenge, so it's easier for me to show up instead of him.”

“Oh. Is that how it works?”

Sunset gave a light shrug. “Pretty much, yeah.

“Oh, and by the way, we're not just a figment of your imagination. You came into contact with Equestrian magic when you fooled with my computer. Notably, my Equestrian magic, and I am good with mind magic.”

“Are you contacting me from jail?” I asked curiously and hopefully.

Sunny shook her head as she said, “Not exactly. I'm more of a mental schism of her. Sort of a mental copy, if you will.”

“Is that what happened to the other guy too? This Dark King?”

Sunny looked grim. “No.

“Well, actually, I don't know. All I do know is he's a very dark presence stemming from my homeworld. I also know he's very bad news. For your own sake, you should ignore him at all costs.

“Also, I get the feeling he's more than he seems. I think he did once exist in my lands but, right now, he's something more than that. He’s somehow part of you now and your history. I can't quite put my finger on it, but I sense something off about him.”

I looked at her somewhat sadly as I said, “I don't know how you can just stand there and talk to me so casually like this! I sent you to jail!”

Finally I got more of a reaction from the strangers around me. A few looked over at me and gave me queer looks because of what I said and the fact that I was apparently talking to nobody.

Sunset placed a hand on her chest as she asked, “What, do you want me to accuse you? To blame you for what happened to me?”

“YES!” I cried out nearly hysterically. “Stop being so nice to me! You're only making this worse for me!”

“And whose fault is that?” Sunset asked me, finally with an accusing look and expression. “Of course I'm hurt that you sent me to jail! I'm your friend, Cozy, whether you choose to believe that or not!

“You're not the only one who has dreams and goals of her own, you know! I had them too!

“I loved you, Cozy! I still do! I did everything I could to help you recover from your tragic past, and this is how you repay me?”

Sunset clenched both of her hands into fist and shook them to her sides as she shouted, “YOU RUINED MY LIFE!!!”

A moment of silence passed between us. During that time, I hung my head in shame and guilt.

“But I still love you!” Sunset promised when she spoke again. “I will always love you, and I will always be your friend . . . because that is what friends do, Cozy! They care for each other, and contrary to what you believe . . . it does not necessarily have to be earned! You always had your mother's love, and mine, from day one!

“I looked into the eyes of this sad and lonely girl and you stole my heart from me ever since then! I promised myself that I would always be with you whenever you need me, and here I stand . . . fulfilling the promise I made in my heart years ago.”

I looked up at Sunset's eyes that shimmered with tears. She stared at me with a look that begged me to understand her desperate feelings. She wanted to reveal, in every possible way she could, that she was being absolutely sincere.

So unlike me, most of the time.

Staring at her as she stood there staring at me with such powerful and rich emotions, tears started to rise to my eyes as well.

“Cozy, I promised you that I would always be there for you when you need me, and I meant that. I will never give up on you. For as long as you need me, I will be here for you. Whatever it takes . . . no matter how much I have to break reality just to be here, I will do so.

“Friendship is magic! I so badly wish you understood the source of my powers!” Sunset said as she placed a hand on her chest for a second again. “Because if you do . . . then you can tap it as well!

“Don't listen to the other guy, Cozy! Use my magic instead! I give it to you freely, and unlike him . . . there are no strings attached, except there is one condition to it . . . to use light magic, you must use the power of friendship. To do that, you need to make friends, obviously.”

She gestured outwardly to where my other companions were.

“And here you are, doing it!” Sunset cheered brightly. “You're here making good memories with your friends. These things strengthen you, Cozy, just as it does to them! Embrace that feeling. Let it become a part of you. If you do, then you, too, can shine with the heart of a rainbow!”

I shook my head in denial as I backed off a step, then I said, “No. This is too good to be true! The real Sunset Shimmer wouldn't forgive me this easily.”

Phantom Sunset sighed sadly as she put her hands back in her jacket pocket.

“If you really believe that, then you don't know me at all!

“Cozy,” her left hand touched her chest again, “I used to be like you! I was a smart student too. A brilliant, gifted student who squandered her gifts and ignored the power of friendship. I even swung the other way, just like you are doing right now, until someone eventually showed me there was a better way to live. I took that offered hand and I've never looked back since, and I am so grateful that I did!” Tears burst from her eyes. “You wouldn't believe how amazing my life turned out ever since! You've lived with me for all these years, and you still don't know how much my heart explodes with joy for every single second that I spent with my friends.

“Many people have asked me how it is that I do what I do. How can I float off the ground and glow with such incredible light? I tried to tell them that it starts HERE!” She placed a hand over her heart. “When the feelings start here . . . it has a way to radiate outwardly.

“You don't even need Equestrian magic to see it! Just look at Diamond Tiara these days! If she had Equestrian magic right now, I guarantee that she'd be able to shine and fly as well!”

Sunset bent down to my eye level.

“Please, Cozy, just give it a try!” Sunset begged me. “You have nothing to lose and everything to gain!”

“Nothing to lose?” I reflect angrily. “You're asking me to give up my revenge against Diamond Tiara, but I can't do that! It's so much a part of who I am!”

“Your past does not define you unless you let it,” Sunset counters evenly as she still stood at eye level to me. “Okay, yes . . . I will admit, I am asking you to give that up . . . but it's not as if you'll get nothing in exchange. If I can encourage you to let go of these ugly, dirty coals, I'll give you diamonds instead!”

“Ooo!” I narrow my eyes at her. “Poor choice of words, Sunset!”

“I know what I said!” Sunset insisted. “I meant every word.

“Where you see an enemy, I see a friend.

“Where you see vengeance, I see redemption.

“Where you see hatred, I see love.

“Where you see guilt, I see a transformation from a caterpillar to a beautiful butterfly, but you have to let go of the old ways first. Trust me, you're only holding yourself back.”

I looked at her more sympathetically while also shaking my head.

“Sorry, Sunset, but I'm in too deep into this. I've built my plan up for years, and I won't abandon it just because you said so. You're just a figment of my imagination anyway. You're just wish fulfillment.”

Sunset stood up straight and looked down at me with an almost condemning look.

“Even if what you say is true and I am just in your head, what does that say about yourself, Cozy? If I'm standing here,” hand on chest again, “it's because some part of you is trying to tell you something. Some important part that you should listen to.”

“ENOUGH of this tripe, figment!”

I walked past phantom Sunset.

“Diamond Tiara is my enemy, and I will destroy her!”

“She doesn't have to be your enemy,” Sunset reminded me from behind.

For a brief moment, for some reason, those words got to me.

I spun about to face her again, but she was gone.
> Chapter Thirty Seven: Falling Apart
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

My vision focuses back to the ceiling in the present. 

I  walk a fine line between hate and love, hero and villain, creation and  destruction. My great talents, ambitions, genius-level calculations,  observation, manipulation, and strategy approach the levels of  perfection, or at least they used to. 

But, for all my logic and countless strategies, it turns out life is a lot more complicated than I anticipated. 

These  past three months have been a great example of that. Really, though,  I've been off my game for a lot longer than that. All the sacrifices it  took to get this far . . . I used to be cool with that, but sacrificing Sunny was like cutting into a major artery in my system. 

Things used to be so much easier when everyone in my life were  just faceless chess pieces on a virtual chessboard, but now I can't  help but imagine their faces. I am lost in their smiles and tears. Maybe  that is why I can't focus on my internal chessboards anymore. 

I look at my computer monitor. Since I currently have the screen off, I see my own reflection better in it despite the black. 

Cozy Glow . . . what have you become? 

You used to be like a goddess among pathetic mortals. A supervillain among weak and pathetic creatures. 

Now look at you! 

Weak! 

Pathetic! 

Sometimes helpless. 

Giggling like an idiot girl. You might as well start blowing bubbles like Derpy because you're just a hair off from becoming her. 

I wouldn't have a problem with any of this as long as it served some greater agenda. I can fake any emotion I want, but genuine feelings are a big no-no. That is poison! It knocks me off my game. 

And, damn it, I've been off my game for quite some time, and I have had enough of it! 

No more distractions! No more delays! 

I  had a goal set out for myself, and I've dragged my feet for too long  after I achieved it. Diamond Tiara is more than ripe for her big fall.  Her tower is built right up again except it now has a massive bomb in  its new core foundation, ME! 

I put on my smart glasses and activate my wrist motion tracking. 

It's  a little too risky to use my computer anymore for my hack jobs when a  new “sister” of mine can barge into our room at any time, so I'll need  to hide my work more carefully even when I'm home. 

First thing’s first. To unravel Little Miss Prissy's new network of friends, I'll start with the most fundamental one, Sweetie Belle. 

I'm  sorry, Button Mash, but Sweets has become too instrumental to my plans.  Not only is she a source of Diamond's support, but she's the only one  that took it to the next level. If I'm going to destroy Diamond, I have to attack her greatest support beam. 



The Shadow Queen: Hello, Clarice! We meet at last. 



I tap my foot as I wait for Sweetie Belle's response from her cellphone. Since this is the first time I'm contacting Sweetie using this identity, I'm not sure how long it will take her to respond. 

It turns out its twelve seconds. 



Sweetie: wat do U want? 



Hmm.  I am used to chicken scratches from various people's text responses,  but at least she has the courtesy to end her sentence with punctuation.  Good girl! 



Sweetie: y u bother me? What did I do to you? 



I frown as I read that virtual text. I can feel her fear and pain through that text, and it is stabbing me in the heart a bit. 

Man, I'm losing my touch! See, this is what happens when I get too “cozy” with my god damn minions! 



The  Shadow Queen: You know why, or at least you should. You've gotten  awfully chummy with a certain target of mine, and THAT is going to stop. 

The Shadow Queen: Take a look at this. 



I send her a link in the next text. Within it, it has a bunch of videos and pictures of Sweetie Belle and Diamond getting very chummy with each other. 

In  every instance that I have observed, Diamond is the one putting the  moves on Sweetie. For quite a while, Sweetie was merely reacting to this  confusing thing happening to her, but lately she seems to melt with  pleasure into it more. It seems to me Sweetie was on the fence with this  one for quite some time, but she recently started to embrace it more.  Maybe she even asked for it. I'm not sure. I am not constantly spying on  her. 

They know about my “Eye in the Sky” drone, too. I hope Sweetie doesn't make that connection. Sweetie Belle can be pretty academically  smart as long as she's not too emotionally distraught, but she seems  quite naive other than that. I may have severely underestimated Rarity,  but I still truly don't think Sweetie is wise enough to connect all the  dots. 

At least, not on her own. 

I rub my lips with a finger. 

Risky. Very  risky. My game has been much more challenging lately. I'm out of touch  with many of my minions, and there are a lot of holes in my knowledge  accordingly. Usually I have a much more solid plan than this, but today  this feels like a guided shot in the dark. 

Damn. I hate to think it's pure emotion that's causing me to rush this, but I honestly can't reject that possibility. 

I'm human too, as much as I hate to admit it. 



Sweetie: u ben SPYING on us? 



I grin at her response slightly. 



The  Shadow Queen: I do, indeed, keep close tabs on targets of interest, and  I'm fully aware of your merry little band, too. I've pulled the strings  of your “precious” Cutie Mark Crusaders from the very beginning. 

Sweetie: wat do u want from me? 



Straight to the point. I like it. 

In  fact, I prefer it. Of all the minions I've attempted to toy with,  Sweetie feels among the most innocent. I really don't enjoy toying with  her, so I will indeed get straight to the point. 



The  Shadow Queen: Very well, Sweetie, I'll cut right to the chase with you.  I DEMAND you break up with Diamond Tiara, or I'll destroy you both! 

The  Shadow Queen: I also want you to convince her that you've changed your  mind regarding her. That you can't go on being so close to her. 

The Shadow Queen: Tell her that you'd rather see someone else right now. Button Mash, for example. 



I wait quite a while for her to respond. I figured it would take quite some time. She has to process and internally digest my request. I know it won't be easy for her, but I'm giving her no choice. 



Sweetie: y r u so mean to me? 

Sweetie: wat did I ever do to u? 



Again, I frown. I hate hurting Sweetie like this. She's such a nice girl, even to me. 

But this is necessary to advance my revenge plot. We both have to bite the bullet on this one. 



The Shadow Queen: You personally did nothing against me specifically other than getting close to persons of interest. 

The Shadow Queen: That's the FIRST thing I intend to change. 

The Shadow Queen: Break it off with Diamond. That's an ORDER from your Queen! 



I thin  my lips. Am I pushing this too hard? Maybe I don't have enough leverage  on her to get her to cooperate. Usually I feel more prepared. 



Sweetie: u'r not MY queen! 

Sweetie: I'd nver obey som1 as EVIL as u! 

Sweetie: u hurt my dear friend shimmy too! 

Sweetie: I will NEVER forgive you for that! 



I frown. 



The Shadow Queen: I'm not asking for your forgiveness. Instead, I am DEMANDING your obedience. 

The Shadow Queen: Break it off with Diamond, and make sure it HURTS her! 

Sweetie: NOOOOOO!!!!!!!!! 

The Shadow Queen: Do it, or I'll expose you both! 



I let that hang for a moment, then press on. 



The Shadow Queen: Do you think you can live with that, Sweetie Belle? 

The Shadow Queen: Imagine it, everyone at school talking about you and Diamond. 

The  Shadow Queen: Every girl in the locker room will be afraid to associate  with you both because they'll fear you'll hit on THEM, too! 

The Shadow Queen: But they won't just ignore you! Oh no! Those are only the NICE ones, like you! 

The  Shadow Queen: Some don't run in the fight or flight response. Some will  instead choose to ATTACK, and they'll do it constantly! 

The Shadow Queen: And it won't be just YOU! Diamond Tiara will also suffer the same fate. 

The Shadow Queen: Can you live with that, Sweetie Belle? 

The Shadow Queen: If you cooperate with me, at least you'll restrict the damage to only Tiara. Why must you both suffer instead? 



I pause for five seconds. After that, I was going to type something else but Sweetie beat me to it. 



Sweetie: B'cuz, {diamond emoji} is my friend! 

Sweetie: anything u do to her, you do to ME too! 

Sweetie: THAT'S how friendship WORKS! Not that a MONSTER like you could ever understand! 



I notice how she's using full sentences now. She's really taking the time to make her message clear. 

As for what she's saying, I feel stunned! 



Sweetie: My sister, Rarity, will expose you! 

Sweetie: Even if she doesn't, my friends and I will! 



I narrow my eyes at her virtual text, then quickly type. 



The Shadow Queen: You overestimate your sister AND your merry little band! 

The Shadow Queen: I have you BOTH right where I want you, in my little pocket. 



It only takes four seconds for Sweetie to respond. 



Sweetie: LIAR!!!! LIIIIIIIIIAAAARRR!!! 

Sweetie: MY SISTER WOULD NEVER WORK 4 SOMEONE AS EVIL AS YOU! 

Sweetie: My sister is a hero! 

Sweetie: She has STOPPED villains like you many times b 4, and she will do it again! 

The Shadow Queen: Villain and hero are just a label the winners of any story get to choose at their own discretion. 

The Shadow Queen: I couldn't care LESS about how you judge me! 



Now that is a bald-faced lie! 

Even a painful one. 



The Shadow Queen: All I need to know is are you in, or out? 



Ultimatum delivered. Now I'll just have to see how Sweetie responds. 

Quite a while passes in silence. After thirty seconds, I test the waters again. 



The Shadow Queen: Sweetie? 



But immediately I get a message that the other user is offline. 

I widen my eyes in disbelief at this. 

That little BITCH! She hung up on me! I can't believe it! 

Wow! I guess I didn't know Sweetie as well as I thought I did. I'm so used to her honey that I couldn't imagine the vinegar she could also offer. 

I  review the text messages we sent to each other as I try to calculate  her mindset and intentions. In the end, I hate to admit it, but it looks  like she's leaning against betraying Diamond, even though her loyalty will cost them both. 

No! NOOOOOOOO! 

I put my glasses back on my desk then rub my face. 

Damn it, I was bluffing! I really do  have the leverage to destroy them both, but using it against Sweetie . .  . I'm not sure if my heart can take it, even if it also means  condemning Diamond. I was really counting on Sweetie's cooperation so I  wouldn't have to hurt her too! 

Damn it! That “friendship” issue really is a nasty problem for me! 

I hate to admit it, but I've underestimated it too many times. 

How  many flaws have piled up over these past few months? The mistakes,  miscalculations, and errors seem tangled now. I don't know how to  unravel it anymore. I don't even know where to start. 

How did this happen? Where exactly did everything first go wrong? 

As I think back on it carefully, it occurs to me that the first thing to go wrong seems to be the day Princess Twilight paid us a visit. 

But, in actuality, that wasn't the first trigger event that caused my downfall. 

No. 

It  was Ghost's message that he successfully got the flash drive that I  requested. Right after that, everything seemed to go downhill for me. 

I can't believe it! My plans used to be so perfect! So flawless! I carefully eliminated all traces of evidence leading back to me. I even had contingency plans as a backup to every move I ever had, including the less than nefarious ones. 

But these days . . . everything seems to be falling apart! 

I slowly release a deep breath. 

I don't know. 

I don't know what to do anymore. This mess is just too tangled now. 

I  feel so helpless, like the frightened little girl I was in some of my  dreams (more often lately) and how I used to be in my past. 

Well . . . if worse comes to worst, I need to prepare myself to confess everything, especially  to my mom! She, above all, is among those I least wish to hurt. If it  turns out I can't avoid that, then the least I can do is go out on my  terms. 

I  turn on my computer screen again in preparation to make a video log.  While I do that, I hope to God neither Diamond nor my mother eavesdrop  on what I'm about to make. 

At least, not yet. 




* * * 



 


“ATTENTION! ATTENTION EVERYONE! CAN I HAVE YOUR ATTENTION?” Sweetie Belle boldly cries out in front of my History class. 

I look at her in shock. 

What are you up to, Sweetie Belle? 

Sweetie fully faces towards our very old professor, Cranky Doodle, and bows to him a bit, Japanese style. 

“I'm sorry for the interruption, Professor, but I have something important that I need to get off my chest!” Sweetie both apologizes and explains.	 

Cranky  grumbles in a “cranky” way, but waves her off to continue as he says,  “Oh, FINE! Just make it quick. I have a class to run, kid!” 

“Thank you, Professor! That means a lot to me,” Sweetie replies to the professor before turning to face us.  I notice her face burning crimson with embarrassment. Her eyes squeeze  shut tight and her face cringes hard. When I see it, I feel a lump get  stuck in my throat. 

I have a bad feeling about this! 

Sweetie Belle opens her eyes, and I feel hurt to see tears in her eyes. 

“I . . . have a confession to make,” Sweetie began. She takes a deep breath. She speaks fairly quickly  when she begins again as if in a rush to get this painful experience  over with. “I've been blackmailed by someone calling herself the Shadow  Queen!” 

I  hear gasps of astonishment from several dozen students in my classroom.  I happen to know that they recognize the name because I've secretly  blackmailed them, too! 

“She  asked me to betray one of my dearest friends!” Sweetie goes on as tears  now stream from her face. “But I can't do it! I can't betray one of my  friends! 

“The  Shadow Queen threatened to expose Diamond and me with pictures of . . .  well . . .” She takes a deep breath, releases it, and declares, “Well,  there is no easy way for me to say it, so I'll just say it. 

“Diamond Tiara and I are a couple! I’m in love with her.” 

More gasps of astonishment sweep the room, but a few do so in recognition. After all, they are among the minions who took those pictures in the first place! 

Eyes  wide with astonishment, Cranky seems to numbly press a button on the  computer to his desk. Shortly later, my mother speaks from his computer. 

“Yes? What can I do for you, Cranky?” my mother asks with her usual pleasant demeanor. 

“You need to get into my classroom right away!” Cranky demands of her. 

“Really? What's wrong?” my mother asks in sudden concern. 

“NOW, Miss Sparkle!” Cranky demands again. He lifts his finger off the button then nods at Sweetie to continue. 

Sweetie nods in acknowledgment to Cranky then bravely, and tearfully, faces us again. 

Meanwhile, I am so stunned that I can't think straight. 

“Somehow . . . the Shadow Queen has pictures and videos of Diamond and me kissing and . . . touching . . . each other.” 

Sweetie's face burns cherry red. 

“She promised to expose that evidence to the whole school if I didn't cooperate, but . . . I can't! I can't  betray my friend, even if it means also hurting me! So . . . if this is  going to come out anyway, then I'll confess this on my own terms. I  will not be a slave to evil! I will not allow this diabolical villain to hurt anyone else!” 

She places a hand on her chest as she admits, “This hurts me . . . so much to admit all of this, but I am strong! I am a brave girl, and I refuse to take a knee to evil. 

“So . . . there you have it. Everything I am laid bare. I just hope that you can forgive me for being myself. I never meant for any of this to happen but I had to do my best to support her! 

“As  most of you know, Diamond's mother wasn't the nicest lady. She made  Diamond feel so bad that it nearly drove my friend to suicide. 

“When… When I first kissed her, she almost rebelled but then… then she didn’t. She kissed me back. 

“As for me, I was confused about my own feelings for so long. Even when I started to acknowledge how good it felt to kiss her, part of me still felt a little guilty and torn. I really  had to ask myself a lot of hard questions lately, and the answers I got  are something I'm not entirely comfortable admitting yet but . . . the  Shadow Queen gave me no choice.” 

Sweetie  pauses when she hears someone gasping and racing down the school  hallway. Shortly later, my mother bursts into the room. She pants so  hard that she has trouble talking. She even falls to a knee since her  body is so starved for oxygen. 

“I . . . came here . . . as swiftly . . . as I could!” my mother struggles to say between her pants. “What . . . What’s up?” 

“I was just busy telling everyone that Diamond and I are dating,”  Sweetie reports to my mother. For some reason, she did it more easily  to my mother than the rest of the classroom, most likely because this is  the second time. “A cyberbully by the name of the Shadow Queen  threatened to expose Diamond and I with pictures of this if I don't  betray her, but I refuse to cave to evil, and I will never hurt Diamond, so I confessed everything myself.” 

“WHAT?!” My mother gasps in shock. “You too?!” 

“And  me!” a boy named Crinkle confesses as he stands up straight. “The  Shadow Queen threatened me too! The only difference between Sweetie and I  is I was a coward.” He looks at Sweetie squarely. “Sweetie, it was I  who took those pictures. At least . . . some of them. The Shadow Queen  somehow found out that some of our financial backers in our Kickstarter campaign came from illegal sources. If she exposed them, it could have threatened our project . . . but I really should have taken your feelings into consideration too. 

“Sweetie Belle, I'm so sorry for what I've done to you! Can you ever forgive me?” 

“I  was threatened too!” a girl named Candid spoke up. “Somehow she found  out that I've cheated on a bunch of my tests. She threatened to expose  me unless I report to her some of my accomplices in my classroom,  presumably so she could persuade them to do her dirty work, too.” 

Over  the next several minutes, several dozen of my other minions confess  their crimes too. While that happens, the only thought that’s circling in my mind is, “What is going ON?!” 

“Really? All of you have been bullied by this person?” my mother asks in shock, then suddenly looks very guilty. “I've been a terrible principal! I should have noticed and acted upon this sooner!” 

“You're  not to blame, Miss Sparkle!” Sweetie Belle assures my mother  cheerfully. “You did everything you could. These secrets have been  boiling for a very long time because everyone was good at hiding them, but your kindness and compassion have shone through in so many ways! 

“For example, the way you raised your daughter to be a strong, kind, smart, and morally upstanding woman . . . she inspired me to be brave!” 

I widen my eyes at these words. 

Oh, you have got to be SHITTING ME! 

Sweetie Belle skips over to me happily and takes both of my hands into hers. 

“Thank  you, Cozy Glow, for all that you have given us!” Sweetie tells me  proudly and happily. “If it weren't for your strength, I never  would have had the courage to stand up in front of everyone and confess  everything. You did it every day that you stood up in front of everyone  during your campaign run as Student Council President. I can assure you  that I voted for you!” 

Many others in the classroom echo that declaration. 

“And you have been an amazing friend over these past few months!” Sweetie goes on brightly. “Thank you! THANK you from the bottom of my heart!” 

“Oh Cozy! I'm so proud!” my mother declares as she sniffs and wipes tears from under her glasses. 

WHAT THE HELL IS HAPPENING IN MY LIFE!!!???
> Chapter Thirty Eight: Family Buisness
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Oh my God!” I exclaim.

“What?” my mother, the driver of the car Diamond and I are in on our way home from school, asks me in concern.

“Mom, check out that white limo parked on the sidewalk in front of our house!” I tell her.

“Oh! I see it!” our mother exclaims in shock. “I wonder who that could be?”

I close my eyes halfway as I say, “I am not wondering.

“In fact, he's long overdue.

“Diamond,” I tell my “sister” over my left shoulder, who is sitting behind me and to my left, behind the driver's seat. “This may be particularly noteworthy to you. That's your father's limo, isn't it?”

“Well, um . . . I'm not sure,” Diamond says a little lamely. I also see and hear confusion and nervousness in her. “Drive to the front of it, Mom. Is there bull horns at the front of the limo?”

“I was about to swing in front of it anyway to park this car,” our mother noted then proceeded to do so.

In fact, she parked in a very specific spot. There are inward grooves in the driveway to make sure to guide the car to stop on that spot. Once she finishes that, we all look to our right and a bit behind us at the limo.

Sure enough, the limo does indeed have bull horns ahead of the front radiator of the limo. The tips of those horns are white but with a brown base. The horns curve diagonally forward and up, but the tips of the horns curve away from each other.

“Yeah,” Diamond laments as she looks down sadly. “That most likely is my father's limo.”

“Diamond, Honey, you don't want to see your father?” our mother asks her in surprise. “If you want, I can talk to him instead.”

A disturbing thought occurs to our mom.

“Honey, he didn't abuse you too, did he?” our mother checks in concern.

Diamond shook her head as she said, “No, he didn't abuse me per se. He just wasn't there for most of my life. He was too busy elsewhere making our family more money.”

Diamond looks at our mother and tells her, “I'm not afraid of him, if that's what you are asking. I'm willing to see him, too.”

“But you don't sound excited,” our mother noted while still looking back at Diamond using the center rearview mirror. “You even seem disappointed.”

Diamond gives our mother a helpless shrug as she says, “To be honest, I don't know what to feel about the guy. I barely know him.”

“I'm sure he came here to see you,” our mother points out.

“Quite likely because of the fiasco with his wife,” I add grimly. “She's been quite the embarrassment in the family lately, and she put some legal and financial strain on the Rich family as well.”

“Then why is he here talking to me instead of his lawyers?” Diamond wonders.

“That might explain his delay,” I theorize.

“I can talk with him instead if you want me to,” our mother reminds Diamond.

“No. That's okay. Let's just get this over with,” Diamond says with a sigh. She  groans as she opens up the rear passenger door. We all follow suit a moment later.

Before our mom walks around her car, she clicks something with a remote she has on her keys. One of the buttons locks the car. Another button activates a device built within the driveway, and this is the reason the car has to be parked at a very specific spot.

A hole opens up near the left rear of the car. A tube lifts up from that hole which ejects a robotic arm. That arm reaches forward to open the hatch leading to the socket of mom's electric car. Once it is open, the robotic arm plugs itself into the socket then proceeds to recharge the car.

Meanwhile, a middle-aged male limo driver gets out of the car then walks near the back of it to open a passenger-side door facing towards our home. From there, Diamond Tiara's father, Filthy Rich, emerges from the limo.

Filthy Rich is a moderately tall man. He has deep brown skin and smooth dark hair which is short and mostly concealed under his cowboy hat. His face is wearing his age a bit, causing his cheeks to sag slightly. He also wears a white leather coat jacket that is open at the front. A button-up dress shirt is beneath that. He has a bolo tie at his neck. His fancy-looking jean pants are secured with a square silver buckle that has a money sign on it (I figure it is mostly his Horse-Land cutie mark). He wears what looks like snakeskin cowboy boots. I see a hint of a golden wristwatch under the leather jacket sleeve.

Filthy Rich spares a brief moment to nod to his limo driver for opening the door for him while he grabs the front edges of his jacket and hangs his elbows low. Shortly after that, his eyes scan among us and, quite predictably, settle on Diamond Tiara the longest.

I quickly look back and forth between them to gather as much information about their early reactions to each other.

Diamond can't seem to meet the gaze of her father. I judge her reaction to not be embarrassment or shame, but rather that of quiet anger.

Filthy Rich, on the other hand, looks eager and concerned at his daughter. I also see hints of pain at her reaction, but he hides it pretty well.

Filthy quickly redirects his attention towards my mother. Not only that, but he approaches her until he stands just ahead of her.

“It's a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance, Miss Sparkle,” Filthy Rich greets upon arrival. “I do believe we have not been formally introduced.”

“Formally? I suppose not,” our mother agrees as she adjusts her smart glasses on her face for a brief moment. “But I've seen you plenty of times before. I believe the first time I saw you was at Camp Everfree almost fifteen years ago.”

Filthy blushes in a bit of embarrassment. “Well, I hope we can put that nasty business behind us,” he requests. “Except that I would like to thank you for you and your friends raising the funds to save the camp. I do declare that I did not expect that at the time but, in hindsight, I'm glad you did. I had other plans for the camp, I must admit, but I'm an alumni of that camp as well. I do suppose that what I would have replaced at that camp might have been financially successful, but hardly a replacement for its sentimental value. One cannot put a price tag on that, now can we?”

“Um . . . no,” our mother shyly agrees as she claps her hands and hangs them low in front of her short, form-hugging business skirt. “I suppose one can not.”

“But that is neither here nor there,” Filthy goes on in a dismissive way. “All of that business is in the past.

“Rather than that, I'm more interested in our current dilemma. One which I feel that we need to discuss further.

“Please, Miss Sparkle,” he gestures to the front entrance of our house, “would you be so kind as to offer me admittance to your fair place of residence here?”

“Um,” our mother hesitates to answer as she quickly checks on Diamond again.

Diamond, for her part, is still pretty much staring at her feet, unwilling to look her father in the eyes yet, but our mother notices that she didn't openly object to the suggestion.

Based on what our mother says next, I take it that she takes it as a moderately positive sign from Diamond, or at least not a negative sign.

“Sure,” our mother agrees as she looks back at Filthy. “You may come into our home.”

After a moment, our mother nods to Filthy more confidently.

“You're probably right,” our mother agrees. “I think we do have much to discuss.”

Filthy gestures to our front door again as he says, “After you, Miss Sparkle. Ladies first, I always say.”

* * *




Shortly after sitting down, Filthy Rich gives an odd look to an apparently floating television screen with robotic arms that serves him a cup of tea.

“Ah . . . thank you?” he asks the floating droid, then looks at our mother a bit more confidently. “Thank you for the tea and inviting me into your home, and say . . . nice, um . . . contraption you have here,” he says as he regards the floating droid again a bit guardedly.

“Either of you girls want something?” our mother offers from the main armchair of the living room.

Both Diamond and I reject our mother's offer while we sit on the same couch along with Filthy. I take up one end of the couch, Diamond sits in the middle, and her father takes up the last seat at the other end.

Filthy Rich's interested gaze follows the floating droid until it veers out of sight into our kitchen, then he looks at our mother with an impressed expression.

“I must say, Miss Sparkle, you do have a fascinating home. I heard that you invented some of these machines yourself. Do you have a patent on them, perchance?”

“Some of them, yes,” I answer in my mother's stead. “Some are also pending.”

“Well,” Filthy raises an eyebrow at me for a moment then passes that same look to our mother, “when that goes through, you and I should do some more business together. With inventions of this caliber of quality, I'd be a fool not to attempt to partner with you on this.”

Our mother lifts up her saucer with a teacup on it daintily as she says to Filthy, “Be that as it may, I don't think you came here to discuss that business with me today, have you?” our mother asks Filthy seriously, trying to cut straight to the chase, probably for Diamond's sake.

Filthy Rich sighs, then admits, “This much is true, Miss Sparkle, but first thing is first.

“First of all,” he sets his tea aside on a table beside him then looks back at our mother while placing his cowboy hat on his chest. “I need to thank you, Miss Sparkle, from the bottom of my heart for taking care of my most cherished possession. You have done me a great service for taking care of my daughter in her time of need. I wish to assure you that I will never forget it.”

Our mother brightens a bit as she responds, “Oh, it's been my pleasure to take care of her.”

“I sincerely agree,” Filthy replies. “I can just tell by the look on your face, the way you speak, and the way you carry yourself that this has not been a burden on you, but rather a privilege. I must say, knowing that touches my heart even more deeply, and for that I can't possibly thank you enough, but if you don't mind . . . I will spend the rest of my days trying to repay you for this.”

Our mother's pleased look shifts to worry. She stares at Filthy with that expression for four quiet seconds. After that, she set her own cup of tea aside then decides to address her main concern.

“If you don't mind, I must ask you,” our mother looks at Filthy squarely, “is it your intention to assume direct custody of Diamond?”

Filthy sighs as he regards our mother with a bit of regret, then says, “You don't beat around the bush that much, do you, Miss Sparkle?”

“Sometimes I do,” our mother replies. “I would even say I usually do, but this issue is very dear to my heart. I want to get it over with so I know where we all stand.”

Filthy puts his hat aside as he says, “I can sympathize with that remark. Forgive me if I find your candor rather blunt, Miss Sparkle, but in some ways . . . and indeed, many ways . . . I also consider it quite refreshing.

“For you see, for years I've danced a courtship with many of my fellow businessmen. Very often we don't cut straight to the chase, instead preferring to test the waters a bit before making a firm commitment. After all, millions . . . sometimes billions of bits can be on the line, so we prefer to get to know our potential business partners well before cutting to brass tacks.

“This isn't always the case, however, for a businessman understands that time is money. It isn't always baseball games, yacht rides, golf courses, or dinner meetings, much like a romantic date. Sometimes it's just, 'Sign here. Dot there. Put an X there, and . . . there you go.' We shake hands, and business is concluded.”

“I don't think she wants to know more about the way you conduct business, Father,” Diamond says in minor annoyance as she stares forward at nobody. “And for the record, I'm not some commodity to be bought and sold.”

Filthy Rich winces at her words, but tells her frankly, “Nobody said you are, my treasure, but I do think there is room here for negotiation so that all parties involved can walk away from this meeting satisfied.”

Filthy whips his head to look back at our mother as he quickly adds to that, “I want to make something perfectly clear to you, Miss Sparkle, and everyone else involved in this room. I have absolutely no intention to force your hand into anything. I'm not planning to make any official moves until I first establish what exactly we all want here. For the moment, I do not see a reason I need to rush anything. I'm sure this situation has been plenty stressful enough, and I, for one, have no intention to add to that burden.

“More to the contrary, in fact. It is rather my hope to cause some relief to the situation, and I,” he gestures to his chest, “am a man with quite a few resources, and I have every intention to use whatever is in my power to make this whole situation better.

“So let me be the first to dispel any illusions you have that I'm going to force you to give up custody of my daughter right away. Instead of that, it is rather my intention to facilitate a smooth transaction, if indeed one is necessary.”

“But you do eventually wish to assume full custody?” our mother asks Filthy with worry.

“That depends,” Filthy answers.

“On what?” our mother reflects.

Filthy shrugs as he says, “On what we all want.”

Filthy gestures to himself as he says, “For my part, what I want is to be a part of my daughter’s life again. The situation I'm going through with Spoiled has been a rude wake-up call for me. It caused me to realize that I've put my faith in the wrong people, and I also feel somewhat at fault for this whole darn nasty situation.”

He looks at his daughter and resumes speaking, except to her this time.

“I've recently come to an epiphany in my life that I've put all of my financial businesses first far ahead of my family, and I don't like it. I don't like the man that looks at me in the mirror anymore.

“I used to be proud of that reflection. I used to straighten my shirt and tie, figuratively and literally speaking, as I venture out into shark-infested waters in order to make more money, but recently it's come to my attention that all that time and effort has come at a cost and I'm so ashamed that I didn't even realize it.

“While I was out there making enough money to buy frivolous things for you, me, and my whole family, I was losing the thing that matters to me the most at the same time.

“Diamond, please look at me!”

A little reluctantly, she eventually does.

When she does, her father goes on with his speech.

“The day you were born,” Filthy begins but scrunches his face in a bit of pain. At first I thought it was emotional pain, and it probably is to some extent, but then I observe him pounding at his chest with a fist to clear some bubbles from his lungs. When he burbs it out, he begins again.

“Sorry, and excuse me.

“As I was saying, the day you were born, you made me feel like the richest man in the world. My Diamond in the ruff was at last bequeathed to me. You are a treasure so sacred to me that no price tag could possibly be put on you. You are immeasurable; beyond the value of any count. When I inherited you, I felt like I had inherited the earth and beyond.

“Diamond, when you came into my life and I held you in my arms for the first time . . . for a brief moment, my purpose in life suddenly felt clear! I used to think that earning money was my true calling in life. After that, I still felt it was important to earn money, but the reason changed forever on. From that day on, it no longer became my mission to acquire money for myself, it became my mission to repay you as much as I could in sheer gratitude that you have come into my life.

“The day you were born and I held you is the day I also realized that I am a father! I really don't know how you're ever going to possibly know the honor I felt on that day until you become a mother someday. That is, if you choose to become one someday. If you do, then you might gain some glimmer of an idea how I felt when I first held you. I won't pressure you into anything but I hope you do know this experience someday just so that you can get a hint of what it once felt like for me, because I can say with all conviction that the day you were born changed my life forever.

“I know that, at first, it does not seem like it's true from the outside if you examine the totality of my life, but I did change in a profound and permanent way . . . in here.” He gestures to his heart with both hands.

“You have a funny way of showing it,” Diamond accuses with a frown. “Your frequent absence advertises your love to me very poorly. That's ironic considering your last name.”

“That's one thing I plan to change,” Filthy promises. “I don't know how I didn't see it before, but I want to be a part of your life from now on. I feel like I missed so much of it already. Practically your entire childhood, but I still hold out hope. Adult years far outlast the test of time compared to childhood years. There is more of that to look forward to if you will have me.

“Diamond, my dearest treasure, even if I did force you to be a part of my life again, I only would have legal authority over you for a few short years. The same thing would happen if I left you with Miss Sparkle. She, too, only has a few years where she has authority over you. Very soon you'll be an adult woman who can decide things for yourself, and that is why I'm reaching towards you as both a fellow adult and as a parent. Since I know neither of us,” he wags his finger back and forth between himself and our mother, “can force you into anything for long, I'd rather give you this power just in the hopes that I can earn your trust and love again.

“For you see, my treasure, I have to proceed with this relationship with an eye to the future. I don't want a prisoner or a slave. What I want is my daughter to choose to be a part of my life by offering the same in return. I may not have as much experience with fatherhood as I'd care to admit, but I understand that a healthy business relationship involves an equal give and take, and I think family runs on similar core principles except the true currency of family is love.

“Spoiled Rich, unfortunately, never understood that.”

“Why did you marry that . . .” I almost say bitch, but I manage to stop myself and instead say instead, “nasty woman?”

Filthy sighs as he pulls his hat to his chest and nervously pinches the edges of his hat. His fingers seem to crawl along the edges of his hat as it slowly rotates in his fingers.

“Spoiled and I came to a sort of business relationship,” Filthy answers. “She was part of a business deal that I'd prefer not to go into too much detail about.”

Filthy looks at me.

“She wasn't as wealthy as me. Not by a long shot, but as a business partner . . . she came with extra benefits, if you know what I mean.”

“I know how sex works,” I reply a bit tiredly. “I haven't experienced it yet, but I know the mechanics of it.”

“Spoiled and I kind of got thrust together,” Filthy explains. “We simply made the best out of our situation as we could.

“Especially me. I developed very real and deep feelings for her. So much so that I probably blinded myself to some of her negative qualities. Even very obvious negative qualities. I guess I was desperately trying to convince myself that things could work out between us, and for a while it did.

“For most of our relationship together, our marriage was quite traditional. I'd go out of the house and be the primary breadwinner, and she'd stay behind and manage the affairs of the home.

“Although, to be honest, I would have been mostly fine either way, but she had strong traditional values. The way our relationship worked out was mostly her idea.

“Image is everything to Spoiled. Although she kind of resembles a housewife, she takes care of the home more by bossing our maids and butlers around rather than doing the work herself. Instead of that, most of her true efforts were spent on social pursuits. She was the one arranging meetings with wealthy business tycoons in order to suck up to them.

“Basically, she was the one who'd first introduce a potential new business partner, then she'd leave me to close the deal. She dealt with the social stuff, and I did the logistical stuff. That was our deal, and for a long while . . . it seemed to work out very well between Spoiled and I.

“But I loved her. I truly loved her. After all, she wasn't just the woman in my life and a symbol of status accordingly, but she was the mother of my only child, one of the greatest gifts I ever inherited on this earth. You can't imagine how grateful I was to her for that.

“But recently I learned that she also spent most of her time abusing my greatest treasure. The treachery I feel for that cuts so deep. It's quite ironic that the very reason I fell in love with her is also the reason I fell out of love with her.

“In fact, Diamond,” he waits until he has her attention, then he says, “you need to know that, in light of the situation I've learned about and how she treated you, I have filed for a divorce from her.”

Diamond gives a blank stare. The room hangs silent for quite a while, broken first by me.

“How's she taking it?” I ask Filthy curiously.

“With a disgusting amount of aloofness,” Filthy answers, “although that might be just a social mask. I've known her well enough to know she can be quite good at hiding her true feelings, but what she hides might be far less than I originally thought. I don't know how such a frozen heart can beat inside her chest enough to keep her alive.

“She seems to just shrug this off but, in a way, she's looking forward to this because, according to our marriage contract, she'll assume half of my assets upon our divorce. Maybe even more than half, if she has her way.”

“You should fight it!” our mother encourages him in anger. “She doesn't deserve anything from you after what she's done to Diamond! I'm pretty sure the jury would agree with you.”

“I . . . I could, but honestly, I don't care as much as I used to,” Filthy says in an empty and defeated way. “All of this fortune is simply a reminder of what I gave up to attain it. I'm willing to give her anything she wants just to get rid of her except for one thing. If Spoiled Rich tries to sue for custody of Diamond Tiara, then that is the one thing I'll fight like hell to prevent.”

I almost ask him if that is exactly what Spoiled intends to do, but my mother beats me to it.

“Is that something Spoiled intends?” our mother asks quickly with sharp worry.

He seems to age in depression as he shakes his head.

“No. Fortunately and unfortunately, she's all too willing to give up custody over Diamond.

“On the one hand, I am relieved that I don't have to fight her over this point.

“On the other hand, I am disgusted and appalled how easily she's giving up what I consider to be this world's greatest treasure. She's throwing away Diamond as if she's nothing more than a worthless hunk of coal. It's hard to describe how much I hate her for observing this. Our minds might think kind of similar, but our hearts seem to be direct opposites on this point.”

I notice a brief wince of pain on Diamond Tiara's face, but she quickly tries to squash it down.

Glancing at Mom, I notice her regarding Diamond with a look of sympathy and pain. Seeing that touches my heart despite where my mother's affections are directed.

“Well, it's good to hear that at least she's not going to be trouble for us when it comes to Diamond,” our mother says in consolation as she looks back at Filthy. “That's the most important thing here. Diamond is the one I care about the most in this situation.”

“I know,” Filthy acknowledges gratefully. “Which is why I think you'd make an excellent surrogate mother for Diamond. I'd even be willing to pay you.”

“Pay me?” our mother winces in disgust. “No! If anything, I'd pay you for the privilege of allowing me to take care of your daughter. I love her, Sir, and I'll do anything I can to protect and provide for her in every possible way I can.”

“She is not kidding,” I concur.

I notice Diamond's chin wrinkle with emotion. Perhaps it is a bit of pain, but mostly it's out of happiness this time.

I think her father notices that, too.

“Before we finalize any decision,” Filthy interjects with a raised hand, “there is one thing I want to know.” The hand he raises then points at Diamond beside her. “Diamond, my treasure, what exactly do you want for your future? Do you wish to come live with me, stay with Miss Sparkle, or somehow both of us?”

“Are you seriously asking me?” Diamond asked with surprise towards her father.

“I warned you that this might happen someday,” I remind Diamond just to taunt her.

“Yes, of course you did,” Diamond sneers with a brief glance to me. “You're very smart, so you can predict almost anything.”

Almost is right.

I inwardly lament how that pattern is getting more and more broken lately.

“Yes, of course I'm asking you,” Filthy confirms. He even seems offended and hurt at his daughter's surprise over that. “You'll be turning eighteen in a few months anyway, so you might as well get used to making decisions for yourself.”

“My birth mother never said that to me!” Diamond informs her father firmly.

For a moment, intense rage seems to seek deep into Filthy's eyes and facial expression, but he forces himself calm a moment later as he regards his daughter again.

“What she said to you no longer matters,” Filthy replies firmly to his daughter. “She might not have cared about your independence, but I do, and I'm your father! It's my right and my job to care about your feelings and your future. I'm not asking you but rather telling you that your wants and desires in this issue matter because I will make sure that, no matter what you say, it will affect the final outcome.

“I owe you that much, my precious little girl, so please tell us all what you want.”

The room grows silent as everyone waits for Diamond's reply.

For her part, she seems to seriously be thinking over all of her options. She especially glances several times at our mother. Our mother, in return, regards Diamond very openly and eagerly. Our mother's love and concern is so very apparent. One could feel it across the room.

Diamond's eyes water a bit as she smiles happily at our mother for that, and finally she says, “I so wish that you had been my true mother all along. As it stands, I don't want things to change between us unless we have an opportunity to get closer.

“I've never known, until I came to live in this house, what feeling wealthy is like. All the money and stuff in the world cannot replace the love from a truly caring woman. You nurture my mind, body, and soul to levels I had never dreamed of before. I didn't even know how to imagine such a scenario as this because it's so utterly foreign to my previous life experience.

“If things were up to me, I'd want you to become my true mother . . . for real.”

Diamond regards me.

“Besides, if I lived here, I'd get another very pleasant bonus.

“During a time when I felt like a lifeless and broken doll, Cozy Glow reached a hand down to me and not only picked me up from out of the gutters, but raised me up high! She has inspired me, empowered me, and made me feel whole again. I don't just regard her as a friend, I easily see her as a beloved sister.

“I used to hate you, Cozy Glow!” Diamond went on.

Back at you, BITCH!

“I hated you because I was jealous of you.”

Again, ditto.

Though I have to admit, I don't feel as jealous of you lately now that I more fully understand the price of the power you used to have.

“You used to be another source of my woes and a reminder of how worthless I was until I realized how much you cared for me and also taught me that, in many ways, for every quality that I used to be jealous about you, I could instead become that which I envied.

“You taught me that I am beautiful, and smart, and charismatic, and worthy of loving friends and family. You taught me that I don't need to fight so hard to win the approval of those who truly care for me for who I am! You taught me that it's not just okay to be myself, but also wonderful!

“I want you to know that you, Cozy Glow, and all of my new friends are the reason I am alive today. Not just alive, but I thrive! I am now as grateful to be alive as I used to dread it.”

Real tears rise to my eyes. All of my anger and bitterness towards Diamond is still there, but it's mixed with so much more emotion now, not all of it negative.

In fact, I'd even go as far as to say that most of my emotions towards Diamond are now positive, and that makes me feel like a monumental failure.

Because I grew to care for my greatest enemy, I am now disgusted and revile myself.

Thanks a lot, Diamond Tiara! Yet another casualty of war lies at your feet.

“As for you, Father,” Diamond looks back at him, “my feelings to you are largely neutral, but leaning on anger and disappointment. You helped to give birth to me but . . . beyond that . . . I don't know what else to feel towards you.

“When I look at you now, I remember the bitterness and disappointment of my early childhood as I wished for years that you were there. In my darkest hours when I felt weak and vulnerable, you weren't there to protect me.”

Those words stabbed into Filthy Rich's heart. Although his face was still directed at Diamond, he closes his eyes and wrinkles his face in pure pain. It's far too intense for him to try to conceal it anymore.

“But I am stronger now, Father, so I don't need you to protect me anymore,” Diamond goes on.

Since Filthy is in too much pain to speak, he merely nods in understanding.

But he pops his eyes open, stunned, when he feels her reach her hand out to embrace his.

“Instead of that,” Diamond resumes after a rather lengthy and highly emotional pause, “I want you in my life.”

Filthy regards her in stunned surprise, but it quickly shifts to tearful hope.

“I may not need you to protect me anymore, but I could use you to improve my mood when I am well,” Diamond explains. “From now on, if you want me to love you and forgive you, then simply be there in my life. Give me a reason and excuse to look forward to seeing you every day. I want you to encourage me to say to myself, 'I'm looking forward to what this day will bring me because my dad wants to be there for me and help me to be happier.' If you can do that, then your mere presence alone is enough.

“I don't want money.

“I don't want fame.

“I don't want meaningless social tripe anymore.

“What I want . . . is you!

	“I want my father. I want you to actually be there for once and truly feel like a part of my life.

“So now I will reflect back the question you just gave me: What do you want to do?”

Filthy Rich needs some time to compose himself enough to speak, and then he does.

“Right now, I'll settle for a hug,” he requests.

Surprisingly, Diamond hesitates as she seems to think it over, then she says after a shrug, “Well, since you're finally making an attempt to reach out to me, I'll toss you this bone.

“Here.”

Diamond Tiara crawls into her father's arms in order to give him a warm and tender hug, which he gladly returns.

Hearing my mother sniffle draws my attention to her. I see her wipe happy tears from her eyes as she beholds this loving scene.

That's so like her. Scenes of love and friendship always seemed to have a profound effect upon her for as long as I have known her. Even fictional characters tend to drive her to tears.

“Thank you, my treasure,” Filthy Rich says with a shaky voice. “I promise you, I'll do everything I can from now on to be a source of your happiness rather than an empty source of bitterness.”

“Telling me that is a great start, Father,” Diamond replies. She sounds much more composed, but her emotions affect her vocal cords a bit. “As long as you keep on polishing me, I'll be the brightest, shiniest, and most sparkly Diamond in the world!”
> Chapter Thirty Nine: The Final Blunder
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

I  rest my head in my left hand while my elbow rests on the arm of my  computer chair. Meanwhile I am reaching my right hand forward as I use  the mouse to sift through e-mail after e-mail filled to the brim with  flaming letters railing hard against the Shadow Queen. These are supposed to  be mission reports on objectives I gave them earlier, only now they've  turned into statements that basically are telling me that they quit,  that they've already confessed the information I had over them, and for  me to basically go to hell. 

So . . . let me get all of this straight. 

I  set up this grandiose network of minions just to cause the downfall of  Diamond Tiara only to discover that she basically already caused her own  downfall. So, before I can extract my true revenge against her, I have to  build her up first. I succeed with that objective, perhaps even too  well, only to find out that I've now lost my means to attack her. 

What  the hell happened? For every day that she got stronger, I strangely  grew weaker in every possible way. My minions have turned on me and I  have even gotten dumber over these past few months. Still bright enough  to be impressive, but nowhere near as jaw-dropping as a supervillain. 

I sigh deeply as I lean back in my seat, now resting my right arm on my chair as well. 

All  of this has been strangely felicitous. Diamond Tiara truly is my foil.  She is my human counterpart that is both similar and opposite to me in  just the right ways. The one person I've targeted and revolved so much  of my life around has become too identifiable. I had once set myself on a  course to understand her and I might have succeeded too well. 

So  much of my current situation reminds me of a stage play I've seen many  years ago back at the orphanage. It was part of a charity event to help  entertain the kids, but the show they presented wasn't one I would have  expected back then. 

The show was called, “Two Stupid to be Villains,” and the usage of the word meaning the number “two” instead of “too” was no accident. 

The premise is about a pair of bumbling thieves who try to do something evil but they are so stupid and incompetent at their job that they accidentally end up as heroes. 

The  tone of the play was largely slapstick physical comedy reminiscent of  “The Three Stooges,” which did well to hide the darker undertones of the  plan of a greater villain that the idiot thieves ruined. 

Back then, I used to find the play so amusing, but now . . . it feels too familiar. 

How did all this happen? How have my resources and my mental acuity decayed so rapidly these past few months? 



Dark King: Do you really have to ask yourself that? 



I blink at the unexpected text message and window that pops up on my computer screen without warning. 



Dark King: I've been trying to warn you about this since the beginning. 

Dark King: You grew too emotionally attached to your target in addition to another threat that you should have carelessly discarded. 

Dark King: I WARNED you! 



I roll my eyes then start to reach forward to the keyboard in order to respond. 



Dark King: Don't bother! 

Dark King: You do not have to resort to such primitive tools in order to communicate with me. 

Dark King: In fact, you don't even have to speak at all. Just “think” aloud to me, and I will hear it. 



I lean back in my seat again and raise an eyebrow at this. 

So, you really are in my head? I think aloud to the entity. 



Dark King: One would think we were well past this. 



This is certainly interesting. I'm seeing text messages pop up on my computer that are responding to my very thoughts. How spooky. 

Of course, maybe there isn't truly any text popping up on my computer. Perhaps this is just another hallucination. 



Dark King: You disgust me! 



There is a five-second pause before the next message pops up on my screen. 



Dark King: You used to be so impressive. I even thought you had the potential to be my long sought after Queen. 

Dark King: But  ever since I first started to observe you, you've only made one stupid  mistake after another, and all over some pathetic woman! 



If I disgust you, does that mean you'll finally go away and leave me alone? 



Dark King: No. Of course not. 

Dark King: My plans for you may have altered a bit, but that doesn't mean I've abandoned them entirely. 



If I lost your respect, what other plans could you possibly have for me? 



Dark King: I still need slaves. That has never changed. 

Dark King: But for you, I have even greater plans. 



I raise an eyebrow at my computer screen as I think aloud, Care to share those plans with the rest of the class? 



Dark King: What fun is there in that? 

Dark King: There is so much more fear to be garnered in mystery. 

Dark King: One can draw in so much more terror from that which is unknown. 

Dark King: That said, it should be obvious. 

Dark King: At least it would have been if you still had your wits about you. 



I sigh as I shake my head. 

I know. These days I've even grown to be disgusted at myself. I used to be so powerful. So perfect, but lately everything has fallen apart. 

My  nemesis, Diamond Tiara, is closer than ever before. I know intimate  details about her life now, and she trusts me . . . just as I had once  planned years ago. 

But now many of my minions have turned on me. This can't all be my fault. 



Dark King: Isn't it? 

Dark King: Who inspired them to develop a backbone in the first place? 

Dark King: Who danced and sang “pretty” little songs with them? 

Dark King: Who reached down and picked up her nemesis from the dirt and grime? 

Dark King: You might as well have been there with her in the shower itself, working like a pathetic serf to scrub off all of her dirt. 

Dark King: And for all of your efforts, who got dirty as a result of all of this work? 



I know! I KNOW! 

I cover my face with my hands to hide my shame. 

Everything has been going downhill since . . . God, I don't even know anymore. 

I lost my PARENTS because of her, and now I have to share my new mother? 

Worse, she's starting to recover a bit of her old family relationship on top of that! That's something I've never done! My birth parents have still never contacted me. 



“'Where you only see a threat, I see opportunity!'” I hear a menacing multi-voice speak out in my room. 

Startled,  I lower my hands from my face and peer back at my computer screen.  There I see, not the text message window anymore, but a faint image of a  dark cloud with menacing red and green glowing eyes giving me an icy  stare. 

That same entity that I had in my nightmares several months ago. 

“I actually respected you when you first told me that,” the Dark King went on. “I  could forgive such brazen boldness from you while addressing a KING  with such disrespect, but you said it with such calculating genius that I  could not help but admire. 

“In that moment, you reminded me of myself. In some ways, you even surpassed my intellect. 

“But look at you now! WEAK! PATHETIC! Clinging tightly to her skirt like a frightened and frustrated little girl. This is not at all the formidable monster I first got introduced to.” 

“SHUT UP!” I screech aloud as I slam a hand on my computer desk. “You have no right to judge me!” 

The Dark King narrows his eyes at me as he says, “Use your mind, you simpering dolt, or have you grown so dull that you don't even know how to think anymore? 

“Need I remind you that, if you speak aloud, there are others that might hear you in this household?” 

You don't know what I've been through! How much Sunset Shimmer meant to me! She's one of several that pulled me out of the gutter. I owed her more than you can possibly imagine, and I repaid all of her kindness with treachery. 

“Exactly, because she was a threat,” the Dark King argued. “If she wasn't that, if she truly was a harmless target, then I'd look down upon you for attacking her indiscriminately. All of our victims should have a reason and purpose to be destroyed. Without that, it's just a meaningless expenditure of resources. 

“But Sunset Shimmer was a threat, wasn't she? Princess Twilight could have warned her about your transgressions in my home world, so you took care of that threat. You destroyed the portal to prevent both crossings and communication. That was an efficient response given the circumstances. 

“But  even without the portal or its communication method, Sunset herself was  a threat directly. One touch from her while she used her magic crystal  and it's all over. 

“Believe  me when I say I know something about crystal and mind magic. There can  indeed be a lot of power with that kind of knowledge and resources. 

“You did what had to be done. If you had just left it at that, you would have still been on track with your revenge course. 

“But noooooooo!  You had to bring your disgusting human feelings and emotions into this.  That didn't just sidetrack you, you totally smashed the tracks with a  maul. You have nobody to blame but yourself. I even tried to warn you on  multiple occasions.” 

Why? I narrow my eyes at him. What do you get out of all of this? If I assume, for a moment, that you are not just a product of my imagination and that there is something going on that involves Horse-Land magic . . . then what exactly do you gain by trying to help me? 

“I respect the fact that you distrust me. We think alike in that regard. 

“As for what I would have and will gain . . . you'll see . . . in due time. 

“Right now, however, that's neither here nor there. The important question is how are you going to put your agendas back on track?” 

Do you have a suggestion? 

The Dark King narrows his eyes at me again, but this time accompanied by a sinister smile. 

“Of course  I do! If you really wish to ruin Diamond Tiara, then you must attack  her heart! Use the knowledge you have fought to gain. What is Diamond  Tiara's greatest fear?” 

Going back to her mother, I mentally answered. Losing her new friends. 

The Dark King tilts his head a bit as he said, “Those are fair assessments, but you need to look deeper! 

“Betrayal is what she fears! Betrayal by the very sources of her newfound strength. In other words . . . you, but you are not the only source of her strength. Besides, you don't want to overplay your hoof just yet. Save that card for your final reveal. 

“I've been on the receiving end of that disgusting power of friendship more than once, and believe me when I say it leaves a bitter aftertaste. 

“However,  I also happen to know that it is also a source of strength that has  weaknesses. If 'friendship' is the power which she now draws upon, then that is what you must attack! 

“Make her friends betray her . . . exactly how you originally planned! 

“You might be a simpleton now, but you can at least remember your old plans back when you were brilliant, correct? Then you already have your blueprints! All you need to do is follow them.” 

How? Using what resources? 

“I'll  admit, your resources might be damaged for the time being, but they are  not completely without value. What this situation requires is  precision. STRIKE HARD at just the right targets. Attack the support  beams that hold up this house of cards. Every structure must have a foundation.” 

I think hard on this for a moment, then widen my eyes at the phantom image of the Dark King on the computer screen. 

Sweetie Belle! I think with triumphant realization. Diamond now loves Sweetie Belle! 

“That's it!” The Dark King agrees with me encouragingly. “But you already tried to attack that support beam, and she was the first to resist you. 

“However,  there is more than one path line into her heart. As a fellow  'emotional' creature, you should know there is more than one heartstring  you can exploit. As you said once to yourself, no past relationship  ever truly closes.” 

I look at my cellphone as I think back to Button Mash. 

“You know what you must do,” the Dark King tells me encouragingly before fading away on my computer screen. 

Button  Mash . . . right. Sweetie's old former boyfriend. That might not have  ever been official, but those two still had feelings for each other  once. I'm not a fool enough to believe that it only went one way, even  if Sweetie recently came out of the closet enough to express her  interest in another girl. Not every relationship can be dropped that  easily. Life is never that easy. 

I should know. 

I  lean back into my seat and twist both of my wrists hard to activate  both motion tracking devices. I then call up a virtual keyboard in my  smart glasses and use its connection to my cellphone to contact Button  Mash before I lose my nerve. 



The Shadow Queen: How about you, Button? Have you forsaken your Queen too? You know what the penalty would be. 

The Shadow Queen: Most of the others have some selfish goal to protect, but not you. 

The Shadow Queen: Your actions are for the sake of protecting another. 



Button: I wont agree 2 anyting yet, {butt emoji} I'll hear u out 



The Shadow Queen: I only have one request, and believe it or not, it is my LAST request. 

The Shadow Queen: As you have surmised, Diamond is, and always was, my true objective. 

The Shadow Queen: But I'm not going to demand you to attack her directly. 

The Shadow Queen: Instead, I'm redirecting your attention to another. 

The Shadow Queen: I  want you to regain Sweetie Belle's affections. Get her attention again,  but this time, I want you to secure it so hard that you'll pull her  away from Diamond. 

Button: so let me get dis strate u want me to be {bell emoji} boyfriend again I thot u wanted me to focus on cozy 

The Shadow Queen: Cozy's network is just a bit too secure for us to attack right now. 

The Shadow Queen: Whatever plans I have against her, I'm sure she'd think at least ten steps ahead of me. 



That comment made me inwardly giggle. 



The Shadow Queen: With her, I need to be patient and strategic. 

The Shadow Queen: To get to Cozy, I have to weaken her resources first. 

The Shadow Queen: That's where Diamond comes in. Diamond is Cozy's rook. 

The Shadow Queen: To get to Diamond, I have to get to Sweetie Belle. 

The Shadow Queen: and to get to Sweetie Belle, I need to get to you. 

The Shadow Queen: You see how all this works out? 

Button: so 2 be clear u dont want me 2 focus on cozy anymore 

The Shadow Queen: I'm sorry to burst your bubble, Romeo. Cozy is still a target, but not a priority at the moment. 

The Shadow Queen: I DO plan to attack her too, but only when I am able. 

The Shadow Queen: Can you do this? Can I count on you? Or must dear old mom AND Sweetie Belle pay the price for your defiance? 



I wait ten seconds until Button finally responds. When he does, it is not in the way I hope or anticipate. 



Button: I been waiting a long time to say this to you. Go to HELL, your “Majesty”! 



For  several reasons, I blink in surprise at that. Not only because of the  defiance, but also because, for once, Button made a proper sentence  using text message. 



Button: You tried to threaten Sweetie Belle! 

Button: I WARNED you to keep her out of this! 

Button: She was brave and stood up to your tyranny. 

Button: so I will do no less 

The Shadow Queen: But if you cooperate with me, you'll get what you truly want, Sweetie Belle! 

Button: shes NOT som prize 2 be 1. all I want is for {bell emoji} 2 be happy 

Button: 4 me tat is enof 



I gasp at his text in shock while thinking, “Dammit! Not you too!” 

There has got to be some way through this! I'm so close to victory. I can smell it. I can taste  it! Working with my broken resources now is like trying to hold my  balance on shifting sand, but just because it's a challenge does not  mean the effort is not worth it. Not when I've come this far and made it  this close. 



The Shadow Queen: You TOLD me that you confessed your feelings for her! 

The Shadow Queen: She turned you down back then, but that does not negate the single most important truth here. 

The Shadow Queen: You had feelings for her! Admit it! If you help me, you can finally secure what you want! 



This time it takes Button fifteen seconds to respond. 



Button: wat makes u tink I still want {bell emoji} u told me to go after cozy and I did 

Button: I like her now so FUCK OFF! 

Button: she and I have somting specal 2gether 

Button: she dold me wat women want that men coud not figure out 

Button: dey dont like to be pappered women want to be independent 



What?! That is the opposite of what I said to him! 



The Shadow Queen: You idiot! I TOLD you that they want constant REASSURANCE! 

The Shadow Queen: No matter how strong and independent they wish to SEEM, they always eat that shit up! 

The Shadow Queen: So Sweetie must feel the same way. 

The Shadow Queen: Tell Sweetie how you really feel and that will get her attention. 

The Shadow Queen: If you play your cards right, you can win Sweetie's heart. 

The Shadow Queen: As far as YOU'RE concerned, my true motives in this affair doesn't matter! 

The Shadow Queen: If Sweetie is an attainable goal, then isn't working with me worth it at any price? 



This time I wait thirty seconds for him to respond before I lose my patience and prompt him first. 



The Shadow Queen: SAY SOMETHING, DAMMIT! 



About ten seconds later he finally does respond. Until that moment, I feared he hung up on me, too. 



Button: I don't belive it i didnt want 2 belive it 

Button: {butt emoji} i gess its true 

Button: I cant deny it anymore 



I narrow my eyes at the virtual text window displayed in my glasses, then type out a message. 



The Shadow Queen: WHAT don't you believe? Oh, and it's spelled “believe”, asshole! Not “belive”. 



Five seconds pass. 



Button: Cozy glow 

Button: it really was you all along 



My heart skips a beat as I stare at his text, stunned. 



The Shadow Queen: What nonsense are you talking about now? 

Button: im talking abot the fact that U R cozy glow! 



I narrow my eyes at his text. 



The  Shadow Queen: You mistake ME for that little bug? I texted YOU while  you were talking to her. You were standing right in FRONT of her! How  can I be her? 

Button: bekauz I turned my phone off when I had a privat confosatien wit her 

Button: I did hat becaz she asked me 2 

Button: and u just told me something hat only she should know 

Button: I told nobody else about my confession to {bell emoji} 



Wait, what? Is that true? 

I think back. 

Damn,  that was many months ago. I've been through a lot since then, and  organization has not been at my finest since that time. During that  time, I had to keep track of so much information which included  information to Cozy, information to the Shadow Queen, and emotional  information to and from both sources. After this long, it's hard to  separate all of these facts. 

But . . . it does  make sense. Information this personal Button wouldn't just confess to  anyone, especially someone as sketchy as the Shadow Queen. 

Wait! Now I remember! 

Yes. We were at the side of the gym. I told him to go there so we could  “hatch a scheme” against the Shadow Queen. I successfully manipulated  him into thinking me and the Shadow Queen are not one and the same, or so I thought. 

Another piece of information that came up was when I asked why Sweetie Belle and him weren't an item anymore. They used to be so close, so what changed? 

Button told me the answer, but it turns out he only told Cozy that answer. 

Oh SHIT!!! I just made a HUGE mistake! 

God fucking damn it! One-hundred and ninety-seven IQ my ass! These days I'm operating more like I have a seven IQ! 

Think, Cozy! Think! If there was ever a time I needed to use what's left of my pathetic brainpower, now is that time! How can I fix this epic blunder? 



Button: u wre ther all along 

Button: pulling are strings like popets from dhe shadows 

Button: u had us all fooled 

Button: the shadow queen was right in frotn of us the hole time 

Button: y cozy 

Button: y u do tat 2 {sun emoji} 



I grasp my cellphone in quaking hands, then I chuck it using all my strength at my vanity mirror across the room. 

I  get out of my chair so fast that it thrusts several feet behind me. I  then spend the next several minutes screeching at the top of my lungs  while thrashing about randomly, knocking over items from my bookshelf,  everything on top of my makeup station, and tear out items from my  clothes drawer in a fit of overwhelming rage. 

Until my mother checks on me in my room. 

“COZY GLOW, HONEY, WHAT'S WRONG?!” my mother asks me frantically when she bursts into my room. 

I  sink down to the floor with my back against my drawer that formerly had  my clothes in it, and my makeup station on top of that. On the floor, I  pull my knees close to my face and weep into them. 

“Honey, what's wrong?” my mother repeats me in concern as she sinks down beside me and pulls me close for a sideways hug. “Tell me what's wrong!” 

I can't speak. All I manage to do is shake my head. 

“Is she okay?” I hear Diamond ask in concern. It sounds like she's speaking beyond the entrance to our shared room. 

“No, she's not,” my mother answers. 

“Wah . . . well . . . is there anything I can do to help?” Diamond asks in further concern. 

“I  don't think so,” my mother guesses with uncertainty. “Just . . . be  here with us. That's all you can do with your fellow sister until-” 

“NOOOOO!” I screech passionately! “I DON'T want her in here right now, Mom!” 

Although I can't see them because my face is buried in my pulled-up knees, I still feel sudden tension in my mother as she freezes up beside me with unexpected and unwelcome shock. 

“Um . . . I guess . . . wait in the living room for us, Honey,” our mother requests of Diamond. 

“What did I do?!” Diamond asks in a tone of objection. 

What did you DO?! 

Oh, I don't know. How about RUINING MY GODDAMN LIFE!!! 

“Probably  nothing,” our mother answers Diamond. “But this is apparently a  sensitive issue. Please do as I have instructed. I'll take care of  this.” 

There is a moment of hesitation before Diamond answers, “Okay.” After that, I hear her move away slowly. 

I shiver with pain, rage, and confusion. 

I thought my mother would interrogate me about what was bothering me, but instead she hugged me tightly from the side, rocked back and forth with me in her arms, and sang to me a tender lullaby. 

“You are my sunshiiiiiiiine 

My only sunshiiiiiiiiine 

You make me happyyyyyyyyyy 

When skies are greyyyyyyyyyyyyy 

You’ll never know, deeeeeeeeeear 

How much I love yoooooooooooou 

Please don’t taaaaaaaaaaaaaake my sunshiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiine awaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay.” 

I melt into her arms. 

With her, at least, everything feels right in the world. 

I feel safe in her arms, even if it's only for a moment.
> Chapter Fourty: Confrontation
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

I move very slowly and mechanically this morning. While I do so, I do not check the time because I don't care anymore. Nothing matters anymore.

I crawl out of bed, take a shower, brush my teeth, then get dressed for school. I try my best not to think or feel about anything because I don't want to face the awful truth that might confront me today.

But many times, as I prepare for school, I just can't help it. Stray thoughts whizs into my head too fast to stop it. During those times, I am faced with an awful truth that's too painful to fully admit to myself.

And that truth is . . .

That's it.

I'm done.

I am defeated.

All my plans are for naught.

I most likely lost my opportunity to attack Diamond Tiara subtly. Now, if I ever do it, it will have to be a direct assault, and there are far too many consequences for me to name off the top of my head.

But the situation is likely even worse than that. I don't see why Button Mash will protect my secret now that he finally unveiled the Shadow Queen. He said he would unmask her. I used to laugh at him for that declaration.

I don't find it funny anymore.

My life is very likely to change for the dramatically worse soon, and I have no contingency plan prepared to stop it. I don't even know how to brace for the impact.

So my mind resets to its default settings. It simply freezes, too scared to make another move. With flaws and mistakes burying me from all around, I feel terrified that any move I make might make it somehow worse. With all the blunders I've made recently, it feels too likely that I'd make another if I make any attempt at a deliberate move. I can't even calculate the odds of that anymore.

So I don't make a plan. I just move without thought or feeling as much as I can.

My “sister” notices my silent and stiff behavior. In the bathroom, while we are brushing our teeth together, she looks at me with tender concern. I am not looking at her, but I still notice her looking at me both from the corner of my eye and the reflection of her in the mirror ahead of us.

At one point she opens her mouth as if to speak and reaches a hand out to touch me.

“DON'T . . . touch me!” I order her firmly as I freeze and stiffen, afraid she might not cooperate with my demand.

She withdraws her hand, sags her shoulders, and looks sad. Eventually, she quietly withdraws.

I realize that, to her, this new attitude of mine is coming out of nowhere. Last time she checked, we were smiling, laughing, and playing together. Bonding like we never have before.

How could she know that, in all that time, I was mostly pretending to care for her in order to get close to her and get her to drop her guard around me? I wanted her vulnerable, but the irony is, when I finally succeed in that goal, I get declawed.

Now I can't hide my frustration anymore. The truth is a strong part of me is weary of pretending. First I lose my passion for deception, and now it feels like I lost my ability to do it completely. A strong part of me no longer cares.

I don't really care about anything . . . or at least that's what I keep trying to tell myself.

But that is yet another lie. I may not be good at it anymore, but it remains a subconscious habit.

My mind does not sync with my reality again until I finish dressing. When I make that last tug on the bow under my neck, it's like it reboots my mind and causes me to wake back up.

I examine myself from toe to head.

I am wearing my cute black shoes that are open at the top but secured by two black straps over my feet. I am wearing white socks that extend up two inches below my knees. I am wearing a fluffy red dress that expands away from my waist. It is secured by two straps over my shoulder. Beneath that is a white, long-sleeved blouse with frills at the end of the sleeves. The collar of my white blouse covers the strap of my bow around my neck, revealing only the small red bow that has the image of a red rook in the center. My face has only a small touch of blush around my freckled cheeks. I also have a hint of blue eyeliner around my eyes and on my eyelids. My lips are cherry red. My teal hair is coiled in many curls and secured by another red bow on top of my hair.

I lean forward and press both of my hands to the side of the tall rectangular mirror on our door that survived last night's tantrum onslaught by yours truly. I use my arms to push me away from the door while still leaning on it.

So . . . this is me. This is Cozy Glow. This is my life. It may not be much anymore. My life is probably in shambles right now, but this is what I have. This is all that I have to work with.

I give a tiny smile at my reflection.

I still think I look as cute as a button, and somehow, despite my absent-mindedness this morning, I manage to get myself straight and look pretty decent.

I wish I still had my pony face, though. That was cuter. I miss that.

I sigh while still staring at my reflection.

This is it. I don't know what's going to happen anymore, and I don't even have a plan for it. All I know is my life has to move forward, come what may.

Alright, then.

I push myself away from the door to stand up straight again. I give my dress a final tug to make it as neat as possible. After that, I reach to the top of the corner of our dresser drawer to retrieve my thankfully still intact smart glasses, not that it means much anymore. The glasses themselves function just fine, but now my cellphone is broken. Without that, there is no way for these glasses to connect to the internet anymore or anything else that was stored on my cellphone.

Oh well. At least they still correct my vision until the batteries run out.

I take a deep intake of breath, then slowly release it.

Let's do this.




* * *




It is a quiet and somber ride to school that day as our mother drives us in her electric car. I ride in the front passenger seat and mostly just keep to myself.

For a brief while, our mother put on her traditional podcast of all kinds of science lectures, but seeing me wince at it several times, she eventually just turns it off then proceeds for the rest of the journey in silence.

For the first three-quarters of our journey, it rains outside. At first it is a light amount of rain, then medium, then none as we near the school. Mom adjusts the windshield wipers speed in accordance with the degree of the rain.

I wistfully look out the window to my right. At first I am staring at the various passing things of our familiar town, but eventually my attention shifts to the droplets of the rain itself. I watch as the droplets slide down the window towards the rear of the car due to wind friction. I admire how the water droplets refract the light, even though it is a dark and gray morning. I grin slightly at this sight, finding a tiny amount of joy in the simple things.

Largely because it helps to take my mind off of big things.

Sometimes it gets darker outside, especially as we pass through a short tunnel. In that moment my own reflection stands out to me on the wet window. At that moment, it reminds me of my own pony face back in Horse-Land as I rode on the train on my way to Canterlot. I remember thinking about how that was what pony Cozy should have looked like if she was allowed to grow up to match my age, but instead she's frozen in stone.

In stone . . .

. . .

Yes. I remember. I remember how I trotted into the gardens and found her statue. I remember how it rained that day too. It made her seem to cry.

“Help me!” I recall hearing a wail of desperation in my mind at the time. “Somebody . . . ANYBODY . . . help me! Pleeeeeeeasse.”

Tears rise in my own eyes now at that agonizing thought.

Is it my turn now? Will I be encased in stone too?

Maybe it won't happen literally. Perhaps it will only happen metaphorically. If I go to jail for all that I have done, at least it won't be as bad as being frozen in stone.

And, perhaps, Sunny will finally be set free too. If all my crimes are about to be laid bare anyway, then at least it comes with that silver lining.




* * *




I find it strange that Mom drops us off in front of the school instead of parking at her usual spot. I'm not the only one to notice this, either.

“Why are you dumping us off here?” Diamond asks our mother. “You need to come to this school, too.”

“I got a few more errands I need to run,” our mother explains, “but I didn't want it to make you two late, so you both go on ahead of me.”

“Errands?” I question her.

For some reason our mother gives me a very meaningful look, then she seems to brush it off lightly as she says reassuringly, “It's nothing, Honey. We'll talk about it later. For now,” she gives me a shoo-shoo motion, “you two run along, now. You don't want to be late for class.”

She's up to something. I can tell. It probably has something to do with last night's temper tantrum of mine, or maybe Button Mash got a hold of her.

Well, whatever. No matter what it is, it isn't something I can stop, so I might as well obey her by heading off to school.

“Fine,” I say flatly as I unbuckle then open the car door. “I'll see you later, whenever that is.”

“YOU TWO HAVE A GREAT TIME AT SCHOOL!” our mother bids us as we both exit the car.

Shortly thereafter, our mother drives off. Both Diamond and I notice she is exiting the entire campus. Whatever she's up to, it isn't here.

“What do you think she's up to?” Diamond asks me curiously to my side.

Although I know she really is curious, I also sense she's just trying to break the ice between us by starting a conversation, but I won't be baited that easily.

I'm in a very bad mood today.

“Doesn't matter,” I say dismissively as I turn to face the school. “She'll tell us when she's good and ready.”

Or rather, tell me. I'm willing to bet high odds that, whatever she has in mind, it has something to do with me.

But I won't bother to calculate the exact odds. I'll probably just get it wrong again, same as I always do lately.

“What's with you today?!” Diamond asks behind me with some irritation but mostly in pain and concern. “Or last night, for that matter.”

I ignore her and keep on walking silently to school.

At first I am stuck on a single-minded course to get to my classroom until shortly after I enter the building through the glass doors. It is then that I notice an unusually thick crowd in the large reception hall of the school.

I was about to ask what is going on, but Diamond beat me to it.

“What's going on here?” Diamond asks the crowd aloud. “Did something happen?”

“Diamond,” Silver Spoon broaches as she parts from the crowd. She gives a “Come here” motion to Diamond, and Diamond specifically, I notice. “Come to me,” Silver bade aloud. “Get away from her.”

Diamond looks confused as she asks, “Why? What's going on here?”

“Really?!” I ask incredulously. “You're all going to do this to me now before classes have even started?

“Okay.” I scan among the crowd. “Where is Button Mash? I'm sure he put you all up to this.”

“How did you know it was me?” Button Mash asks as he reveals himself from the crowd wearing a red t-shirt and blue pants. “Do you have access to some inside information that would warn you that something is amiss?”

“I don't have inside information, and even I can tell something is amiss,” Diamond said aloud. “I thought that the weird vibe was limited to just my sister, but now it's starting to look to me that the whole school has caught a nasty case of the crazies this morning.”

“Diamond, please trust me! Come over to me!” Silver Spoon requests more firmly.

Instead of that, Diamond stands in front of me protectively as she says, “No! Not until you all explain to me why you are all acting so crazy this morning. Have I entered the Twilight Zone when I wasn't looking?”

“I've been there ever since Mother adopted me,” I scoff as I cross my arms across my chest.

“You know what I mean,” Diamond says back to me with a slight snicker.

“We're acting this way because Cozy Glow IS the Shadow Queen!” Button Mash firmly announces.

Okay. I guess we're doing this now. This is sooner than I expected, but I still foresaw this coming.

“WHAT?!” Diamond screeches, then resumes in a tone of denial, “That's really crazy talk! Button, she's our friend, and my sister! How and why could you possibly accuse her of being someone that horrible, and why would she do it anyway?”

“So I can use it to destroy you,” I admit to Diamond in a hard tone from behind her.

I see Diamond stiffen for four seconds, then she turns around and faces me in shock as she asks, “What?!”

“You heard me!” I blare at her with incredible fury. “All of this . . . everything . . . I did it all in preparation to attack you. Just you. You, Diamond fucking Tiara . . . were my primary target all along.”

“What?!” Tears start to rise in Diamond's eyes as she continues to regard me.

Meanwhile, everyone else in the room is stunned that I'm finally admitting my crimes openly.

“But . . . why, Cozy? Why do all this just to attack me personally?” Diamond asks as her voice wavers with pain. “What did I ever do to you?”

“You really don't remember me from our childhood, do you?” I ask in an accusing tone as I narrow my eyes at her. “The greatest crime you have ever done to me, the one which RUINED my life,” Diamond is not the only one taken aback when I passionately shout out the word “ruined,” “and you don't even consider it worthy of remembrance? Oh, how I despise you!”

“Remember what?” Diamond whines to me. “What did I do?”

“Think back, Diamond fucking Tiara! Think back real hard. Think back to the days when we both had an assignment to our parents to observe them for work-study. As it so happens, both of us chose our fathers, and both of them were in the same place when we met each other.

“And yes, I am talking about my birth father this time.

“Unlike your father, however, mine worked at the mattress factory for several years. Your father bought out the factory two years prior, but he never visited it until that fateful day. That's also the day when we met each other.

“Work-study my ass. You and I were both basically in the way, so they sent us to wait for them in your father's office while my father gave Filthy a tour of the factory.

“So we were sitting alone in that office . . . together. I tried, for a short while, to start a conversation with you, but you shot me down every time, claiming I was, and I quote, 'A filthy peasant who is unworthy of your ears.'”

Which is basically what Diamond's mother said to her on the day she was kicked out of the mansion. Go figure. I knew, ever since then, where Diamond's nasty attitude came from beforehand.

Diamond, for her part, looks even more pained at this reminder.

“Back then, I thought to myself, 'Well, fine! Be that way, you mean girl.'

“I was willing to let the issue drop like that. The silence made me uncomfortable, but it was ten times better compared to when you spoke. If you had not said anything else, I might have been fine with you.

“But noooooooooooooooooo! You got thirsty, then demanded for me to go out and get you a soda. To your very thin credit, at least you were willing to pay for it, but you ordered me to get it as if I were your servant, which I later realized was exactly how you thought of me.

“I even told you off by reminding you of that fact. In reply, you actually told me that since my daddy worked for your daddy, that it meant I was technically your servant. I said no, that I don't work for you because I'm not being paid by you and I did not choose to serve under you.

“You were furious. After that, you told me that if I didn't do this service for you, then you would talk to your father about firing my father.

“By then I was livid with fury at you, too. I decided to call your bluff and basically told you to go to hell.

“In retrospect, I suppose it was true that you were used to having all of your orders obeyed. You couldn't believe that this worthless 'peasant' girl you just met defied your orders.”

From the look of Diamond's face and eyes, it becomes clear to me that she still doesn't remember this, but what I'm describing makes too much sense to her. She must have determined that it really does sound like her old self. A version of herself that she's now ashamed of, which makes her deeply regretful now. At least this means she probably believes me.

“Anyway,” I give a casual shrug, “in the end, you stomped off in a huff to get the damn soda yourself, but you vowed to remember this indignity and carry through with your threat.

“At the time I dismissed your threat, but two days later my father actually was fired!”

“Really?” Diamond asks me. “I swear to God, Cozy, I don't remember any of this.”

“Yeah!” I narrow my eyes at her sharply. “That's become clear to me, now.”

“So that is why you hate me so much? Because you think I got your father fired many years ago?” she checks.

I shake my head at her. “No, Diamond. That was only the beginning of the hell you put me through.

“You see, after my father got fired from a job he held for twenty . . . years . . .” I pause for a moment to let that sink in, then resume, “ . . . he shut down. He really didn't know how to move on with his life, so he just gave up and turned to drinking.

“Now, what I'm about to tell you is only recently recovered knowledge. Apparently I suppressed most of it, and very likely I still am suppressing most of it. The few bits I do remember is my parents shouting at each other and keeping me up at night, but eventually their argument escalated to physical violence. More than half of me suspects I've also been a victim of sexual assault by my father as well.”

The present assembly of students (and a few teachers too, by the looks of it) gasp in astonishment, but Diamond looks devastated.

Good! Twist in agony, you arrogant bitch!

“I barely remember any of this, which might be a good thing, but . . . in the end . . . I lost both of my parents. Either they give me up for adoption or they were forced to after they get arrested, and THAT, Little Miss Prissy, is why I loathe you with a passion!

“I was not joking or exaggerating when I say that you RUINED my life! Thanks to you, I went through hell before the worst part of this whole process, the loss of my birth parents!

“I was abandoned. Unloved and unwanted until, miraculously, my new mother showed up, but now I have to share my room, and her affection, with the one person in this whole world who deserves it the least!

“God DAMN you, Diamond Tiara! I hate you so much with a passion!

“I schemed for years to exact the perfect revenge against you. Running against you for the position of Student Council President was part of my plans. I wanted to rip something from you and get you under my feet, just as you tried to do to me when we first met. But, unlike you, I succeeded, you miserable cunt!

“Of course, not everything is as it seems. Yes, I am good with crowds, but I had help from my minions in the background. Information is power, Diamond Tiara. Gathering it and using it smartly can set one on the path to control everything. You were the one who taught me that, but I'm ten times more talented at it than you are.

“It was hard, though, working on two jobs like this. One in the light, and the other in the shadows, but it was worth it. I kept imagining how much I would get you to scream in agony. That's what gave me purpose. That is what gave me strength even when I felt weary.

“And it's not really that hard, once you know how to manipulate the system.”

I playfully skip past Diamond Tiara, towards the larger crowd, as I sing in a tone that mocks Diamond's own words she once sang as a child.

“Eh . . . veryone . . . has . . . their lit-tle se-crets.

“I know you do!” I point at Coconut Cream. “Obedience . . . to me . . . will help . . . you keep . . . them safe!” I continue to sing.

I take a deep breath then release it. When next I speak, it's in a normal tone again as I sweep my gaze across the crowd, then I say, “For example . . . You!” I point at Coconut Cream beside me again, since she is next to me anyway. “Remember how I helped arrange for a little payback against Toola Roola for that little insult she gave you on your cellphone? Welllllll . . . it turns out that that text message came from me! I was impersonating Toola Roola when I hacked into her account,” I point casually at the other stunned girl, “just to persuade you to crawl into my dark web . . . and you did it! You totally fell for my trap. Once you did that, I also had evidence that you did it, and that is the dirt I had on you.”

Coconut Cream gasps at me in shock, then looks at Toola Roola with immense crushing guilt as she realizes, for the first time, her former friend was innocent all along.

“And how about that, Ladies and Gentleman!” I cry out in dramatic showmanship while inwardly feeling more than a little insane. “Why are you all just standing there and gawking at me when you could be recording this? Most of you have smartphones, right? Well, prove that you have a brain cell left in your head and use the darn things to record my confession. If you do, it will last longer.”

My suggestion stuns them, but most of them cooperate a moment later because they realize I have a good point.

Of course I have a good point! I'm a mad genius, after all!

“That's it!” I coax. “All cameras on me. Dance for your Queen, you brainless little sheep.”

I twirl away, then say, “And oh . . . what do we have here? Not enough evidence gathered against me? Well, how about I prove myself a little clearer? Especially now that you morons finally got the wits to aim your cameras on me.

“Oh! And be sure to hit the record button too! That's pretty important if you want to record something. It looks like a shiny red button on your cellphones.

“Anyway.” I playfully skip over to a green-skinned boy named Tuti Fruiti. Once there, I say aloud to him, “Oh, I know that you are a special case that I find interesting. More than most that I know who stand in this room, I know you are especially eager to turn eighteen.”

I see him widen his eyes at me, then cringe in incredible embarrassment, for he knows what I'm about to confess.

“Do you all want to know why he's so eager for that magic number?” I ask aloud to the crowd. “It's because he gains legal responsibility over his destiny after that, and that's especially important to him because he has a certain process he wants to begin in his life. A process that will upgrade him into a member of the fairer sex.

“Oh!” I reach forward and pat him on the cheek in an obviously patronizing way. “I'm sure you're going to look so precious in a dress! The reason I'm so confident of that is because I already have loads of pictures of you trying them on. However, I'm sure you'll look even cuter in them once they 'fit' properly.”

I pat him on the head then playfully skip away while calling back to him over my shoulder, “Keep up the dream! I look forward to the day when I can greet you in our bathrooms.

“See, everyone?” I call aloud to once again address the whole room. “Everyone has their little secrets. The trick is to use that information in order to get you against each other. I had you all cross networked back and forth so that everyone had their own little role in my grand scheme. Your knowledge, in turn, is compartmentalized into small individual roles. All of you only know what you did on my behalf as well as what I have over you, which includes the deeds you've done for me. The more you cooperate with me, the deeper you sink into my shadowy web.”

“If what you say is true, then why admit all of this now?” Diamond asks me with pain but also a small bit of bitterness.

I shrug and say, “Lots of reasons. Most of it had to do with some of you being brave and standing out from the crowd by admitting your secrets. One of you did it before doing even one single deed for me. The irony is Sweetie Belle claims she did it because she was inspired by me as Cozy.

“And then there is you, Button Mash.” I eye him and tilt my head to the left. I give him the slow clap as I say, “Bravo. You did a swell job indeed. I must say, I really didn't think you had it in you to actually unmask the powerful Shadow Queen, but you did it. You actually accomplished what you set out to do. In the process, you bit the hand that fed you.

“I had such an ingenious plan for you all. Not all of it was bad, either. Some of it you might have approved of.

“And to think . . . I would have gotten away with it, too, if it weren't for your meddling, Button Mash. Both you and Rarity . . . and Sweetie Belle . . . and Sunset Shimmer . . .” I look and am more and more depressed as I continue the list, “. . . and Pony Twilight . . . and Ghost . . .” I sink to my knees in depression beside the glass case and shelves full of the school's trophies. “. . . and Cozy Glow. Oh she, above all, really got in my way.”

“So you admit what you did to Sunny?” Button asks. “But . . . you seem to regret that, so why frame her at all?”

“Isn't it obvious?” I ask sadly as I continue to eye the floor. “Sunset Shimmer could unravel all of my plans with one simple touch. Her magic allows her to read memories, both past and present. As a result, she was too much of a threat to me.

“Plus there was one other thing that happened that caused her to be an especially strong threat to me. Sunset Shimmer has a way to communicate with the horses back in Horse-Land-”

“EQUESTRIA!” several people correct me simultaneously.

“-which could have been a threat to me if she later found out.”

“Like the fact you came to visit me in my lands?” I hear my mother ask to the right of me. I look over to her then widen my eyes, stunned to see that there are now two versions of my mother standing near the entrance of the school. That, and Pinkie Pie, Applejack, Rarity, Fluttershy, and Rainbow Dash.

I wonder, for a moment, if they are the versions from Horse-Land or from our own world.

Probably my own world.

Between the two versions of my mother standing there, I'm pretty sure the one wearing glasses and the same clothes I saw her wearing in the car is my mother.

I guess I now know what “errands” my mother was up to this morning.

“Well,” I look down with regret, “I guess you finally fixed that portal to Horse-Land, Mom. I'm sure it wasn't easy considering I was hiding some of its magical components.”

“Indeed, it wasn't easy,” my mother agrees. “But together, with all of my friends, there is magic in us aplenty. It was enough to open a portal for a brief moment and send a message on through. The next time we opened the portal, Princess Twilight tossed us a new magical device to help power the portal.”

“Then I guess you know everything,” I lament. “Everything I have done.”

“Not everything,” my mother disagrees. “There sure is a lot I still don't know about you, Cozy, but I'm willing to learn . . . if you're willing to tell me.”

“We've known all along about the transgressions of your pony self, darling,” Rarity tells me candidly, “and we never held it against you.”

That declaration virtually seals it for me. These are the human versions of my mother's friends.

“I wanted to be honest and upfront with you about the fact that we knew from the very beginning,” Applejack admits.

“But we didn't want to depress you,” my mother adds, “or give you any reason to think that we held something that your alternate self did against you. I,” she places a hand on her chest, “also didn't want you comparing yourself to someone else. You are your own unique self, my dearest Cozy. Here, in this reality, you are my daughter . . . and that is the only thing that matters to me. Can you say the same?”

“As you can see,” my mother's counterpart gestures to my mother standing beside her, “I did not lie to you. Your mother, and all of her friends, knew about you all along, but that did not matter to them. They have a lot of experience seeing past other’s faults, or even potential faults.”

“Yeah,” Pinkie Pie agrees with a roll of her eyes. “We have a veeeeeeeeeery forgiving group.”

“I hope you can say the same,” Princess Twilight says to me hopefully. “You're probably thinking that I came here to condemn you, but nothing could be further from the truth! Instead, it is I that came here to beg for your forgiveness for what you've been put through back in my lands.”

“Lies!” I hear the Dark King whisper into my ear with his creepy multi-voice. “They are here to deceive you! To trick you into lowering your guard! Do not listen to them, or you will share the fate of your counterpart, for that is the only justice that they understand!

	“Friendship,” the Dark King spat in a mocking way. “forgiveness, honesty . . . these are all buzzwords they spit out to try to corrupt or imprison you. It's all a power play.

	“You saw the truth with your own eyes, and you risked a lot to get there. Everything else they say is empty of meaning.”

I know, I mentally agree with the Dark King. Friendship is a lie! I've known that for years, but some are so foolish that they actually believe in it themselves.

“Indeed,” the Dark King agrees with a sinister gurgle that almost sounds like a purr of a large cat. “That is why they must be guided. That is why they need a ruler. Through that authority, we guide the weak and the foolish in order to prevent them from destroying themselves.”

Do you really believe that, or are you just trying to manipulate me too?

“Why can't it be both?” he asks me. “The truth can be a powerful tool of persuasion. You should know that better than most of your kind.”

“No matter what you've done . . . or planned to do . . . nothing can change one indisputable truth,” my mother goes on. “You are my daughter, Cozy Glow, and I will always love you. I will also always forgive you. Can you say the same about your new sister, Diamond?”

“Wait, what?” Silver Spoon looks at my mother in confusion. “How did you know about that? She made that confession before you arrived.”

For the first time during this encounter, my mother adopts a smug look as she admits while pushing up her glasses with a single finger (like an anime bad-ass, in my personal opinion), “Well, my daughter is not the only one who can plant eavesdropping devices. Technology is kind of a specialty of mine!”

“It's why we knew we had to pick up the pace to get here,” Rainbow Dash admits. “Originally, we were planning on having this intervention after school but . . . when your mom picked up on the fact that the others in school confronted you first, I used my Equestrian magic to get them here lickety-split.”

“Huh? What about me?” someone hidden in the crowd asks aloud.

Rainbow Dash facepalms, then announces, “I wasn't talking about you, Lickety Split.”

“Equestrian magic . . . of course,” the Dark King points out as if he suddenly recalled that fact. “That could be a major problem for you, but fortunately for you, I have a solution.”

And what is that? I quickly ask the Dark King mentally.

“That is simple. Give me your body!”

“We were planning on having this conversation in privacy, but things being what they are,” Applejack gave a helpless shrug. “Sometimes life is too complicated to get everything the way we want them to.”

“Cozy,” my mom steps forward and hugs her clasped hands tightly on her chest, “I overheard what you said to Diamond about why you despise her, but she was just a little child herself back then who was suffering her own form of abuse. Please, Cozy, I beg you . . . let your hatred go. It won't serve you anymore. You don't need it. We can be a family now. A loving, happy family.”

“I know what you are thinking. You're thinking that your mother is innocent in this,” the Dark King surmised. “You are probably right. She's been deceived, too. For all her vast intelligence, you’ve got to admit . . . she is quite naive.

	“If you need evidence of that, then look no further than at yourself. She took you in. She willingly ingested you, this poison, and she was blind to all of your crimes for years simply because she 'loved' you and wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt.

	“That's noble, but ultimately foolish. If she is that susceptible to mind tricks, then imagine how easily the others could sway her.”

“We're sorry we weren't more honest with you earlier,” Princess Twilight adds. “To be honest, that is a lesson I still struggle with sometimes.”

“We all do from time to time,” Applejack agrees with a half shrug. “It can be a very hard lesson to learn, but a very important one.”

“And now that everything's out in the open and we are telling you that we forgive you, there is no reason to withhold your evidence that you used against Sunny,” Rarity tells me encouragingly. “Tell us where those files are and everything will be fine! You'll see! Nobody here is going to press charges against you, darling. Not even Sunny.”

“Now that is a bald-faced lie!” the Dark King spat in disgust. “Even if she meant it, that is a foolish belief. Surely she cannot convince everyone you've wronged here to drop the charges. Somebody in this room will stay on the offensive, which means . . . your life is forfeit anyway, so why not give it to me? With it, I can exact revenge for us both, for I have a score to settle with these bitches myself!

	“You do believe that, don't you? Unlike them, I have no reason to lie to you. The truth is evidence enough.”

“Cozy,” Diamond spoke remorsefully, “I really don't remember this crime that you accused me of, but if you say I did . . . then I probably did. I guess something that severe wouldn't be easily forgotten.

“I'll admit, I have done many things in my life that I now regret. I used to be a very nasty person, but I can change! I want to change! I want to be your sister! I love you! You lifted me up when I was feeling so down that I was willing to kill myself. Regardless of your motives, that is what you accomplished. You made me into a better person, so let me return the favor.” Diamond reaches a hand to me and says, “Come on, Cozy. Let's move forward and heal together! Let's laugh and play just like we used to.”

As I look at her hand, I realize she means what she says. She only stands to gain if she can convince me to forgive her. That's easy for her to say because she hasn't gone through what I have.

“No . . . she went through worse,” I hear Sunset's disembodied spirit say. “Look at her, Cozy! Really look at her! Are you sure she is your enemy? Can you not see the obvious signs of her being a kindred spirit?”

“Even if that's true, it doesn't matter!” the Dark King warned. “Perhaps Diamond is innocent, at least of any recent crimes, but that does not change how she damaged you in the past, and that doesn't change the sinister plans the others have for you now.

“Eternity in stone, Cozy Glow! Can you really afford to take the chance to trust them after seeing that? They weren't even that cruel to me, and I have terrorized Equestria beyond anything you can ever imagine. Their 'justice' comprises of a swift end to anything they regard as a threat to them, and like it or not . . . you are a threat to them. You can't help it. You are that dangerous. You are a villain, like me. You said so yourself, so many times.

	“Since we are kindred spirits, let me help you! Give me your body! Obviously you know what I'll gain in this deal, so you can trust my motives, unlike them. You can also believe me when I say I seethe with rage against them, and I am mighty. I have POWER! I can make them pay!”

I focus again on Diamond's offered hand, then I scream in rage as I smash the glass case beside me that is full of the school's trophies. The glass case shatters around my raging fist. It also cuts me up a bit, but I'm too pissed to notice.

“Laugh and play, you say?” I growl acidly. “Forgive and heal together . . . after all that you have done to me?

“I loved my birth parents, Diamond! They are a part of me, and they always will be.”

“We're not seeking to replace them, Cozy!” my mother objects. “I never had that goal. Instead, we're here for you because we love you!”

“Your mother is right,” Princess Twilight agrees. “All of this pain, anger, loneliness, and bitterness is now pointless. You don't need to be like that any longer!”

I growl in anger at her words as I remind myself that she is one of my bitter enemies, too. I was going to leave her alone, all locked up in her own world, but she came at me again. She is threatening me once again, and now she's roped my mother into this too!

I will make her pay for this! I will make them ALL pay for this . . . at any price!

Dark King, do it! I invite him. Take my body and use it to make them suffer!

“Oh Cozy . . . no!” I hear Sunset lament.

“Gladly!” the Dark King eagerly accepts.

But on one condition! I warn him. My mother is not to be harmed. She, above all, is innocent in this affair, and I do owe her.

I hear the Dark King growl a bit, then he asks, “Can I at least scare her a little? She needs to know that we are not to be trifled with. If she does not learn to respect our power, then she'll just come after us again. True, it will be with the best of intentions, but the best of intentions is the road to Tartarus. Your own counterpart would verify that if she could.”

“Cozy, don't do this!” Sunset begs. “Please think this through! These are not your enemies! Nobody is except for him!”

“You're quick to judge others and dish out labels,” the Dark King mocks Sunset. “Meanwhile, I've been completely transparent about my intentions from the start. I never hid the fact that I'm only doing this to gain something from Cozy, but that's precisely why she can trust me. Everything in life has a price. She knows that, just as I do. The reason why we are alike is because we both know the truth.”

Why are we still debating this? I said for you to take me, so just do it, dammit!

“As you wish,” the Dark King accepts then moves to do so.

A shadowy presence soon fills my mind and chills my body, causing me to shiver all over. After that, I feel the phantom sensation of falling for a brief moment.

Seconds later, though, I open my eyes again, but this time it's not under my control.

“It doesn't matter how low you sink, Cozy,” Sunset announces with steel in her voice. “You are my friend, and I will never give up on you because that is what friends do.”

I see myself looking down at my body. I am looking down at my hands, in particular. In any case, I see an inky black aura hover around my body as if I am leaking black smoke.

I also hear startled gasps from the others. Apparently, they can see this too.

“My-my-my,” the Dark King said through my voice with his continued creepy multi-voice, but one difference about it is the fact that it includes my voice now, and I felt my vocal cords vibrate as he spoke through me. As he said that, he slowly takes off my glasses, folds each stem then drops it to his side. “This is a most unexpected way to make your acquaintance again, your majesty! But then again, we are very old friends, aren't we? And I do ever so much know how much you value friendship!”

Everyone in the room seems startled and confused. Some are also concerned.

Princess Twilight, on the other hand, seems to be the only one in the room who has any idea who this is.

“It can't be!” Princess Twilight gasps. “Sombra? Is that really you?”

Wait, that's your real name? I ask him from within. Why didn't you tell me?

Would it have made any difference if I did? King Sombra asked back the same way. No matter what name I wear, I am still the KING!

Remember our deal! Don't hurt my mom! I remind him insistently.

Don't worry, little poppet! I keep my word. Sombra expresses to me with a sinister chuckle. I'm just going to scare her a little. As I have promised, I won't hurt her. You, on the other hoof . . .

“Wait . . . are you telling me this is a super bad guy?” Rainbow Dash asks with an edge of excitement in her voice.

“In the body of our friend!” Fluttershy quickly and sharply reminds.

“Yessssss!” King Sombra agrees with a sinister hiss through my voice. “In the body of your 'friend'. Let's not overlook that important detail, shall we?”

King Sombra gets my body to rise up then spins about on a dime to face my mother and all of her friends, including a certain disguised horse from Horse-Land.

“In every dealings we have with each other, it is important to evaluate all the factors involved in each encounter,” Sombra lectures them. “For instance, this glass shard I have in my hands here.” Sombra lifts said object to demonstrate the fact that he (or she?) has it, then proceeds to place it against my own throat.

“NO!” my mother screams at me, greatly startled.

“Do human throats get cut as easily as pony throats, I wonder?” Sombra asks aloud. “If you don't wish to find out then toss me all of your magic crystals.”

“No! Wait!” Princess Twilight calls out to discourage her friends, then she speaks to me, or rather the entity within me, next. “You're bluffing. If you kill Cozy, then you lose the only vessel you have in this world again.”

I feel Sombra lift my right eyebrow curiously at Princess Twilight as he says, “I'm surprised to hear that from you, your majesty, but then again . . . I've always known you to be a hypocrite.

	“Regardless, you should ask yourself one critical question; between you and me, which one of us do you think is more willing to harm Cozy Glow?”

Princess Twilight narrows her eyes at me, but she cautiously says nothing yet.

“Let's find out, shall we?” Sombra invites then proceeds to cut my throat. He barely got an inch across my now bleeding throat, however, when my mother screams in pain.

“NOOOO! NOOOO! For God's sake, please no!” my mother cries out. “Don't harm my daughter!”

“And my sister!” Diamond cries out in agreement.

She's still going on about that? That kind of surprises me under these circumstances.	

“Here! Take it!” My mother tosses her tiny magic purple gem in my direction. It lands smoothly by my feet.

Sombra bends down to pick it up, then looks across my mother's friends.

“Anyone else feel the same way about Cozy?” Sombra checks with them. “If you do, a generous donation of magic crystals would help to prove your point.”

Reluctantly, one by one, the others toss their gems at my feet, too.

“Excellent!” Sombra cheers as he scoops up the rest of the crystals. “Crystaaaaaalllls!” he purrs with pleasure.

“Well, you got what you wanted!” Princess Twilight calls out. “Now let Cozy Glow go! Take me instead if that is what you want.”

Sombra crushes all the gems together. When he opens my palm, I see that the six gems have fused together.

“Now that is an interesting proposal,” Sombra muses. “You offer yourself to me willingly?”

“If it will help free Cozy, then yes!” Princess Twilight assures.

“Now that is an ironic declaration considering what you did to Cozy's counterpart, though I wonder if you're bright enough to notice that you don't quite have the same leverage in this situation.”

Sombra lifts up the hand that holds the fused crystals. I see a dark aura glow around my hand that is filled with black and purple popping energy.

“I, on the other hoof . . .” Sombra began then trailed off as that same dark aura surrounds my mother and all of her friends. They all lift up two feet off the ground. Based on the way they are gasping, it also sounds like they can't breathe!

You said you wouldn't hurt my mother! I sharply remind him.

Hmm. I lied! Sombra inwardly taunts me. But don't worry, my little poppet . . . I still don't intend to kill them. If I were to do that, they won't suffer as much as I intend them to.

The fist that grasps the fused crystals draws closer for a second. Similarly, they do as well. After a moment, Sombra throws the fist that holds the crystals forward as if he's tossing a baseball except he never unclenches my fist.

In response, my mother, and all of her friends, are tossed out of the school. They shatter right through the glass doors and slide on the ground fifty feet beyond the exit of the school. Blood also drags on the ground due to the fact they are cut up by the glass shards that linger with them along their way out.

Most of the crowd that remains within the school scream in panic and attempt to flee, but Sombra telekinetically shuts all the doors leading out of the reception hall and somehow locks them, perhaps magically.

“Ah-ah-ah!” Sombra taunts them using my voice and body. “I didn't give you permission to flee. You may leave when I say you can leave.

	“For now, I bid you to join me.

	“Oh, and ah . . . keep rolling with those marvelous technological wonders you have. If your devices can indeed somehow preserve individual moments, then I want this historic moment noticed and recorded.”

Fearfully, some do aim the cameras of their cellphones right back at me.

“Enjoy the show!” Sombra bids.

I am startled as, in the next moment, my vision suddenly darkens into . . . well, I don't know what to call this. The world somehow gets obscured. It also kind of looks dark, decayed, and twisted. It feels like I can't breathe, and I am surrounded by a deep chill.

From this weird perception, I somehow fly up to six feet off the ground and zoom out of the school, right through the shattered glass doors. I fly down to the top step leading up to the school. From there, my vision returns to normal. Most of the chill that surrounds me also goes away. I still feel the chill inwardly, but the outward environment returns to normal.

Did you enjoy that? Sombra asks me curiously. That was a brief shift to the Shadow Plane. You can say that it is my home Plane of Existence, in a way.

Honestly . . . it's pretty disturbing.

	One gets used to it in time, Sombra assures me. As I told you before, monsters do not need to fear other monsters when they have claws and fangs of their own.

Yeah. I remember you told me that.

	More importantly, is my mother okay?

See for yourself. She's moving, isn't she? She's also getting back up along with the rest of her so-called “friends”.

I see he is telling the truth.

“I have to thank you all for this wonderful gift of crystals,” Sombra expresses. “I don't think any of you, except for the Princess, has any idea what you just hoofed to me. With these crystals, you just hoofed me the keys to Equestria itself,” he lifts up the fist that holds the fused crystals. “These are the last remnants of the Elements of Harmony, aren't they? I know this because I sense the familiar energy signature. I am sort of an expert with crystal magic, you know.”

I am forced to look at my fist that holds the crystals as a dark, purple, and black popping aura grows around that hand.

“With these crystals, I will reclaim my power back in Equestria, whereupon I will quickly surpass it. Soon, all in Equestria shall once again know their ruler and KING!”

As if reminded of something, Sombra looks down at my own chest. It is fairly flat, but likely bumpier than he is used to.

“Well,” he says as he looks back at my mother and their pained but rising friends, “I suppose I'll have to get used to the title of Queen now, but eh,” he lifts the crystals higher as they flare with much more intensive magic, then says, “details.” Then he slams the fist into the ground.

As if in response, a dozen black crystals tear up from the earth around my mother and her friends. They reach out of the ground like black, icy claws. The spike's tips are even bent inward towards them just like claws.

At first the crystals are spread in a twenty-foot radius around them but, after they all emerge about fifteen feet out the ground, they quickly enclose upon the entire group. As the spikes travel through the ground, they also tear up the concrete. 

They yelp at this, startled, as the crystals close around them as if to crush them between, but it suddenly stops when they are pressed closely against each other.

My perception shifts to that shadowy form again for an even shorter moment. During that time, I fly down in front of the crystal cage. From there, my perception returns to normal again.

“Well, well,” Sombra brings up in a taunting voice. “Isn't this familiar, your majesty? Are we both having feelings of déjà vu here, or is it just me?”

“What do you want with us, Sombra?” Princess Twilight asks him with a strong edge of defiance in her voice. “You have the crystals and you got Cozy Glow. What more could you possibly want?”

“Like Cozy, you also possess an analytical mind whenever you choose to use it,” Sombra observes. “Right now you're doing as I would in your place, assessing everything and attempting to establish my intentions so you can weasel your way into some tactical advantage.

	“I applaud your attempt, your majesty, which is why I'll reward you with the answer to your question.” I, or rather he, folds my hands behind my back. I can still feel the crystals in my left palm, but now my right hand clasps over that.

“After all, knowing the answer to that question is precisely part of my plans for you.

“What I want . . . is to rule all of Equestria, and unlike you . . . I rule it through FEAR! Fear will keep them in line, exactly how power like ours should be played.

“Included with that fear, I desire your own as well. I want you to suffer knowing that you soon will be abandoned in this human world while I, meanwhile, return to Equestria and destroy the portal on the other side.”

“You'll never get away with this, Sombra! I will stop you!” Princess Twilight promises harshly.

He tilts my head slightly to the left as he asks, “Now is that any way to address the true future ruler of Equestria? Perhaps you need a reminder who has all the leverage in this situation here.”

The crystals which closely surrounds them grow many inward spikes. They close even further on them, pressing them closer to each other in order to avoid being impaled.

“Let my daughter go!” my mother pleads to me, or rather him. “Please! I'll do anything you say.”

“Then let's start with 'Shut up'!” he orders my mother harshly. “The grown-ups are talking.” He looks back at Princess Twilight. “Now then, your majesty, you were saying?”

This time she says nothing, but she continues to glare at me defiantly.

“Feisty, are we?” Sombra taunts her. “I do recall you declaring that you'll try to rise at me again and again, but guess who keeps coming back to challenge you again and again?” He narrows my eyes at her. “You won a few paltry battles, your majesty, but I plan ahead and will ultimately win the war.”

He makes me take a deep breath then releases it, then says, “You know, your majesty, it just occurred to me that you promised Cozy that you'd free her counterpart, along with Chrysalis and Tirek, then try to redeem them. Cozy's memories also tell me that you were especially interested in Cozy Glow because she is a pony and therefore technically a member of your Queendom.”

“Your point?” Princess Twilight challenges.

Sombra has me wave her aside for a moment as he asks, “I was simply wondering . . . why have you never attempted this with me? Aren't I 'technically' a pony citizen of your lands too?”

Twilight looks surprised and hopeful that he asks. She says, “Yes! You are! If you're willing to join us, we can instead share our power. The power of-”

Twilight got cut off by a scream beside her. She looks to her right, startled, only to find Rainbow Dash got impaled in the shoulder by a crystal spike. Blood oozes down that spike.

Twilight flashes a look of anger towards my body.

“Go on,” he bids her. “I love it when you give me more excuses to enjoy torturing you.”

Twilight holds her harsh glare towards me, but wisely holds her silence this time.

“Oh!” He tilts my head to the right now. “No more pretty and valiant words to say, your majesty?”

Twilight continues to hold her silence.

Sombra sighs, then forces me to say, “Oh, very well. Be that way.

“Be that as it may, our present circumstances are withstanding. Accordingly, I shall leave you all to this miserable world while I return to Equestria and mind rape all of your friends and family, just as you have always FEARED.”

Twilight quakes with fury, but she still continues to hold her silence. She can't move about too much, though. The black crystal spikes all around her and her friends are mere inches away from them. Significantly closer, in Rainbow Dash's case.

“Well, it was a pleasure to see you, as always, your majesty,” Sombra bids as he makes me bow to her a bit. “I'll be sure to pass on your regards to your family when next I see them. Flurry Heart, in particular, could do with some strict re-education.”

“Sombraaaaaa!” Twilight growls harshly. “I swear I will-”

“Rot in this cage while I seize control of Equestria?” Sombra interrupts her. “Good idea! Why haven't I thought of that?

“Adieu, your majesty. May you ever be tortured with nightmares of me raping your friends and family, and this time . . . you don't have Princess Luna to protect you in your dreams. On the contrary, I intend to 'enlighten' her to her true self once again.”

Apparently I take on the shadow form again and fly off into the air.
> Chapter Fourty One: Return to Horse-Land
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

It took me a while to notice this since it is so dark, but as my eyes adjust to the dark, I steadily realize that I can see auras and energy whenever King Sombra transforms me into some smoky cloud form.

Seen from the skewed perspective of the shadow plane from high above the town I live, I realize that it looks like a desolate wasteland that's long been abandoned. It is as if a nuclear holocaust swept through this area centuries ago. What few buildings remain standing seem blackened and decayed.

Seen in this perspective, I don't know how my possessor knows where he is going, but he flies on in a straight and confident course.

Eventually we start to land. I have no idea where until we do land and he transforms us back into human form. Only then is the desolate, warped, shadowy world wiped away and replaced by something far more familiar to me, my home.

Your home, not mine! Sombra bitterly reminds me. I'm about to change that, however.

I know the combination to the front door of my house. You don't need to bust in like a brute.

I'm well aware of that. I know what you know, poppet. There is no need to waste my power unnecessarily right now when there is nopony else here to impress, so for once . . . I'll do things your way.

It's so eerie to watch my own hand punch in the passcode to enter our home without any conscious effort on my part. It makes me feel like this is all a dream.

Sombra proceeds to use my body to open the door and enter it normally, but things change up when K-9 happily yaps up to us in order to greet us. Without looking at it or flinching, Sombra waves one of my hands while I feel dark magic pop around my hand. As a result, K-9 telekinetically lifts up then flings against the wall hard enough to shatter it.

K-9!!! NOOOO!!!

Get a hold of yourself, girl. It is just a worthless toy, Sombra mentally says to me with casual indifference. This is why your plans failed. You get so sentimental over irrelevant trash. As I keep reminding you, make use of your resources only while they are valuable, and discard the rest. Attachment breeds frailty.

I inwardly look at him as an epiphany strikes me. I feel like I'm being schooled in the ways of super-villainy. The more I learn about it from a true master of the art, the more I realize how far from those standards I really am.

And for good reason. I've never been able to force myself to feel or be as empty as he is. I've never been able to be so completely detached and dispassionate about anything. Sometimes I come close, but never to this degree.

I swear, for all the feelings I am detecting from him, or lack thereof, I feel like I'm talking to an illusion. His dark presence fills me, and yet I still feel so alone.

In fact, somehow I feel even more isolated. I don't know why.

“And what do we have here?” Sombra asks aloud as he inspects the thick door which leads to the basement. He uses my hands to pat the seams of the door, then he says, “Most impressive. This door is actually airtight. You humans do occasionally impress me with your craftsmanship.”

I take it that's a problem? You can't just phase through it in mist form?

“I used to be able to before I became more corporeal,” Sombra explains.

Then what are you going to do? You can't get through that door, and Mom surely changed the password.

“No doubt,” Sombra agrees. “I'll have to give Mrs. Sparkle that much credit, at least, but she surely wouldn't be prepared for someone of my resources and tenacity.

“Observe.”

Sombra slams the palm that holds the fused magic crystals on the side of the door that has the hidden hinges. After that, he closes my eyes while he appears to concentrate.

I feel the cold chill of magic tingle all around my body, especially along my arms and hands. The magic pours and seems to seep into the door cracks.

All of my life, I wanted to experience the flow of magic but, now that I am experiencing it for the first time, I sense its draining qualities. I sense how it somehow makes me feel like less than before as if it's trying to turn me into an empty shadow as well.

It still fascinates me, but it also makes me feel like this kind of power is not worth its price. If this kind of magic makes me “fake” somehow, just like he is, then I'd prefer to pass on it.

Sombra, however, doesn't appear to have a soul to suffer the consequences of this kind of magic, so he can draw upon it with impunity.

Maybe, I theorize, he did have a soul at one time, but repeatedly drawing upon this kind of power source drained him of all of his internal color long ago. He seems to enjoy the evil he causes, but I don't sense any true pleasure within him. He's more like a digital character programmed to simulate emotional responses.

Although my eyes are closed, I feel growth under my hands and I hear the groan of strained metal. I eventually realize, with astonishment, he is growing crystal in this tiny seam to rip apart the hinges of the door.

“There.” Sombra opens my eyes then backs off from the door. “That should do it. Now,” he lifts my hand that still clasps the fused crystal, “time to . . . How did you put it?

“Ah yes! Now I remember.

“Time to bust in with brute force!”

Black and purple energy pop dramatically around my hand. The same kind of energy envelops the door. A moment later, it yanks across the hallway so hard and so fast that it almost completely crashes through the wall at the other end of the hallway.

Was that really necessary? I mentally complain to him.

Remember this always, poppet. To subjugate one's enemies and inferiors, never be afraid to employ overwhelming force. It is not always necessary, mind you, but it is an effective tactic to cow one's opposition and set a firm example to the rest which, in turn, squashes would-be future rebellion to one's sovereignty.

Uh-huh. Okay, tough guy. Riddle me this: If your tactics are as effective as you say, then how come you don't already rule Horse-Land?

I hear him growl in annoyance using my body.

Huh? I remind him like mentally poking him with a stick repeatedly.

It's “EQUESTRIA”, my little poppet! Get it right! How many times must I remind you?

	Also, those lands are populated by more than just “horses”, as you like to call us, so your term is a misnomer anyway.

Ooo! I hit a nerve! How fascinating!

I find the fact that he was so eager to change the subject a little adorable. Now I'm learning how to push his buttons. I'll keep a mental note of that. That knowledge might come in handy.

I am forced into a shadowy, smoky form again and fly down the flight of stairs.

You forgot to turn on the light switch back there, genius!

	What need have I of the light when I can see in the DARK?!

For some reason, that declaration chills me.

I fly over to Mother's repaired machine. Once there, I hover over it.

Now what? I mentally ask him. You can't just tear through this obstacle, or you'll destroy what you seek to use, and again . . . Mother must have changed the password by now.

	I have no need of that password. All that would have done is spark the catalyst. That is what your mother programmed this machine to trigger.

	However, I have magic of my own. All I have to do is use it to trigger the correct point myself.

	Give me a moment.

He appears to study the machine for a while. I suspect, because he can see energy in this form, it assists him with his arcane analysis of the machine.

After a long pause, he mentally declares triumphantly, Ah-ha! I see what she did there. Very clever.

	You know what, my little poppet, your mother is actually pretty useful. Maybe I'll return one day and claim her as my slave.

You better not! I threaten.

Or you'll what? Not be my friend anymore?

	Please! Your threats are meaningless to me now.

Sombra zaps energy at a very precise point of the machine then turns to look at the mirror as the energy he shot earlier travels through the machine and, eventually, zaps the mirror which converts it into a portal.

I seeded some crystals in the machine, too, which will expand two minutes after we part from this world, Sombra mentions to me. That will wreck the machine from this end. Now all I have to do is wreck it from the other end.

Then you can never return to my world and enslave anyone, including my mother.

Nor can Princess Twilight get to us either. As long as that remains true, she can never threaten us with her disgusting “friendship” powers, but just in case . . . I'll need to do some tweaking to the minds of the rest of her friends in Equestria.

	I'm leaving her Majesty here so she can fully absorb the pain of her failure, but I won't make the mistake of leaving the rest of her friends' minds and spirits intact. Knowing that I'm enslaving them will also further serve to torture Twilight.

	Ever consider why that tactic would work, if it does?

Foolish sentiments. The typical calling card of the weak.

	If they are so weak, then how were they able to beat you?

	Through the Magic of Harmony, Sombra explains. But I'll soon make short work of that. I won't underestimate them again.

You already did. You could have killed them in your crystal prison back there.

	Ah, but where is the fun in that? Death would release her from her suffering, and I'm much too cruel to permit that.

	You arrogant asshole!

He makes me shrug as he mentally says, Well, if it works. Only the winners of the war write the tale.

	Careful. The credits to this story aren't rolling yet.

	Sombra almost proceeds through the mirror, but pauses in confusion as he is momentarily wondering what I meant by that statement, most likely because he didn't understand the movie term “rolling credits”.

I get the feeling he consults my memories to help explain that one because, a moment later, he shrugs carelessly.

Well now, say goodbye to your disgusting human form.

	Or, should I say, my human form? This is my new body, after all.

Call it what you will, I tell him with a mentally dejected sigh. I don't care anymore. I feel like I'm basically dead anyway. I lost everything I ever cared about, so the rest of my life doesn't matter anymore.

	That's the spirit! He mentally encourages me before diving through the mirror in mist form.




* * *




I land on the other side of the portal in a heap. After that, I seem to momentarily lose consciousness but, when it returns, I am not the one opening my eyes, crawl into a sitting position, and examine my forward hooves.

Nor am I the one that starts a burst of maniacal laughter about that fact.

Something is wrong! The more I experience it, the more I am certain.

I can hear Sombra's maniacal laughter. I can feel it vibrating my throat and collapsing my chest somewhat, but inwardly . . . nothing but cold emptiness. I sense thought, but not even the slightest bit of emotion. He is action and thought without substance. It's almost as if he's not really here.

“I've always known that I would return to my ancestral home from the Nether,” Sombra brags proudly out loud. “I didn't, however, foresee that I would return as a lowly mare, of all things, but eh . . . I return none the less.”

Lowly? I mentally ask him in a tone of objection. I admit, there might not be many that can kick your butt, but that's hardly a fair assessment. That hardly makes us weak.

“I beg to differ,” Sombra says aloud in a tone of disgust.

Didn't a group of mares keep kicking your butt in the past? Maybe it's not so wise to underestimate us.

	Besides, where would you be without us? I'm sure life would not be much fun, and without us . . . you wouldn't have life at all!

Sombra makes me shrug as he picks up the fused, multi-color crystal as he admits, “True. I suppose you have a point, which is why I must prepare for what is to come.”

He squashes the crystal between both of my hooves. I notice it change shape. It now looks like an elongated and curved horn with a base twice as thick in the middle of the horn. It also has a pointy tip at two points. The most pronounced is at one end and a two-inch needle is below the base.

I must warn you . . . this next move is going to hurt . . . a lot!

Hmm? What are you-?

I notice the crystal horn levitating above my head. The two-inch needle end aims at my forehead.

If I can widen my eyes in horror at that moment, I would.

What are you-?

	NO! SOMBRA, WAIT!

An unbelievable amount of stabbing pain shoots into my now pony-shaped skull. The worst part about it is that pain spread from my forehead and seems to crawl along many of my veins.

I would have given a shrill scream if I could still control my body. As it is, I do so inwardly.

Sombra, however, takes it like a champ. He barely utters more than a few painful grunts through my body.

I don't know how long we both suffer this agonizing torture. When it finally passes, I feel so drained.

Once it is done, Sombra reaches up to my forehead and applies a bit of pressure to a new artificial appendage extending upward from my forehead. Just the merest touch shoots another wave of pain throughout my body, but the fact he applied additional pressure to that touch marks him as a true sadist.

You're HORRIBLE! I mentally complain. Don't do that to me again!

It was necessary to bind us even closer to this power source. If I'm going to return to my homeworld and take it over, I'll do it as a unicorn . . . even if the “horn” is artificial, in this case.

	But, in conjunction with your wings, Sombra mentally says in an admiring tone as he looks upon them, I guess this simulates my ascension into an alicorn, except not really yet. Soon, though, I shall claim their immortality.

	As it stands, I do have alternate methods to extend my life already. I have ways that most other ponies would consider to be dark and unnatural.

	Hmm. It just occurred to me . . . this end of the portal is a mirror too, isn't it?

	Well then. Let's see what I have to work with here.

Oh, please do! I look very adorable as a pony!

He lifts my left eyebrow as he asks aloud, “Are you trying to disgust me?”

No, but . . . is it working?

“Honestly, yes! So stop it unless you want me to touch my horn again!”

Eeep!

	I'll be a good girl! I promise!

Sombra approaches then spins about to view herself through the mirror.

As I expect, my clothes are gone again. I guess that isn't that much of a loss in this world, though it does tend to make it harder to disguise oneself. I should know.

The “horn” is a new feature, though. It protrudes from my forehead like a gaping wound. In fact, blood is still trickling down my forehead.

But the horn does not stop there. Jagged lines of black crystal seem to spread away from my forehead, down my neck, and extend . . . well, pretty much everywhere on the visible parts of my new horse body.

Gods! No wonder it hurt like the dickens earlier! In fact, I am still concerned that this raises serious medical issues for us.

“Hmm. Not bad,” Sombra admires with a dim smirk on my face, but it immediately drops when he focuses on my mane style. Looking at that, he drops my eyelids halfway. “Seriously, poppet, how can you stand that disgusting thing? It looks like a bird’s nest on top of your head.”

Hey! Lay off the insults, will ya? It's my body . . . or at least it was. I think it's cute!

“And that argument is supposed to entice me . . . how?” he challenges me.

Because . . . you have to be nice to girls? I ask in a hopeful and adorable rising mental inflection. It's the polite thing to do.

“I don't need courtesy because I am a KING! I don't need to appease my lessers. Instead, they all bow to me!”

My “horn” flares with magic. As a result of it, he uncurls my mane. Not only that, but my mane seems to float up in a motion akin to a flickering flame. After that, he examines my reflection in the mirror again. He winces, but not as severely this time.

“That's a bit better,” he grumbles in a grumpy way.

Meanie!

	“It's my body now! I make the rules regarding it.

	“And, ah . . .” he sighs in annoyance as he continues to regard my pony face, “. . . I can see that it's going to take a lot of adjustments to make this,” he gestures at my reflection with a hoof, “into a fearsome impression again. I'll need to figure out how to scare as a mare.

“Hmm.” He rubs my chin with a hoof thoughtfully. “Maybe I should create a scary mask to hide this disgusting face.”

I inwardly cringe at the thought. I always figured that being cute is my strongest selling point. I can see that it's going to take him a long time to realize that girls play through life using a very different set of rules. We're powerful too, but in our own way.

I'm so worried that, one day, I'll grow so accustomed to his disgusting changes in me that I won't even care anymore. Until then, my discomfort proves to myself that I still have a human heart.

Which is far more than I can say for him! I'm not even sure if he has a pony heart. Maybe he never did, but that seems unlikely unless he really was born an empty asshole.

“Well,” he waves a hoof through my straighter mane, “I suppose this will have to do . . . for now.

	“And now to destroy the mirror itself, unless . . .”

For the first time, it seems as though he's carefully evaluating his surroundings.

See something interesting?

“Yes. The energy of this place. It feels . . . familiar to me.”

Familiar in what way?

I take the smoky shadow form again, apparently. From that form, Sombra more carefully studies the energy he sees all over this room, particularly in the walls, ceiling, and floor.

After that, he shifts back to pony form and presses both of my forward hooves into the ground. He closes my eyes for a good long while, then I feel him making me smirk a bit.

“Ah! I see! So this place was grown from the Tree of Harmony!”

Is that significant?

“Yes, my little poppet! It is!”

How so?

“It means this place is an extension of a power center for my enemies. Twilight Sparkle and her so-called 'friends' draw their strength from the Elements of Harmony which was grown from the Tree of Harmony. Power like that can be a severe threat to me, so it must be expunged. I know that the Tree itself is no more, but this place is a remnant of it.”

So . . . what are you going to do?

“Do?” He forces my lips into an evil smirk. “Well, my little poppet, I'm going to finish what I started!

“Behold my POWER!”

He slams both of my forehooves hard onto the ground and pours a lot of energy into the floor. He smiles widely with a gaping maw that drools as he savors the look of a black stain spread away from the point where my hooves slammed into the ground.

A black spot spread all around then past me. It looks like tiny, 2D tendrils made of shadow lead a few inches around the spreading circle.

I watch in a mixture of fascination and horror as the entire floor turns black from the spreading corruption. After that, the blackness crawls up along the walls, then the ceiling. I can only imagine that it spreads further beyond that point. It also seems that, the more it spreads, the faster it spreads.

“This castle . . . and all who dwell within it . . . shall crumble and fall!” Sombra promises as he raises my forehooves slowly and dramatically. “Darkness spreads, twisting it and feeding it! The writhing agony of this castle is the lifeblood of this curse! All who oppose it shall suffer with no end in sight!”

Geez! I gasp in horror at him. Lighten up, will ya?

“You are beholding a momentous and historic moment!” Sombra promises me with that same dramatic flair. “The fall of the previous regime marks the beginning of another! Once my regime starts, it shall see no end! I'll make sure of that!”

And look super adorable while doing it, too! I tease.

King Sombra gives me an inward glare, then taps my new horn to punish me.
> Chapter Fourty  Two: Behold my Power!
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Damage to the crystal castle continues. After the blackness engulfs the castle, red, glowing, pulsating veins seem to spread out within the walls, floors, and ceilings of the castle. Near those veins, cracks spread. From those cracks, black smoke leaks from them and floats upwards.

Eventually King Sombra turns my body into black smoke as well. We float up and appear to merge with the black smoke spreading throughout the castle.

In this form, it's hard to tell, but I think we navigate our way through the cracks in the ceiling and walls until we float out of the castle above it.

We continue to float off with a huge stream of black smoke floating up into the sky. We merge with a black, growing, and deeply menacing storm cloud high above Ponyville.

While still in smoke form, I feel King Sombra churn and agitate the magic within the storm cloud. The result is the intensity of the storm greatly increases and expands. Thunder proceeds to roll across the sky. Lightning flashes out of the clouds. Each time it does so, the bolts get more frequent and closer to the village.

After a while, Sombra and I peer down towards the village. From high above, I see the heavily warped perception of Ponyville.

The story is rather similar to what I saw back in my own human town. Here, I see homes black with decay. The main difference is this village appears to be buried in snow, except that snow is black as if made of frozen ash. In addition to the dark lightning storm, I also see a frosty blizzard choking the life out of the village.

While staring at this, I gain a distinct feeling that the black snow is far more menacing than it appears, and it appears very menacing. My gut tells me that the black snow has life-sapping properties, probably like necromancy that I've seen in some online video games.

In time, I eventually come to the conclusion that the reason I have this feeling is because it's a memory from Sombra. It's as if he's seen this phenomenon before.

I also get a distinct impression that the panicking creatures down below can see us as giant, glowing, menacing eyes staring down at them from within the black, flashing storm cloud, much as I had in one of my own nightmares some moons ago.

Listen to it, my little poppet! Listen to their screams of panic and pain! It is GLORIOUS!

	If you say so, I return to him in as careless a mental tone as I can muster but, in truth, I am cringing with guilt and worry. I know what this world did to my pony counterpart, but it still feels painful to me to watch them suffer like this.

The strange thing is, this used to be a secret wish of mine in the heat of anger after I discovered my counterpart's fate. Now that it's actually happening, I'm surprised to discover how much horror I feel over this scene.

Realizing this, it makes me wonder how much I've changed since the last time I visited this place. Either that, or I'm a much nicer person deep down than even I have given myself credit for.

“For the record, the answer to your question is no,” Rarity once replied to me when I asked her if she thought I was irredeemably evil. “On the contrary, I actually think you are a rather good girl at heart who has made some awful choices lately. After all, someone who was truly irredeemably evil wouldn't bother to ask that question at all. She wouldn't care, or she would enjoy it.”

Although part of me wanted to think Rarity really believed that, I did not. Or rather to say, I had serious doubts.

But now, when I compare myself to someone who truly is irredeemably evil, I am noticing some glaring differences between me and him for the first time. Differences that help to illuminate who I am deep down.

King Sombra is overlooking this scene, and he is enjoying it, or rather he seems too, but I sense nothing but emptiness when I examine him inwardly. I've been more emotionally moved before with fictional characters in a movie. Sombra, in contrast, feels so fake.

Fake . . . like I have been for so many years.

This symphony is intoxicating! At last, Equestria shall know that their TRUE ruler has returned.

	Let us not tarry our introductions any further. I am eager to greet my new slaves up close.

	I can't believe a place as innocent as Horse-Land also produced a monster like you!

	Why thank you!

	Also, it's EQUESTRIA! Get it right!

	I'll call it what I will. You may be controlling my body, your majesty, but you do not control my mind.

I hear him sigh, then he says, FINE! Call it what you will. I care not.

Now that was an interesting response. He used to rag on me about respect and authority, so why does he give me so much leeway now? He doesn't seem to be holding back as much against anyone else.

This might be noteworthy. I'll need to remember it.

My perception seems to zoom rapidly to the ground. It takes me a moment to notice that I am now actually on the ground. It reminds me of the column of smoke that shot down from the black and stormy clouds in my nightmare moons ago. Now I know what it looks like when seen from the other perspective.

Startled ponies turn to face me, or at least I think they are ponies. They look more like zombie ponies to me. Their hide is heavily emaciated. They also lack eyes. In its place is dark, sunken black voids.

“King Sombra? What are you doing here?!” one of the ponies asks in surprise. The voice of this pony is highly distorted. It sort of sounds like one who was dehydrated for weeks. The scratchy voice barely groans out. I can't even tell which gender this pony has, but I'm leaning heavily on it being a mare. Based on the height, definitely an adult horse, in any case.

“I've been told by my friends that you were defeated long ago,” the same horse spoke on.

“The details of my demise have been somewhat . . . exaggerated,” King Sombra announces smuggly. Interestingly enough, I did not hear my own voice within that multi-tone this time. This time, it sounded entirely male. “Regardless, I've come to correct that little oversight.”

“Not if I can help it!” the pathetic looking emaciated pony groans as she (?) spreads his/her legs into a battle stance. “I'll send you back to the Nether where you belong, demon!” the pony promises.

That declaration causes King Sombra to quietly laugh maniacally. During that time, I seem to shift back into a corporeal form. Because of that, my perception of the rest of the world alters. It is enough to realize that the pony who spoke all along is Starlight Glimmer.

By turning into a corporeal form, that also means that the citizens of Ponyville can get a clearer look at me as well. As a result, they gasp in shock.

“Wha . . .?” Starlight blinks in bewilderment at me. “Cozy? Why are you . . .” Starlight trails off, then narrows her eyes at me. “No. You're not Cozy Glow! I was right the first time! I am addressing King Sombra within Cozy Glow!”

“Well done!” King Sombra commends her. Once again, I hear my own voice speak as a part of his. “You’ve got a sharp mind about you. I'm sure it will be delicious as I crush your will!”

Starlight Glimmer widens her eyes when she realizes something startling, then she exclaims, “Oh my Celestia!” She narrows her eyes at me again. “What have you done with Twilight?”

King Sombra does not verbally reply. Instead, he simply passes Starlight a sinister grin.

Since I am inside of him, I sense him thinking that saying nothing would be more terrifying rather than giving an explanation. That way Starlight's imagination could work against her.

“Sunburst, Trixie, listen to me very carefully!” Starlight instructs in a commanding tone. “Get every creature as far away from here as you can. While you do that, I'll hold him off.”

“That's crazy talk!” Sunburst exclaims behind and to the left of Starlight. “You can't hold him off all alone!”

Despite the fact that this is the first time I've met him in pony form, I still easily recognize him. Both of them have the same voice, facial hairstyle, glasses, and even the star cape.

Inwardly, I sense that Sombra is less familiar with Sunburst, but he knows who Sunburst is regardless, primarily because he is stealing my knowledge from my physical brain.

“Indeed!” A blue unicorn mare, who is wearing a very gaudy and familiar purple cape and hat with stars, speaks up behind to the right of Starlight. “The Great and Powerful Trixie never would even think of abandoning her closest-”

A sharp look at Trixie from me, or rather the one controlling my body, instantly silences and cows her. During that moment, my vision appears to flash for a second. I'm assuming they saw a similar flash of light from my eyes.

“We do not have time to argue like this!” Starlight says insistently. “We have a responsibility to our students. Take them and GO! Warn the others in town too, when able.”

“I, um . . . the Great and Powerful Trixie sees your point,” Trixie agrees with tiny eyes due to fright. Despite this, she fluffs her white mane for a second in an arrogant pose. An instant later, she pretends to be severely cocky as she declares, “Very well! Trixie shall be the star of her own show in her own way! Trixie shall lead the other students to safety, and all shall be in awe of the Great-”

“Just GO!” Starlight screams instantly and insistantly.

This takes Trixie aback for a moment, but then she huffs as she closes her eyes. “Fine! Be that way.” She then lifts a familiar-looking glass orb above her head. “Come, my students! It is time we make our hasty escape!”

She chucks the orb down and, just as I figure, blue smoke explodes from it which quickly conceals her exit and everyone else.

“Remember, Starlight, don't let him inflict you with his Fear Curse!” Sunburst warns as he gallops away with the others.

Sombra seems intrigued by this new development. He makes me scan among the blue smoke for a moment, then focuses his attention on Starlight.

“Okay, Sombra! It's just you and me now!” Starlight declares. “Since you're unwilling to tell me what you've done with Twilight, then I'll ignore you and simply speak to another.” Starlight's expression shifts to eager concern. “Cozy Glow, if you are in there, please listen to me!”

I'M HERE, STARLIGHT!

I wish I could tell her this, but my voice is silenced since my body won't obey me anymore. Realizing that, I feel a profound sense of loss. I gave it up so easily. I wish I had known how much, and how quickly, I would come to regret that decision before I made it.

Sombra's sinister grin spreads as he announces, “There is no Cozy! Only MEEEEE!” He narrows my eyes at her. “You waste your breath, Starlight!”

As promised, Starlight ignores him and keeps on speaking directly to me.

“Listen, Cozy, I want to express to you how sorry I am!” Starlight conveys very emotionally. Some tears even “glimmer” in her eyes.

Sorry? For what?

“I'm sorry that I treated you as if you were a monster,” Starlight explains, almost as if she is reading my thoughts.

Sombra's eyes return to normal except for raising an eyebrow at Starlight curiously.

I sense that he's aware that Starlight is merely stalling him, but he's grown too intrigued to interrupt this. He wants to see where this leads as well.

During that time, he also reviews my stolen memories of my last encounter with Starlight in order to get more context to this conversation.

While he does that, I have a suspicion that he might understand some of the things that went over my head at the time.

“Twilight was right! You're not the same Cozy as the one from our world, and it was unfair to treat you accordingly. In my defense,” she places a hoof to her chest, “if you have experienced what I have with your counterpart, you might understand the reasons why I felt taking certain precautions was necessary, but I beg you . . . please believe me that I, in no way, had any intentions to harm you. On the contrary, I, too, had high hopes for you! Everything Twilight told me about your relationship with your mother and friends in your world sounded wonderful! I just wanted to make sure before rushing into anything.”

I feel remorseful as I realize that Starlight did indeed have every reason to fear me. I am an awful person. I lied, cheated, manipulated, and betrayed so many, even those I deeply cared about.

If I could take it all back, I think I would. I'm tired of living a lie, and I'm tired of feeling like an awful person. Even if it means going to jail, I wish I could gain an opportunity to set everything right. That's what everyone else deserves for all the good that they have showered upon me.

Still, with tears in her eyes, Starlight narrows her eyes at me a bit as she goes on to say, “Twilight also told me you are a strong and confident person. She told me that you are a leader, like Twilight and I, so I know you also have the strength within you to take BACK what is stolen from you!

“Fight him, Cozy Glow! I know you can do it! I believe in you!”

“Are you done?” Sombra asks Starlight a bit impatiently as he tilts my head slightly to the right. “Wonderful speech, Starlight! You don't just claim to be a leader, you prove it. How marvelous. Since I am aware of that now, I shall savor the moment when I BREAK you all the more!”

“NEVER!” Starlight barks at Sombra harshly, finally addressing him directly. “I will NEVER allow you to break my spirit! Not again! Not EVER again!

“The last time we met, you caught me unprepared. I vowed to remember that lesson, and I have ever since!

“You're not looking at the same mare that I was all those years ago! I've changed! I've gotten better! I have trained with the greatest wizards of our entire land, and I've mastered new spells in my own right. You won't find me the same pushover like I was last time!”

“Gooooooooood!” Sombra expresses with a sinister purr. “I like a challenge, for I so rarely get one of those. Be sure not to disappoint me, now, after making such lofty and ultimately foolish claims.”

“Oh ho-ho! You want a challenge?” Starlight Glimmer asks in a daring tone. “Well then, bring . . . it . . . on!” Starlight narrows her eyes further and further with the last three words of her sentence.

At first, both Starlight and I do nothing other than stare at each other. Each of us is sizing the other up. The only move either of us makes during this time is a cracking of a neck or joint in our leg, but we never stop glaring at each other's eyes with a focused gaze.

Meanwhile, the thunderstorm Sombra caused continues to rage above our heads. Several cracks of lightning finally make it to several of the homes in Ponyville. As a result, they start to catch fire.

Ominous winds blow between and all around Starlight and I. It makes both of our manes wave about, but we ignore that as we continue to focus sharply at each other.

Screams of panicked citizens of the town fill the air, forming into a wild cacophony all around us.

The Crystal Castle continues to spew black smoke into the sky in the background. The Crystal Tree itself sort of looks like a blackened, withered husk with pulsating red glowing veins that spew the smoke.

Deep down, part of me hopes Starlight will win. I even welcome the prospect of her killing me because, if she does so, at least that will set my spirit free.

I never thought I would cheer for an enemy set against me, but here we are.

Then, suddenly, Starlight leaps up high into the air far too high to be natural under her leg power alone. Up above, she quickly gathers energy which swirls up her horn before making a blast so strong that it suspends her in the air.

It is likely that Starlight tries to attack me from above in order to catch Sombra off guard, but it does not work. He meets her challenge with a hornbeam of his own. The two beams clash and struggle between each other. During this time, Sombra makes an interesting observation.

“Hmm. Although your hornbeam is formidable and well cast, something is lacking in its strength. Are you holding back?” Then he realizes something. “Ah! I get it now. This is a stun hornbeam! Even now, you are holding back because of your foolish sentiment over this girl I am wearing?”

“Of course!” Starlight whole-heartedly agrees. “I won't rest until I rescue every creature from you, including Cozy Glow!” Starlight says determinedly. “That is not your body, Sombra, and I will see it returned to its proper owner! I owe her that much!”

While they spoke to each other, the hornbeams continued to clash with each other.

You hear that, little poppet? The fool thinks she can actually “rescue” you. HA! Such foolish sentiment. This really does seem to be the hallmark of an inferior sex.

	She has no idea that you gave your body to me willingly.

	Don't remind me, I bitterly but also somberly complain.

If friendship is a myth, then Starlight clearly believes in it, almost religiously. It's hard for me to believe that she's fighting this hard just to rescue me. I'm the one who betrayed them earlier. Why does she care so much for me?

This reminds me of my mom.

All of a sudden Sombra's hornbeam collides with nothing. Instead, his beam shoots into the empty sky. That is because Starlight suddenly teleports below my height in a crouched position. From below, she angles her next shot diagonally upward which solidly connects into my chest.

It is hard to describe the pain that follows except to compare it to an electric shock. It also leaves a lot of lingering heat in my body. My nerves quickly deaden, becoming numb. My consciousness also wavers for a moment, but Sombra is able to fight through it. He rises from it and focuses again.

By the time he does that, Starlight already adjusts her tactics. Since her hornbeam propels my body upward, Starlight seals the deal by locking my body in the air with a telekinetic aura. Using that same aura, Starlight forces each of my limbs to spread apart in an X pattern. She also forces my head to look straight ahead. From this position, Sombra is unable to aim his “horn” downward at her.

“Yield, Sombra! It's over!” Starlight demands. While she says that, she keeps concentrating to keep my body locked and suspended in mid-air.

Sombra laughs maniacally, but only for four seconds. After that, he says, “So foolish! You cannot restrain the King of Darkness!”

He charges his “horn” with something then causes a burst of energy. That seems to blow away Starlight's telekinetic hold and yet, strangely, he does not fall.

It takes me a moment to realize, with a start, that he is continuing to suspend my body in mid-air by flapping my wings down which hovers me in place.

What?! I ask him in astonished disbelief. Not even I could do that! How did you figure out how to fly so quickly?

He chuckles at me darkly, then answers, Instinct. Such things are bred into your species. I know how to wield pony bodies, and I am far better at it than you.

	I can't argue with that.

	Besides, you're not the first pony to be possessed by me.

	Really? Do tell.

Perhaps later. I'm a bit busy at the moment.

“Flying already, I see,” Starlight observes. “I didn't think you'd have it in you. You weren't a pegasus before in life.”

“I am full of surprises!” Sombra brags to Starlight with supreme arrogance.

“Oh yeah?” Starlight grows a cocky smirk. “Well, that makes two of us, buster!”

Starlight surprises both of us by suspending herself in her own telekinetic aura then hovers up to match our height.

I didn't know unicorns could do that! I gasp in inward astonishment. Okay. That seals the deal. Unicorns in Horse-Land are O-P as fuck!

But of course, Sombra inwardly agrees arrogantly. We are the superior master race, especially those of us who know how to use our magic well.

“Well-well,” Sombra gives a slow clap of my forward hooves. “Congratulations. Very few unicorns can match me when it comes to the high ground like this. In some ways, you remind me of an old nemesis of mine a little more than a century ago.”

“If you think you're impressed with me now, then just wait! I'm just getting warmed up!” Starlight brags.

“Indeed.” Sombra narrows my eyes at her and gives a sinister smile. “Show me your power! I wish to assess the full capabilities of my new slave!”

“Oh, I'll give you far more than you can assess!” Starlight boasts as she flies off quickly while charging her horn. “Try to keep up with me!” she dares.

King Sombra takes the bait by attempting to fly off to chase after Starlight. As Starlight and I weave through the air, we blast hornbeams back and forth to each other. Sometimes we dodge, sometimes we block with an energy or crystal shield, and Starlight occasionally dodges by teleporting out of the way. Usually, whenever she did that, she attempts to get herself into a favorable tactical position.

Over time, Sombra catches on to her tricks, but Starlight clearly is the better flier, which makes sense since Sombra just now started to learn how to fly using wings.

He is doing too well for a first-time flier. Perhaps he did possess a pegasus before.

Still, I feel cautious to just take his word for it, for an Element of Honesty he is certainly not.

Neither am I, which is why I'm in the habit of guarding myself against accepting other people's words.

One extra challenge for both of us is the fierce wind storms buffeting us about or the occasional stabbing crackle of lightning.

While this continues, I marvel at the spectacle of our magical duel. I try to remind myself that not every pony can fight like this, especially while shooting magical hornbeams at each other in mid-air. Usually only alicorns can do that, but neither of us are, which is why this fight probably is rather unique.

Magic is amazing, especially to witness masters at the craft duel each other. It kind of makes me wish I was born a pony and a unicorn in this world. I wonder if my pony counterpart felt this kind of jealousy, hence her attempts to get rid of all magic just to equalize the playing field.

Despite Starlight's overall upper hand (or is it upper hoof?), Sombra ultimately wins this round due largely to a lucky break.

Starlight backs off while trading horn blast beams between Sombra and herself when, all of a sudden, a bolt of lightning strikes down hard only fifteen feet behind her. Although it does not hit her directly (likely it would have been fatal if it had), Starlight gets distracted in a crucial moment. She grits her teeth, her eye pupils shrink, her mane briefly seems to stand up on end, she stiffens but also shivers. Most importantly, she makes the mistake of looking behind her to gauge how close that bolt of lightning just barely missed her.

During that brief moment of distraction, a black crystal javelin is already on it's way to Starlight. To ensure that it hits, Sombra seizes Starlight in a telekinetic aura that not only freezes her but sends her directly into the path line of the projectile. As a result, it plunges deeply near her stomach, but lower than that. It's closer to her left hind hip.

Starlight screams in pain as she descends, then suddenly teleports on the ground to prevent the building momentum of her fall. She ends up landing softly on the ground, but with a large black javelin-like crystal protruding near her left hind hip.

After Sombra lands my body near Starlight, he advances me slowly and menacingly towards her. Meanwhile, Starlight painfully tries to crawl up to a standing position but overwhelming shooting pain prevents her from holding her balance.

“Well, is that it?” Sombra taunts her. “Is that all you got?”

“I'm . . . still just getting started!” Starlight growls in determination. She is struggling to hold an angry and defiant face rather than showing any fear. That quickly washes away, however, when Sombra telekinetically seizes the black crystal and cruelly twists it inside of her. Screaming in agony, Starlight falls back onto the ground.

“No-no-no, my little pony! I'm not done toying with you yet!”

Sombra gives a horn blast beam but, rather than hitting her, he hits his own black crystal. It seems to charge it with black and purple popping energy. After that, the crystal transforms into the same type of energy then sinks into Starlight's body through her open wound. As a result, Starlight screams again as purple and black energy seems to sear her flesh but, unexpectedly, the wound closes a moment later, apparently fully healed. It may have been a very painful heal (like cauterizing a wound with hot iron), but he apparently undid the damage he caused earlier none the less.

Both Starlight and I are surprised by this uncharacteristic show of sudden mercy. She looks back at her former wound with wonder. She notices it is gone. She still winces in some lingering pain, but there does not seem to be any major damage left. She looks back up at me for an explanation.

“As I said, I'm not done toying with you yet,” Sombra reminds Starlight. “I don't want you passing out since it eliminates my opportunity to torture you further. Besides, I want you to show me more of your delicious POWER!”

In revulsion, I sense he's telling the absolute truth. Sombra only healed her because A, he is arrogant as fuck, and B, he cruelly wants to prolong her suffering, the nihilistic bastard!

I feel shocked to notice this level of depravity in anyone. I thought people like this only existed in pure fiction. I was aware of the concept, but it felt like a myth. I didn't believe it just as much as I thought friendship was fake too, but apparently, I am learning a lot today.

“Well gee, thanks, but . . . you're going to regret that!” Starlight warns as she makes her way back on her hooves. “Your arrogance shall be your downfall, Sombra!”

“And your doom shall be yours!” Sombra returns evenly. “Come now, Starlight Glimmer! Let's resume our little dance!” Sombra makes me bow as he waves my forward right hoof to my chest. “Shall we begin?” he invites with sinister delight.

“Oh-ho! We shall!” Starlight accepts as she faces me fully with a daring smirk. “I've studied magic all my life. During that time, I have encountered many rare and powerful spells, including a very old spell, Similo Duplexus. When combined with Accelero in just the right way . . .” Starlight charges her horn then seems to cast something. As a result, her entire body seems to vibrate quickly at the molecular level. Seconds later, a second copy of her shoots five feet to her left. After that, both versions of her say simultaneously, “I can literally be in two places at once.”

Sombra lifts my left eyebrow at this as he makes me say, “Impressive.” He narrows my eyes and grows an evil smile at her as he says, “Indeed you are powerful and resourceful, Starlight Glimmer! I shall enjoy crushing your mind and making you mine!”

“You'll have to catch us first!” the two Starlight's taunt simultaneously then suddenly rush away from each other so fast that they leave a purple streak of light following after them.

Sombra tries in vain to visually track both Starlight Glimmers, but all he could manage to do is catch a faint trail of their purple streak. They are literally moving faster than the eye can see.

Sombra can't even track his target, let alone attack them. Starlight, however, did not have the same problem. In fact, by making a copy of herself, she doubled the number of actions she can make at once, and both of them are moving at super speed on top of that.

For a short while, Sombra is overwhelmed by this tactic. Now the hornbeams are landing on me hit after hit too fast to be able to react effectively. Sometimes Starlight also grabs me in a telekinetic hold and uses it to freeze me to make sure the other hornbeam hits.

Eventually, however, Sombra adjusts his tactics by turning into black mist. At one point I even see my vision split further apart as one of Starlight's hornbeams passes between my eyes, apparently at empty space due to the morphic shift. During this time, Sombra also morphs his wounds to heal the nerve damage of the hornbeams that hit earlier.

Sombra laughs maniacally loudly, then cries out, “YES! THIS IS MORE LIKE IT! MORE! SHOW ME MORE OF YOUR POWER, and soon to be mine!

	“Well done, Starlight Glimmer! Now this is more entertaining, so I'll up the ante as well! HAVE AT YOU!”

He morphs me back to pony form and lifts both forward hooves up which tremble. I also feel a huge chill on my soul as he summons a huge degree of dark magic. As a result, many spike-like towers of black crystal tear out of the earth and grow to enormous towers all around me.

Inwardly, I also sense something else important. I realize that Sombra's plan is to get Starlight Glimmer to exhaust her magical energy while demonstrating to him what she's capable of so that he will wield her all the better later on.

Meanwhile, unlike her, the magic he's drawing upon is the crystal on my forehead, and he is convinced that it is an unlimited resource that he can tap.

I realize that, if he's correct, then this is a war of attrition. His plan is to outlast his opponent. At the same time, with any blow she successfully lands, he can simply heal himself with his infinite supply of magic. With an advantage like that, this battle can only go one way in the long run.

The only way Starlight can win true victory in this fight is to wipe out all of Sombra's consciousness in one blow, thus making sure he has no time to recover later. However, any attack powerful enough to do that would likely risk major damage to me, and he knows Starlight is too “soft” for that.

As a result of all of this, he feels arrogantly invincible. He just might be right, at least with this match up.

While all of this is going on, both Starlight's are zipping around at super speed. I can't tell for sure, but I think she made additional clones of herself. If I had to guess, I'd say we're dealing against a total of four versions of her now.

Sombra notices this too, and he is pleased. The more versions of her there are, the faster she'll drain through her magic. She has to capitalize on her advantage quickly or he'll easily outlast her.

I realize, with a thread of hope, that Starlight might realize that as well. She must have had a good look at my artificial horn by now. I don't know if that's enough to properly identify it, but maybe it at least gave her some idea of its capabilities. Maybe Starlight is building on her momentum because she realizes there is no other way to seal her victory.

Damn, I respect that mare so much! I suspect she's the underdog in this situation and she knows it, yet she bravely holds her ground. Not only is she brave, but she's resourceful and smart. With each passing second, she is carefully assessing her opponent and calculating a way to actually win this fight even if the odds are stacked against her.

Aside from that, I also recall that another of her objectives is to stall Sombra from going after anyone else. That much, at least, she is definitely successfully accomplishing.

You go, girl! Kick his ass! Kill me if you have to!

If you seriously believe that everyone else is your friend, then do what is necessary to secure victory. In order to win against such an overwhelming force, sacrifices must be made. Do whatever is necessary to protect your most important chess pieces. To do that, you must give up whatever is expendable.

Please, Starlight! Abandon your foolish hopes to save me. That will only end in vain, and I'm not worth it anyway.

I wish to God that I could explain to her all the reasons that I'm not worth it.

The multiple towers of black crystal spread out many jagged spikes from the larger base. It spreads about one hundred feet in every direction around each of the crystal towers. In the process, some homes get shredded.

Not only does Starlight dodge these crystal spikes, but she rushes into other pony homes and teleports those in danger to safety.

Noticing this, it gives Sombra a sinister idea.

Some of the crystal towers break apart, especially along the upper ends of the towers. They become many giant chunks spinning in the air telekinetically. He breaks them further apart then rains crystal destruction following Starlight Glimmer's speed streaks. In the process, he further shreds apart more of the pony homes, and again Starlight rushes in to save them.

“Your mercy is your weakness, and the weak shall crumble before my overwhelming might!” Sombra taunts aloud. “BEHOLD MY POWER!”

This time my whole body trembles due to the huge influx of dark magic he is channeling. I feel my soul growing colder as the magic attempts to sap my emotions.

As a result of all of this, many of the crystal towers shatter into much smaller pieces which hover in the air. After that, it starts spinning all around me. Sombra laughs maniacally (as usual, the predictable and cliché bastard) then transforms into a giant cloud of black smoke. That smoke whirls around, becoming a tornado. The crystal shards spin around and within the black tornado, a tornado which also has menacing red and green eyes with purple wisps trailing after it. He even draws in some of the storm clouds up above, becoming a tornado of flashing lightning, thunder, black smoke, and loose crystal shards.

As a stormy, smoky, and crystal shard-filled tornado, Sombra deliberately steers himself towards the other homes of Ponyville. They start to crumble when he draws near them then definitely get shred apart when he comes at them directly.

Screams of panic from the innocent citizens of the town fill the air. Meanwhile, Starlight races into each of the homes using her multiple clones and teleports them to safety, or at least defends them with an energy shield. I also suspect she creates even more clones just to be able to do all of this in time to rescue them.

Sombra roars with delight as he continues his path line of rampant destruction until one of the Starlight's teleports and flies in front of the eyes of the black tornado. She has to struggle hard to maintain her position in order to resist being swept up by the air currents.

“HEY, SOMBRA!” Starlight Glimmer shouts at Sombra in order to be loud enough to be heard. In fact, I suspect her voice is even magically augmented because it seems to echo across the landscape with each and every word.

She goes on to say using this volume, “WHY ARE YOU ATTACKING THE INNOCENT CITIZENS OF PONYVILLE WHEN I AM YOUR OPPONENT?”

Intrigued, Sombra pauses to assess her.

During this time, the tornado slows down its speed and the thunderstorm considerably lowers in volume. As a result, the next time Starlight speaks, she doesn't have to shout nearly as hard.

“I THOUGHT YOU WANTED ME TO GIVE YOU A CHALLENGE, SO WHY ARE YOU HOOFICAPPING ME?”

“What I want . . . is victory . . . and I will achieve it by any means necessary! While your weak sentiments draws a line and insists to never cross it, I do whatever it takes to win. It's not just overwhelming power that can ensure one victory, but also intelligent tactics, and in the end . . . only the victor tells the story! The rest shall crumble into meaningless DUST!”

Starlight points a hoof at me, the black tornado, as she says, “YOU WERE THE ONE WHO SAID YOU WANTED TO TEST MY ABILITIES TO THE LIMITS, BUT IF YOU KEEP ON AIMING AT THE INNOCENT PONY CITIZENS WHILE KNOWING I'D RESCUE THEM, THEN YOU WON'T SEE MY FULL CAPABILITIES. YOU CAN ONLY DEFEAT ME ONCE, SOMBRA. I WON'T GIVE YOU ANOTHER CHANCE. SO . . . HOW DO YOU WISH TO DO IT? DO YOU WISH TO DEFEAT ME WHILE AT MY BEST, OR ARE YOU CONTENT TO EVER WONDER IF THE CHEAT TACTICS YOU USED IS THE ONLY REASON YOU WON?”

Sombra continues to assess her.

“WHAT'S WRONG, SOMBRA? ARE YOU SO AFRAID OF ONE LITTLE PONY THAT YOU FEEL YOU MUST RESORT TO ALL OF THIS JUST TO DEFEAT ME? HOW PATHETIC!”

I sense that King Sombra is aware that he's being baited, but it works anyway. As a pony of overwhelming pride and ego, he cannot let an insult like that go unchallenged. That is his weakness and he's aware of that, but he also feels that he's so powerful that his weakness ultimately doesn't matter in the long run.

Sombra turns back into pony form. In the process, the tornado and the storm cloud around me dissipates. Most of the crystals also drop to the ground.

“Very well, Starlight, you make a convincing argument,” Sombra concedes. “For that, I shall grant you one boon.” He spreads my forehooves apart. “Teleport me wherever you wish. We shall continue our mad dance there.”

“Gladly!” Starlight accepts then immediately flies at me. When her own forehooves touch me, a flash of teal light explodes all around me. The next thing I know, I'm flying high above some arctic wasteland. Many snowy mountain peaks are all around me.

Inwardly, I shiver at the cold, but Sombra appears to enjoy it. He even seems energized by it somehow.

I sense, from his thoughts, that he's even delighted at the new location because it delivers him much closer to a place called “The Crystal Empire,” whatever that is. For some reason, he has ambitious agendas for that place. I feel a primal and greedy sense of ownership over it.

“Why thank you, Starlight Glimmer! You have been most helpful to me!” Sombra expresses with delight.

“Don't thank me yet!” multiple Starlight clones above say simultaneously. “I got one more gift for you. Take THIS!”

	King Sombra makes me look up then widensmy eyes, startled, when he notices about eight Starlight's shoot a hornbeam diagonally towards me. The beams collide with each other and combine into one extremely huge beam. It's more like one giant column of light with streaming energy and magical spirals around it.

King Sombra barely has time to answer this new challenge. Even after blasting a hornbeam back, it still drives my body straight into the ground. He barely holds his position there with shaking hooves. During this time, I feel his inward disgust at my physical weaknesses compared to his own body. At the same time, I sense him extremely impressed with Starlight Glimmer's newest magical display.

“Most impressive!” he commends. “But you are only delaying the inevitable while simultaneously galloping right towards it. Thy end draws near!”

“Funny!” the Starlight clones said together, then one of them teleports right in front of me while Sombra is still busy struggling with the hornbeam of the other seven. The one in front of me says, “I was about to say something similar to you!”

Sombra widens my eyes at her as Starlight creates an extended beam from her horn except it hangs limp like a whip. She uses this to whip at my left hind leg then rips it forward in order to trip me.

And it works. By tripping me down onto my back, Starlight also disrupts his concentration against the huge hornbeam from above. Sombra's final desperate act to defend himself is forming a black crystal armor around my body just as the huge beam from above slams hard into my body. Blinding light fills my eyes as well as an unbelievable amount of pain and shock. The armor might have absorbed most of it, but what still got through spins my mind for a loop.

In fact, I think we did lose consciousness for a short while. Something sparks us back up. Maybe a contingency he set up earlier? Perhaps in another crystal?

As my eyes open again, I look up as Starlight stands directly over me, pressing both of her forehooves on each of my forelegs to pin them down into the white, icy snow. She also has a fixed beam aiming at my neck but does not extend any further. It kind of looks like a teal-colored lightsaber, except it extends from her horn. During this time, Starlight is panting very hard.

“Yield . . . Sombra! It's . . . over . . . now!” Starlight demands between her gasps of breath.

Sombra glares up at her, although I inwardly feel him exceedingly impressed with her. She managed to nail him a lot further than he suspected she would.

Then I sense a shift in his plans that startles me. Frankly, it creeps me out as well.

“Wha . . . where am I?” Sombra asks aloud using my voice alone, and he sounds innocent and confused as he says that. He widens my eyes at Starlight in startled recognition as he asks, “Starlight? Is that you?” He narrows my eyes at her. “What are you doing here? Or, more importantly, what am I doing here? Did you drag me back to Horse-Land?”

Damn! He even got that terminology right just to deceive her.

Don't fall for it, Starlight! That still isn't me!

Starlight looks taken aback as she asks, “What? Cozy? Is that really you?”

“Yes, of course it's me! Who else would it be?” Sombra barks up at her harshly. “Why have you dragged me back here? Are you planning to freeze me in stone too?!”

“No, Honey! No!” Starlight desperately reassures. “In fact, I had nothing to do with how you got here, although I might have inadvertently been responsible for freeing your consciousness from King Sombra.”

Sombra looks at Starlight in confusion as he asks, “Who?”

“Um . . .” Starlight trails off, then shakes her head. “Um, nevermind. We can deal with that later. Right now, I want to assure you that I won't do anything to harm you. I promise.”

“What good are your promises when I've been dragged back here against my will?!” Sombra spat harshly at Starlight.

She widens her eyes as she declares, “I already told you, I'm not responsible for dragging you back here! In fact, my plan is to return you to your mother post-haste, but only after exorcising an unwelcome entity within you.” Starlight groans as she looks to her side. “But, unfortunately, I don't know that spell. I may have to get Spike to send a letter to Star Swirl the Bearded for that one.”

“Starlight?” Sombra calls up to her, drawing her attention back to me. “About that entity you spoke of within me . . . she has a message for you.”

Starlight squints in confusion as she asks, “What? She?”

“Yeah,” Sombra confirms. “She says . . .” he narrows my eyes at her and grows a vicious smile while he says in his normal voice, “Checkmate, Starlight!”

That's how you put it when one achieves victory, right?

Sombra turns me into black smoke again and passes through Starlight. Since my body became incorporeal, she fell right through my previous position which momentarily puts her off balance.

On Sombra's way through Starlight, I felt him concentrate much of his energy directly into her horn. The result is black crystals growing within it.

Now behind her, Sombra morphs to invert his position so that he's facing towards her back rather than away from it. From there, he turns me back into solid form.

“No!” Starlight cries out in fear when she notices what he's done. “NO!”

In vain, she tries to activate a spell but it just sparks and fizzles at her horn.

Oh Starlight! I'm so sorry!

With a raise of my right hoof, black crystal grows from the ground all around her four hooves in order to lock her in place.

“My, my, that was fun,” Sombra commends as he trots my body around Starlight in order to face her from the front. “I haven't had that much of a struggle in many centuries. You are to be commended.”

Starlight momentarily struggles to pull her hooves from the crystal but her efforts are clearly in vain. Her look becomes very worried at that point, but also thoughtful. Even now, she's struggling to analyze her situation for any advantage she can think of. She does come up with one.

“Cozy Glow, I don't know if you can hear me. I pray to Celestia that you can hear me because this is very important! I need you to take back your body, Honey! Fight him!” Starlight urges me.

I wish I could but, right now, I'm more of a prisoner than Starlight is because I can't control my body at all. Even if I tried, I am very unlikely to succeed. We've both seen how powerful this guy is. Admittedly, he does have an unusual advantage because of those stolen crystals, but that is something I have to factor into my calculations of the situation.

It's hopeless! Simply hopeless!

“Wow! Even now you continue your struggle to defy me!” Sombra expresses in a very impressed tone. “Trapped as you are, even with your magic sealed, you don't give up, do you?”

“Cozy Glow, please listen to me! You've got to fight him!” Starlight urges desperately. “Please don't let him do this to me! To us! We deserve so much better. Together, we're stronger than he can ever be.”

Sombra's “horn” glows with magic. As a result, the same purple/black popping aura surrounds Starlight's throat then proceeds to choke her. She can't get another word out because of that, but she continues to look at me with pleading eyes full of tears. Eyes that beg me to rescue her.

“Defiant to the last, aren't you?” Sombra asks Starlight with almost sexual sounding pleasure from my voice. “Let's take care of that, shall we? I've delayed the acquisition of my prize long enough. For once, it feels well earned.”

For a very brief moment, my vision flashes green. After that, I see a pair of green clouds float over to her eyes. In continued defiance, she closes her eyes stubbornly. He concentrates and forces them open with his telekinesis, but shifting his focus like that also frees her throat.

“Cozy, don't let him win like this!” Starlight cries out desperately. “I'm sorry for what I tried to do to you earlier. Do you hear me? I'm sorryyyyyyyyyyyy . . . rryyyyyyyyy, . . . rryyyyyyyyyyy, . . . rryyyyyyyy,.”

Starlight's final words echo in my mind as I am also engulfed in blackness. For a moment, I thought I lost consciousness, too.

No, you're still very much awake and aware, Sombra explains. But I wanted to show you something.

I feel so disgusted and scared of him that I'm tempted to reject him, but curiosity overcomes me.

Show me what?

First of all, I want to express that some of your tactics to manipulate your minions are a bit clever. I'm especially fascinated how much you were able to accomplish without the use of magic, but as you are about to see . . . lacking magic is a very severe hooficap. After all, look how much your tactics have failed you.

	Your problem is the fact that your tactics attempt to convince others to do things your way, but since they still have their free will . . . they are eventually able to reject you. Your system was inherently flawed from the very beginning.

	I can't just blame your system itself. Some of it was your fault as well. You grew too attached to your subjects. Too sentimental. Such weaknesses should be stamped out without mercy the moment they crop up.

	Now, let me show you how I hoofle my subjects. What you need to understand is that, to truly enslave a potential subject, one must attack the source of their strength. With no foundation, their will crumbles. Without willpower, you squash the source of potential rebellion. All that's left is building materials for us to mold as we please!

	Just watch.

	A strong part of me does not want to. The part of me that's angry at him wants to defy anything he says. The part of me that's horrified recoils from what he says, but the part of me that sympathizes with Starlight . . . I can't help but be drawn to the answers about her fate.

The first thing I notice is the sound of a blizzard storm. After that, I start to see a vision of a dark field covered in black ice. Black snow whips back and forth about the area. At first we are viewing this scene from high above. Since the night sky is also black, it's very difficult to tell the ground apart from the sky.

But below I see a lone light purple mare trudging through this desolate field of black ice. I faintly hear her voice calling out into the winds, but I can't make it out until my perspective gets closer.

While I draw closer, I notice another unusual detail inwardly. I sense the chill of the night all around us, yet I'm unaffected by it for once. If anything, it seems to invigorate me.

I find that a very disturbing sign.

“HELLOOOOOOOO!” Starlight cries out desperately into the black, snowy wastes. “IS ANYPONY OUT THERE? ANY AT ALL? ANY CREATURE?”

My perspective continues to draw closer to her. Eventually I seem to float about nineteen feet in front of her. That's close enough to notice that black frost covers a vast majority of poor Starlight's body. She shivers as she suffers out here in the dark.

Alone.

“Please, anypony! Any creature!” Starlight calls out more lightly. I can see she's losing her strength rapidly. In addition, sorrow and despair is threatening to crush her will.

“P-p-p-p-please,” Starlight cries out as she shivers, “I d-d-don't w-w-want t-to b-be ah-ah-ah-alone!”

My sympathy for Starlight suddenly quadruples. However, in a strange way, I also find it a bit comforting to know that I'm not the only one who feels that way. I faced a dream much like this long ago. It was, and still is, my worst fear. I wasn't sure if anyone else felt that way too, but here she is. Now I have proof that validates my feelings.

Oh Starlight! I'm sorry too! I'm so sorry! I'm sorry that I'm a shitty person! I'm sorry that I made such mistakes. We might all not recover from them.

Damn it! If only you killed me, none of this would happen!

Chanting voices pick up in the screaming blizzard winds. Starlight's ears perk up, a brief sense of hope filling her for the last time in this vision. Hope that soon crumbles when she notices what they are saying.

“All hail King Sombra! All hail King Sombra! All hail King Sombra! All hail King Sombra!” many ponies chant over and over again as they crawl out of the black snow like zombies crawling out of their graves, and indeed, they look heavily emaciated with green glow that covers their eyes.

“Everypony, no! No, you have to snap out of it!” Starlight cries out desperately. She trudges over and shakes a pony that looks like a ponified version of Applebloom, albeit a pony zombie version of her with green glowing eyes.

A chilling screech fills the air which draws Starlight's attention upward. I look up too, then get confused by the sight of what looks like ghostly horses with wispy trails behind us. I think I spot three of them dancing and swirling up in the black night air.

“WINDIGO'S!” Starlight cries out in fear. “No! NO! This can't be happening! Not AGAIN!”

Now I draw closer to Starlight. As I do so, I hear the crunch of snow under my hooves as well as feel the chill of the ice penetrate my hooves, but again, it doesn't hurt.

Starlight looks over to me. When she does, her already tiny eyes shrink impossibly further with horror.

“No! NO! It can't be you! I've grown beyond you! I've changed!” Starlight insists, oddly seeming to have forgotten about the chill of the night since she's no longer stuttering.

“Oh Starlight,” I tell her. Strangely, my voice sounds exactly like hers, although maybe a little younger sounding. “You should know better. You're a smart mare. Deep down, you know you're always the same. You can never change. Not at your core where it's really important.”

“NO, NO!” Starlight rejects as she shakes her head then buries her face in the black snow while covering her ears with her forward legs. “I have friends now, and they love me!”

“You mean these friends?” I ask as I gesture to all the other ponies in the vicinity.

After I do so, their chant changes to, “You failed us, Starlight! You failed us, Starlight! You failed us, Starlight!”

“Everypony . . . I'm sorry!” Starlight whimpers in despair. “I tried to defend you! I tried so hard, but I wasn't strong enough! I wasn't fast enough! I wasn't brave enough!”

“You failed us, Starlight! You failed us, Starlight! You failed us, Starlight! You failed us, Starlight!”

“No, you weren't all those things,” I say in a soothing voice while eerily sounding just like her.

I gently lift up her face with a hoof to steer her gaze towards me. Once I do, I see through the reflection of her eyes that I do indeed look like a younger version of her, although my mane is cut a bit differently than her. It seems much more formal.

“But I have good news for you,” I offer in a soothing tone. “You can join your friends again.”

“Join us, Starlight! Join us, Starlight! Join us, Starlight! Join us, Starlight!”

“You can be with your friends!” I tell her cheerfully, “for all are equal under the rule of King Sombra!”

“All hail King Sombra! All hail King Sombra! All hail King Sombra! All hail King Sombra!”

“No!” Starlight closes her eyes, cries in misery, and defeated despair. “This can't be happening! This is a nightmare!”

“Give up, Starlight!” I urge her. “You've fought your true fate long enough. It's time you finally come home!”

Starlight cracks her eyes open at me. I see a tiny glimmer of hope in her eyes but it's mostly wrapped in sadness.

“No more tears,” I tell her compassionately. “No more fears. No more nightmares . . . for there will be no more dreams, either. No will . . . just complete surrender.”

Sniffing, Starlight cracks in a tiny voice, “Yes.”

“That's it, Starlight!” I coax in a soothing voice. “Now tell me . . . whom do you serve?”

“Sombra,” Starlight answers in a slightly higher voice.

I shake my head as I say, “There is no room under his rule for half-truths and half-convictions. Say it strongly and mean it. I ask again . . . whom do you serve?”

Starlight stands up straight and emotion seems to drain from her voice. She answers somewhat robotically, “Sombra.”

“That's it, Starlight!” I cheer as my vision flashes green. A green cloud floats over and engulfs her eyes, just like the others. “Welcome to the family, Starlight!” I bid.

“All hail King Sombra!” Starlight cries out in an empty and listless voice. The next time she repeats it, she joins the chant of the others.




* * *




My vision comes back into focus. When it does so, I notice that I am standing behind Starlight Glimmer again, but not for long. Regardless of my will, I find myself trotting forward in order to view Starlight from the front. When I do so, I notice her eyes engulfed with sickly, greenish energy.

And that, my dear, is how it's done, Sombra inwardly brags proudly. When you attack them from within and crush their will, there is nothing left to oppose me, and there never will be.

	Starlight Glimmer is mine now. I own her. She is my slave, and that is how she'll forever remain.

	Normally I'd argue against forming an attachment to others, but this prize is well earned . . . and a great deal of power is gained accordingly. The important thing to remember, however, is that my acquisitions are just tools. Use them only for as long as they are useful, then discard them.

	Isn't that right, my dear?

At first I thought he was talking to me until Starlight Glimmer responds by saying with an empty, listless tone, “I am an object.”

Seeing her blank expression and hearing her voice so drained of all emotion and passion, my heart shrivels in pain and sympathy. This is not the Starlight Glimmer I've come to know and respect. This . . . thing . . . is something else. Something of his creation. I feel horrified to behold this.

Then something else startling occurs to me. Did he do the same thing to me? Is that why I've been getting dumber over these past few months? Is this why I had trouble concentrating? Was Sombra setting me up for failure months ago just so that he could convince me to give up my body in a moment of despair?

I can't be sure, but it makes too much sense.

Of course, he did not wear me down the same way he did to Starlight because he had no access to magic back then. Instead, he had to convince me to give up my body. Something tells me that the majority of his focus was targeting my subconscious mind. My personality did somewhat alter these past few months, and I even recall being confused by it.

King Sombra makes me lean forward and take a deep whiff of Starlight Glimmer's mane, which makes me feel a little revolted at the action. As a result of it, though, I smell mostly lilac scented flowers with just a hint of sweat. The sweat mostly serves to enhance the other scent due to the moisture.

“Lovely,” Sombra makes me purr with sexual sounding pleasure. “She's mine! All mine!”

	Sombra makes me eye her livid face for a moment while I feel my mouth open as if drooling in pleasure, then he makes me say, “Open your mouth.”

Whoa! That sounds hauntingly familiar.

Starlight Glimmer immediately obeys. Seconds after she does, I am forced to seize her lips with my own. He makes me do a deep throat kiss to her for the very first time in my life. I didn't even know how to do it before.

In my mouth, I can feel Starlight licking me back. Our tongues seem to wrestle in my mouth, yet I still sense no passion from her. It is as if she's just barely awake, or she is asleep and doing this in her sleep.

When Sombra is done playing with her, he backs my head away from her and concentrates a bit.

“Starlight Glimmer is my property now,” Starlight herself says. “Since she no longer has any will, nor will she ever gain it again, then only my will can govern her actions.”

I feel both horrified and fascinated to witness Sombra talking to me through her! This confirms for sure that he has telepathic control over her.

“Starlight will never feel anything again,” she goes on to say, “which includes any will to disobey.

“You see, Cozy, once I get her pesky will out of the way, I am free to forever claim the remains . . . her body and her power.”

I feel like crying. So much sympathy and guilt crushes me because of what happened to her.

This is my fault! My fault! I shouldn't even be allowed to live!

“And now that we got that established,” Starlight is forced to say in a still empty tone, “it's time to put my new possession to work.

“Starlight, go roundup ten new slaves and bring them back here. Once you do, I'll give them a little bit of re-education,” Starlight is forced to say to herself. After that, she vanishes in a popping, teal explosion that lingers tiny magical sparkles for a few seconds.

Which leaves me sort of alone with Sombra again.

I feel a bit taken aback by his sudden shift in attitude once we are alone. He forces me to look outward into the vast, snowy mountain top landscape with a contemplative look.

“My old lair is not too far from here,” Sombra recalls aloud. He seems to mostly be speaking to himself. “I'll need to regather some of my old power there to prepare myself for the next threat.”

Threat?! I ask questioningly and a little hopefully.

Oh, that's right. You don't know. Allow me to explain.

	To the best of my knowledge, there are only three things in Equestria that can possibly threaten me.

	One of them is Twilight Sparkle and her friends, but the thing about their power is it requires all of them to be together to use it. Apparently they have a connection to the Elements of Harmony, one of the former most powerful forces of our land. It's weakness, however, is the fact that it requires all of them together to pull it off, and Twilight is trapped in your world.

	The second threat is Discord.

Discord is a powerful magical entity native to another dimension. He can rip the fabric of reality and change it to his whim with a mere snap of his fingers. When he does, he can change anything, literally anything, even history. When he does make a change, he usually is wacky about it. I'll need to gather something back at my former lair to help me prepare for him.

	Huh. That sounds an awful lot like another famous and favorite character of mine from another sci-fi show I used to watch.

	Really? Sombra asks me, intrigued. After asking, I can feel him consult my memories for context of what I am talking about. Once he finds it and reviews it, he says, Huh. Well, I guess they are pretty similar. Eerily, they have the same voice as well.

	However, unlike the fictional character you are thinking about, Discord is very much real, so he's very much a threat to me until I prepare for him.

	As for the third threat, he makes me gaze south-east, that dwells within the Crystal Empire.

	Despite how much of a threat it is to me, I cannot destroy it. If I do, my precious Empire would be buried under ice and snow. That wouldn't threaten me directly, but it would kill my subjects, and that is too wasteful.

	However, by itself, the Crystal Heart is no threat to me unless all of the Empire's citizens charge it and use it against me, but there are two ways to safeguard myself from it.

	Number one; I can hide it. I can also set up booby-traps to further safeguard it.

	Number two; I can also crush the will of the pony citizens. When I break them, they'll be unable to charge their will into the Crystal, so it's no threat to me even if they do find it.

I barely have the will to care, but I ask, How far is your lair?

Not far, Sombra answers as he makes me look southward. I can easily get there before the end of the night.

A startling epiphany occurs to him as he looks south-west.

“Night!” he makes me exclaim aloud. “Oh, that's right! I'll also need to make a pit stop in Canterlot to pick up a very important artifact there.”

Why is it so important?

He narrows my eyes as he says, “It is important because it controls the flow of the day and night cycle in this world.”

O . . . . kaaaaaaaay! Yeah, I just heard that.

This is just another reminder to me that logic and this world do not get along.

A teleporting sound pops in from behind me. Sombra turns my head about to look back at a new group of ten ponies wrapped with a teal-colored laser cord extending from Starlight's horn.

My heart sinks. Part of me hoped beyond hope that Starlight would reclaim her will somehow while she was gone, but apparently she rounded up ten of her former village mates without any hesitation or remorse . . . or any emotion, for that matter.

“Gooooooooood!” Sombra makes me express with a sinful purr. He turns me about and advances upon the terrified citizens while slowly spreading my wings in a fan-out fashion. When he stands in front of them, he says, “What delicious-looking new sssssssssslaves you are! Behold my might and despair! Your freedom is hereby terminated, for your truemaster has come at last!”

My eyes flash with sickly, greenish light at them.

I shrivel further inside, for it has become clear to me that my story is about the victory of the bad guys.
> Chapter Forty Three: Mindscape
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

As soon as my pony body is forced back into corporeal form, the inner chill I felt in my soul became an external chill due to the blizzard storm all around me.

In front of me, we land at the base of an apparently dead volcano. Near the base is a cave that apparently leads into a black oblivion. Beyond the entrance, I can see absolutely nothing but total blackness.

“How nostalgic,” Sombra forces me to say as he purrs in sinister pleasure. “Welcome to my old lair, young one. Here is where I spent the vast majority of this past millennium.”

He lowers my head then sharply lifts it, arching back my neck to do so, almost to a painful degree. In the process, he summons a spell that apparently causes a sickly-looking greenish flame to ignite within the cave, but they fail to illuminate anything beyond them. The flames themselves seem to float in a black, empty void.

Sombra makes me chuckle darkly, then says, “You are lucky that I am here to guide and protect you, my little poppet. If you weren't, the black crystals within this cave would sap your life energy in a hurry.”

Lucky me, I think to him sarcastically.

“Indeed,” he accepts seriously then ventures into the cave.

What's so special about this cave anyway? I can't imagine spending one-thousand years in any single place.

	“Biding my time and gathering my power, mostly,” Sombra makes me answer. “Here is where I gathered a special dark crystal. Within it, I had gathered a great deal of negative energy with the intention to use it not only to bring back the Crystal Empire, but to help me conquer it as well.

“But, unfortunately, an infuriating group of defiant adventurers burst into my cave and destroyed that crystal. Among them was Princess Celestia herself as well as a certain descendant of mine who was famed, at the time, to be the first flying unicorn.” Sombra scoffs. “History often forgets it's noble heritage if there aren't ponies like me around to remind them what is important.”

So Celestia herself, as well as a group of others, came here and busted your crystal?

“Actually, not exactly,” Sombra admitted as he made me continue to trot down an utterly dark cave. Passing each sickly purple and green flames are my only clue of progress through the cave. That, and the clomp sound of hooves meeting a crystal ground. “While I will admit that they were formidable and unusually resourceful, I had them on the ropes. I would have had them, too, if it weren't for my counterpart!” he spat in bitter anger.

Huh? You mean your human counterpart crossed over into Horse-Land and stopped you?

Sombra sounds like he calms down somewhat as he explains, “No. That's not it at all. I have no idea who my human counterpart is, but I've a hunch he died on your world a long time ago.

“No. The one I speak of is a pony, too. In fact, you could claim he was my true original self, but I ascended beyond him by embracing dark magic. We fought each other long ago. When I won, I claimed his body for myself. So, as you can see, this isn't the first time I've taken over another.

“But, apparently, part of his consciousness lingered in something they called, 'The Red Crystal'. Within it houses the last of his essence. Not only did that crystal house the last of his power, but also his spirit and knowledge, and this is why they were unusually prepared to face me. Apparently he even taught my descendant crystal science despite his affinity for the sky. Go figure.

	“Anyway, in the end, my counterpart played some awful noise from 'The Red Crystal' that not only paralyzed me, but shattered my great Dark Crystal as well which had centuries of gathered negative energy.

	“Enraged, I chased after them and almost destroyed them for their insolence, but I was halted by an illusion from my counterpart which was projected by the magic of my descendant. When I stared into my counterpart's eyes, I quickly understood that, although he and I have different goals and methods, we did have one important thing in common . . . for you see, he, too, wanted the return of the Crystal Empire. With my great obelisk destroyed, he was suddenly closer to his goal than I was, so I backed off and allowed him to finish his plan.

	“For almost a century, I lingered here . . . brooding. Scheming. Hating! Craving the conquest of my homeland and the utter destruction of all of my enemies, but I had to bide my time. For his plan to work, the energy of harmony had to spread across the land first. Since I can't contribute to that directly, I figured the least I could do was stay out of the way.

“And, ultimately, his plan worked. The moment I sensed the return of the Crystal Empire, I finally stormed out of this cave in order to claim what is rightfully mine!”

I spend a moment to mull over what he said to me until I sense that I'm slowing down in my trot. That probably means we are nearing his destination.

“And we're here,” Sombra declares as we stopped.

I figured that.

“Behold, little poppet.” Using his horn, he levitates a black crystal that is about one foot tall and three inches thick. The fattest part of the crystal is in the middle. It almost has a rough teardrop shape, except it's pointy at both ends of the crystal.

What's this?

“These are the last shards of the Black Obelisk that I have formed. When it was shattered, I scraped together what tiny shards I could find and fused them into this one crystal.”

Why did you do that, and why not use it to renew your original plan?

“I reforged this crystal in order to once again accumulate power within it, but its ultimate purpose has changed. Because it is much smaller than what I started with, I knew it wouldn't be large enough to store all the energy I'd need to rip the Crystal Empire back into the material plane. So, instead of that, I stored within it a different kind of energy. More specifically, chaos energy.” Since he felt my confusion, he decided to add, “I don't need to go into details with a little runt like you. Suffice to say that I can use this to prepare for an enemy that has the ability to rip apart the fabric of reality.”

“It's too bad for you that you won't get a chance to use it,” a familiar woman's voice declares behind us.

“WHAT?!” Sombra turns me about on a dime to face the unexpected sight of Sunset Shimmer approaching us. She, herself, stood out against the darkness by having glowing wings and horn extending from her. The most confusing part of seeing her, however, is the fact she's still in human form.

“IMPOSSIBLE!” Sombra makes me roar. “How can you possibly cross the dimensional threshold? I destroyed it! Besides, even if you did find an alternate path, you should be transformed into pony form.”

Sunset lifts a red gloved hand and points her pointing finger up as she says, “First of all, there are alternate portals into Equestria. I found some of them myself, but most of them got closed by the efforts of Princess Twilight and Cozy's mother.

“Secondly, I'm not in Equestria right now, and neither are the two of you.”

Sombra makes me crouch down as if getting ready to charge at Sunset. He grits my teeth as he declares, “You lie! Clearly we are standing in Equestria right now!” He shifts my gritting teeth into an evil smirk. “More to the point, you have joined me in my former lair! Here, you will find that I have quite the tactical advantage over potential would-be intruders such as yourself.”

“Oh?” Sunset tilts her head, looking at me in a cocky way. “You mean that crystal back there?”

With a wave of her hand, that crystal suddenly shatters then disintegrates.

Sombra gasps so much at that sight that he's utterly speechless.

“As I said, we're not standing in Equestria,” Sunset reminds us, “and this isn't your real lair. Moreover, you are not even the real Sombra to begin with.”

“What are you babbling about now?” Sombra challenges her.

Sunset sighs, then says, “Before I start digging into that explanation, let’s get all of the players to the table.”

Sunset folds both of her hands on her chest. She floats off the ground that I still can't see (or at least she appears to elevate a bit) while her wings and horn, which is literally made of light, grow brighter.

“What are you doing?!” Sombra demands to know.

Next thing we know, light explodes away from Sunset. It momentarily blinds us.

When my vision clears, I notice that I can control my body again! Moreover, it has been restored to my natural human form.

Looking about, I notice I have two other companions joining me in an apparently empty void, except the local area around me has a sort of “ground” that glows gray a bit. Within this disk of gray is Sunset Shimmer and King Sombra in his black smoke form.

“What have you DONE?!” Sombra demands to know.

“I've entered us into a mutual mindscape,” Sunset answers as she floats back to the gray ground.

“So you have entered into our minds?” Sombra figures as he narrows one glowing eye at Sunset.

“Actually, I just changed the scenery a bit and pulled all the players involved in this scenario here,” Sunset answers. “But, in truth, we were already in a mindscape even before I delivered us here.” She looks squarely at me as she tells me, “Cozy, your real body is lying unconscious in the hospital. You've been that way ever since you 'seemingly' gave your body to him.”

“What?!” Sombra asks in confusion and objection.

“You should sense it too, Sombra,” Sunset told him. “At least subconsciously, part of you knows that something about this world isn't right.”

Sombra narrows both of his eyes at Sunset, but he holds his silence since he's unwilling to admit that she's right.

Sunset looks back at me as she explains, “Ever since you gave your 'body' to him, nothing either of you have seen, heard, or done has been real. It's all been an elaborate dream. The truth is, you two are in a coma.”

“Really?” I ask with rising hope. As soon as I ask that, I touch my throat. I feel delighted to finally have a voice again. Recovering from my elation two seconds later, I go on to ask, “So . . . nothing he has done through me has been real? My mother isn't hurt? Rainbow Dash wasn't stabbed in the shoulder? Starlight Glimmer isn't enslaved?”

While I am asking questions, Sunset continuously shook her head no. When I finish, she says, “Indeed. None of that was real. You never left your world, except mentally, and you are not in Equestria right now.”

“What do you mean I'm not the real Sombra?” Sombra asks suspiciously but also cautiously curious.

“Just what I said,” Sunset answers as she looks back at him. “You are not the real King Sombra.”

“Are you referring to my original self?” he asks. “Because I discarded that trash long ago. I am better than my original self! I am superior!”

Sunset shrugs as she says, “I'm sure the real King Sombra would be telling himself this all the time, but no . . . you're not that. You're a cast-off of a cast-off. The remains of a remains. You're just the shadow of King Sombra.”

“What do you mean?” I ask curiously.

Sunset covers her face for a moment as she takes a deep breath. When she releases it, she reveals her face once again.

“This is a little hard to explain, but what I think is going on here is a twisted form of Equestrian magic.”

Sunset looks at me as she explains, “I've studied Equestrian magic for many years. Because of it, I think I know more about it than most of my own people back in my native land. After all, they don't have easy access to the equipment and technology of your world. As such, I've been able to get some readings on Equestrian magic and how it affects anyone it gets in contact with. My research seems to indicate that the results is unique to every individual. How it affects you depends on who you are as a person.” She looks at Sombra as she says, “It's much the same as our cutie marks. That, too, is a form of magic that is distinctive to each individual pony.” She looks back at me. “Similarly, when Equestrian magic leaks through from my world and into your world, how it affects each individual depends on the kind of person they are.

“In your case, Cozy Glow, I think your magic became a similar form as it is with me. Specifically, you have a penchant for mind magic as well.”

“Really?!” I ask, feeling fascinated.

Sunset nods, then seemingly has her magic crystal shard suddenly materialize out of thin air. As it falls, she snatches it with her right hand. Once she has it, she opens her hand and reveals the red crystal shard to me on her right palm.

“Do you want to know where my crystal was this whole time?” Sunset asks me. In response, I merely nod, then she says, “For the longest time, I wondered that too.” I pass her a queer look, so she goes on to say, “It's true. For many months, it was missing.”

“Ah . . . wait!” I spread my hands apart to indicate this whole environment around us. “So . . . if what you are telling us is true . . . then everything around us isn't real.” I point at her crystal. “Including that, so you still don't know where it is, do you?”

“Oh, I know where it is, now,” Sunset assures as she clenches her fist around her crystal again and draws it close to her chest. “For a while, you had it.” She opens her hand again, this time revealing the black flash drive I used to hack into her laptop computer.

I widen my eyes in astonishment, and she nods at me.

“That's right. Ghost stole my magic shard and hid it within the flash drive he gave you. I don't know how he knew this, but it turns out he used the correct method to access my computer. Your mother and I designed that computer so that its magic, and the entire computer itself, could not be accessed unless this crystal shard is nearby it. It acts sort of as a key, as it were.”

Sunset crosses her arms across her chest and looks to her left side at nothing.

“I really don't know how he knew that, but I've a distinct impression that Ghost is not native to your world, either.” Sunset looks back at me. “He has no history in your world after all, and I think that's why.” Sunset rubs the back of her neck with her left hand as she continues to look at me. “It's just a hunch, but I have the distinct impression that, in my world, Ghost is a changeling.” She crosses her arms across her chest again. “During Queen Chrysalis’ reign, the changelings were very good spies. Of the thin amount of information I have on this guy, he seems to have the ability to blend in anywhere, and he has access to skills far above his age range. It's as if he's been doing it for decades.”

“But . . . how would he know that only your crystal could access your computer?” I ask Sunny.

In response, she shrugs as she says, “I really have no idea, but he did use the correct method. Maybe he eavesdropped on one of my conversations with your mother or maybe he was a changeling disguised as a pony in the background while I spoke with Princess Twilight about this.” Sunset sighs. “I have to say that, as formidable and experienced as Princess Twilight is, she is much too trusting when it comes to her personal security system. She's too accustomed to giving others the benefit of the doubt to take the precautions necessary to prevent secrets like this from leaking out. I'm sure she does take some precautions, but Ghost got around it anyway.”

“And now Rarity has it,” I recall. “Your crystal, I mean. I threw it into the trash. That is where she recovered it.”

“If you think I am not the real King Sombra, then what do you think I am instead?” Sombra asks Sunset.

From what I can tell, he did not ask that question belligerently. Instead, he is really asking because he wants to know her answer, which means part of him might suspect that Sunset is telling the truth.

“I was getting to that,” Sunset replies to him. When she goes on, she looks back and forth between us. “As I said, Equestrian magic appears to affect everyone differently, and you,” she points at me, “came into contact with it when you used the flash drive Ghost gave you. Not only did you contact the magic that is within the computer, but you unwittingly contacted the magic that was within the flash drive itself, for it had the true keys to unlock that machine. When that happened, you became enchanted by Equestrian magic . . . twice! Once during your first attempt to access my machine, and the second time when you used the flash drive to upload the information you stole from my machine.”

“The static shock!” I recall. “I was zapped twice by that flash drive.”

Sunset nods in confirmation. “That is when you got enchanted by Equestrian magic.

“In your case, the form that magic took is much akin to mine. It is mind magic, except it took a bit of a different form.” She glances at Sombra then back to me. “From what I can tell, the magic allowed you to contact the collective minds and spirit of all of Equestria. From that collective unconsciousness, you unwittingly drew upon a mind that was similar to your own mindset at the time, especially your subconscious mind.”

Sunset looks at Sombra as she says to him, “From your perspective, that's when your existence started, but you were 'programmed' with some of the memories of King Sombra, so naturally you just assumed you were the same entity, but the real King Sombra got obliterated many years ago.

“Admit it. Something about you felt off ever since you came to this world,” Sunset presses Sombra. “For instance, the real King Sombra would have no sexual interest in humans at all. I'm not even sure if he looked at ponies that way either. He always seemed interested to use his slaves as mere tools, but his attachment truly stops there. You might be able to tell me better than I can on that account. Still, didn't you find it strange how Cozy's body secretly and sexually aroused you?”

Sombra just looks at me but says nothing.

“You weren't like that before, were you?” Sunset challenges.

Again, he says nothing, most likely because he felt admitting the would be a form of defeat, and the Sombra I know would vehemently hide any form of weaknesses with a desperate passion.

“Wait a second! Time out.” I cross my hands in front of me into a T shape. “In this mental world, Sombra once contacted the mind of Starlight Glimmer through something he calls, 'The Fear Curse'. While he used it, he showed me a glimpse into Starlight's mind, particularly her fears and nightmare. Are you telling me that we just dreamed all that up? If that wasn't the real Starlight, then does that mean we still don't know what she truly fears?”

“I know it's confusing for you, but that is because you are still accessing the collective unconscious minds of all of Equestria. During that moment, all of that power was channeled to one particular individual. Starlight, in this case. I assure you that the real Starlight Glimmer is unharmed, but you very likely did see what she truly fears. During that moment, both of you contacted her unconscious mind, most likely without her knowledge or consent.

“Because of that mental contact, Starlight behaved in a way that's utterly real in this dreamscape. You never met her for real, I assure you, except for that one time you visited Equestria several moons ago. However, because of your mental link, the dream version of her you met behaved like the real Starlight Glimmer would act perfectly. At most, there might have been a little bit of taint in her behavior but, if so, even I can't tell the difference.

“So, even though you didn't contact the real Starlight, or anyone else, for that matter, the simulation you got in here is as real as a dream can get, largely because of your magical connection to my world and partially also because of your own knowledge.”

“I did sense you were really empty,” I admit as I look over at Sombra. “You seem to be simulating emotions, but inwardly I sensed nothing from you.”

“There is a two-layer explanation for that one,” Sunset brought up. “For one thing, this version of Sombra is actually a schism from your own subconscious mind but, in addition to that, you partially drew upon memories from the mind of the real King Sombra, and he was fake, too.” She focuses on Sombra as she says to him, “By your own admission, your true self died many centuries ago, and by your own hoof, no less.”

Sombra looks at Sunset thoughtfully.

“If anyone had an internal connection to you while you were still a black smoke ghost in Equestria, I think they would have found a similar emptiness within your soul, or rather his soul. He was just a shadow of his true, original self. As for you . . . you are a copy of a copy. A shadow of a shadow.”

“So,” he looks down, “that explains why I can remember her parent's name better than my own. I used to think part of my mind got lost during the transfer into her world.”

“In a way, that's true,” Sunset agrees, “but there is a bit more to it than that.

“Tell me, 'Sombra', why is Cozy Glow afraid of heights?”

“Because her father used to punish her by trapping her on top of their refrigerator,” Sombra answers immediately. “Given her height at the time, it seemed a massive drop to her which her fears only magnified.”

“What?!” I ask in bewilderment. “I don't remember that!”

Sombra looks back at me with wide eyes as if he just had an epiphany.

“Yes,” Sunset agrees as she puts her hands on her hips while still regarding Sombra. “Now you understand.”

“Understand what?” I ask. “Will someone please clue me in?”

Sunset answers as she looks back at me, “Sombra has all the memories you suppressed from yourself. He has all of your fears and unpleasant memories of your birth parents. Because of that, all you have left are your good memories of your parents, making them seem perfect accordingly.”

Realization dawns on me, then something else as well. “But . . . my full memories of my birth parents started to trickle into me lately. Why now and not before?”

“Because I was dwelling on them,” Sombra answers, then shifts his form. The black smoke gathers together while he condenses his form into something more solid.

However, when the shift is complete, I am taken aback to see another copy of me standing across from me, except Sombra has shifted to a younger form of me. By the looks of her, I'd guess that she's ten'ish.

“When I sifted through your memories, including the bad ones about your parents,” Sombra in my younger form says to me in my younger voice, “I didn't realize I was sifting through memories that you didn't have yourself. Instead, the memories I had were mine alone . . . until I sort of 'awakened' within you as a result of your touch with Equestrian magic. Ever since then, your suppressed memories took the form of Sombra because he best represented a voice for your internal fears, anguish, rage, and ambitious plans.”

The other younger Cozy tilts her head to me as she asks, “Do you remember what you said to the other students at Canterlot during the school assembly that you helped to organize?

“Here. Let me remind you!”

The scene around me shifts. This time I see myself standing up on a stage behind a podium as I give my speech to the other members of Canterlot High.

It is weird to see myself from the outside perspective, but I quickly brush it aside as I listen to the echo of my own past speech.

“But ask yourself this with all honesty. Have you . . . even once . . . considered using that kind of power if you ever had it? Was there even one brief moment during your childhood when you wished you could control the world or anyone else?

“I certainly have.” I see my past self gesture to herself. “I think about it all the time. Why do you think I ran for Student Council President? I do enjoy having enough authority to help people, and I do care for my fellow students. Those who have seen me in my office, or anywhere else for that matter, can attest to this.”

“You had a little King Sombra in you all along,” Sombra in my younger form tells me. It almost sounds like a taunt to me, but it's clear she didn't intend it to be. Just a statement of fact. “I am simply the cognitive manifestation of that unconscious desire.”

“Which is how Equestrian magic unfolded in this particular case,” Sunset elaborates. “Don't you see, Cozy? This isn't King Sombra and he never was. He . . . or rather I should say she . . . is you.”

I look over to my apparent 'other' self. For the first time, I am starting to sense a glimmer of emotion within her. The kind of emotion I have deep within myself.

The part of me I want to suppress and not remember.

I look back at Sunny as I ask her, “If all you say is true, then . . . what should I do?”

Sunset lifts up her hands to make finger quotes as she says, “'Sombra', in a way, had one piece of good advice for you. For you to make yourself whole and escape this nightmare, you really do have to face your fears. If you embrace them, you become them. More importantly, they become you again.” Sunset gestures to my other self as she says, “After that, King Sombra will be gone. He'll no longer hound or hurt you anymore. Instead, it will be just you in here.”

I wince in disgust and fear as I ask her, “Why would I want to merge with her?”

“Because you are incomplete without her,” Sunset answers immediately. “You need her strengths to answer life's challenges. In exchange, she needs you to temper her anger, fears, and ambitions. Without that moderation,” she thumbs behind her, “well, you saw what happened to the dream version of Ponyville. To prevent something like that from happening for real, you must be whole again.”

I look down as I sigh, then look back at Sunny as I ask her, “What must I do?”

Sunset lifts up a finger in caution as she asks, “Firstly, I must ask you . . . are you ready to leave this place? Are you ready to face your fears so that you may return to the real world?”

I shake my head as I answer, “I don't think I'll ever be ready for that, but I won't accomplish much else just standing around here, and I wish to have inner peace within myself rather than being at war with myself all the time,” I say as I look at my other self. “Fighting one's self . . .” I begin.

“. . . is the surest way to lose a battle,” my other self finishes.

Sunset vanishes and instantly appears next to me. She grips my shoulder as she says, “I'm not going to lie to you. What you will see won't be easy to face, but it's the truth. I'll help you through this as best I can, but this is something you have to face.”

I sigh as I look nervously at my other self, then nod as I say, “I'm ready.”

Sunset looks at my other self and nods to her while saying, “Do it.”

Staring into the eyes of my other self, I see her eyes flash green for a moment. After that, a green cloud envelops my vision.

The next thing I know, I'm somewhere else.




* * *




It would be pretty fair to say that my life flashes before my eyes, at least what has transpired so far.

In it, I receive a rapid jumble of thoughts, images, feelings, sensations. Not all of them are bad, but some of them get really dark.

For instance, some of it is of my father raping me. He has me bent over the bed as he pumps into me. While that happens, my innocent young mind desperately tries to think of something else. I try to be somewhere else in my mind. I struggled hard to avoid thinking about what was happening to me back then. All I knew was it hurt me and confused me.

During those times, I think I often smell alcohol in the air. Whenever that happens, it was easy to imagine that this wasn't my true father but, rather, some monster that took his form and the only way to tell him apart was the fact that the monster often had the smell of alcohol on it.

But I knew my father. My “real” father. He was the one who loved me and supported me and protected me. He was everything that this monster was not, so that was another way to tell them apart.

“That's right,” I hear Sunset's voice echo around me. “That's what a father should do. He should have loved you, protected you, and provided for you. A father should be picking up his daughter and twirling her in the air as she playfully giggles.

	“It's also important to remember that, sometimes, he did precisely that.

“If you ever become a mother someday, Cozy, remember this lesson. Remember what worked . . . and what didn't work. By remembering when you were the victim, you'll have the motive and strength to prevent it from happening to anyone else.”

More visions flash before my eyes. Most of it is my parents arguing with each other, but sometimes those arguments escalate into physical violence. My father is not always the instigator of those physical fights, either. Sometimes my mother was the antagonist.

But, in general, my mother simply broods when she's in a bad mood. Instead of exploding her anger outwardly, she tended to bottle it in. More often than not, her anger came out as passive-aggressive. That often triggered my father. He was the true dynamite between them. He may have had the short fuse, but it did not mean he always started the fight.

Good memories are tucked in there too. Our hide-and-seek games around the house, especially with my mother since she was there more often. A true, honest to God housewife. We don't see too many of those anymore. Probably not enough.

There are other memories like that too. Us playing in the fields or doing the same with the ocean waves.

Overall, most of my memories of them range from neutral to good, but the exceptions can get extremely bad.

Like the time my father stranded me on top of the refrigerator when he was upset at me. He seemed to act like it was no big deal, but my mind was heavily scarred, likely far more than he realized.

But, in my last vision, while stranded on top of the refrigerator as my six-year-old self, a break in continuity occurs. The adult version of Sunset Shimmer enters into the kitchen and reaches up to me. She asks me, “Are you ready to come down and wake up from this nightmare now?” she asks me warmly and compassionately.

Since my mind is still under the lens of my six-year-old self, I eagerly reach down to embrace her arms. She pulls me down from off the top of the refrigerator and hugs me close to her chest from the side. She has one arm tucked beneath my bent legs and the other arm around the back of my shoulders.

She hugs me tightly to her warm chest. I feel my fears and pain begin to evaporate.

“Come on, Cozy,” Sunset says to me softly, “Let's get you back home to your real family.”

Light surrounds me from all around until I can see nothing else.
> Chapter Forty Four: Hospital Visit Part 1, Sunset Shimmer
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

I wake up to the sound of a regular, intermittent beeping sound. After that, my vision gradually comes into focus. I soak in my new surroundings. I soon realize that I am in a hospital bed.

As my new reality gradually comes into focus, my previous one is still fresh in my mind. The mental projected image of Sunset Shimmer told me that I am in a hospital in real life. Because of that warning, I am not taken completely by surprise. This is more like confirmation.

I find that relieving, actually, because it means my previous reality was indeed fake. Sombra did not take over my body and . . .

Except, oddly, I remember him doing it. I don't just remember being the witness to this event, I remember being in the driver's seat during that moment.

I am recalling Sombra's memories!

Not just then, either. I recall his memories before we even met, and those memories far outnumber the time I spent with him as Cozy Glow.

In fact, as I review those memories, it quickly dawns on me just how ancient this guy really was. It isn't all clear. Quite a number of chunks of his life seem fuzzy to me, but there is far too much new information in my head to excuse it all as a mere dream.

Despite this, I don't feel his presence at all. Instead, I feel as if I am him, and yet his personality is doing nothing to override my own. It almost feels like I am realizing, for the first time, how empty he was throughout most of his existence. He laughed maniacally, he moved, he schemed, he did almost everything that someone who exists would do, but there was no true drive within him and he never realized that . . . until now.

One does not know how empty their cup is until it is filled.

A feeling of déjà vu overcomes me as I review some of his memories. Most of it was spent in some dark crystal cave, brooding and scheming the conquest of the rest of Equestria.

Equestria . . . yeah. That's what he called it . . . and it finally feels natural to think that way, too.

I grin as I realize that, in one way, he did win. He finally persuaded me to think of those lands as Equestria. After all, he's been doing that far, far longer than I ever called it Horse-Land.

Besides, he's right. Now I actually recall the fact that there are more than just ponies in Equestria. I now recall meeting some of them as him. I recall what I did to terrorize and manipulate them, sometimes from the shadows.

Yet, when I look upon those memories, they feel as empty as just watching a bland, emotionless movie. It's odd how something I recall so vividly also feels so fake.

But these memories are having some effect on me. He may not have had true emotions during all that time, but I do now, and I no longer feel young anymore because of it. Instead, I feel ancient. I feel the weight of an extreme amount of time on my soul.

This cannot simply be a dream. There is too much new information downloaded into my head. It does not rush to claim me. It's simply there, ready for me to review it at any time that I choose.

A slight snoring sound seizes my attention. I look to my left and notice, for the first time, a woman sleeping next to my bed. In fact, her head is partially on my bed. A woman with a very familiar swirl of red and golden hair.

A woman who couldn't possibly be here.

Then I notice that she's holding my left hand. I squeeze it gently just to test her solidity. Doing so confirms the fact that she seems solid enough, but that should still be impossible. How can Sunset Shimmer be sleeping next to me? Wasn't she in jail?

How long have I been out?

I gently try to pull my hand back from hers without waking her, but I ultimately fail.

“Hmm? What?” Sunset asks in delirium when she felt me try to withdraw my hand. She lifts her head off of my bed tiredly. When I see her face, I see it's matted with about thirty percent of her hair. She has to spit some of it out of her mouth before she can speak further.

“Wha . . . what happened?” Sunset asks tiredly. When she focuses on me, her delight in seeing me awake suddenly clears away most of the fog from her mind. “Cozy!” she exclaims ecstatically.

I finally succeed in pulling my hand from her. After that, I cringe tightly from her, feeling simultaneously confused and guilty.

“You're finally awake, sleepyhead,” Sunset says to me in relief. “I should tell the others. They are going to want to know.”

I continue to regard her with the same look and body language. As her mind continues to clear, she gradually notices.

A knowing look sinks into her face as she asks me, “I'm sure you're wondering how long you've been out and what happened during that time, huh?”

I nod slightly and timidly.

Sunset almost spoke, but then looks to her left as she asks herself with a stunned look, “God, has it really been only two weeks?” She brushes a hand through her hair to comb it away from her face. “It feels so much longer than that.”

My expression remains unchanged.

First her eyes and then her face turns back to me as she says, “I'm sure you have a lot of questions, huh? Well, let me give you the abbreviated version of the story just to clear out the most important details.

“After your confession in front of most of the school . . . No.” She looks down with uncertainty. “Wait, it was a little before that.” She looks back at me. “Shortly after your mother repaired the machine leading to Equestria, her pony self tipped her off on what you did in Equestria. After that, your mother secretly informed the rest of her friends. That's when Rarity finally filled your mother in on all the information she knew before that moment. Rest assured, she kept her word by keeping what she knew to herself until it no longer mattered anymore.

“Once everyone pieced together what was really going on, your mother searched your computer thoroughly and eventually discovered your hidden files. She said you did indeed hide them exceptionally well. You're no amateur at this.

“Once they had access to those files, they had enough evidence to clear me from jail, but they didn't do it right away. First, they wanted to confront you with an intervention to discuss why you did it and hopefully clear the air between you and Diamond.

“Also, just to be clear, nobody is pressing charges against you, Cozy. Absolutely nobody. Your mother had a talk with the whole school about it and convinced them that you were not in your right mind.

“Well . . . it's more of a song and dance she did, actually, but your mother is quite convincing when she wants to be. That's probably why she was so successful landing that job. Besides, you and I both know she's amazing at it.

“There will be some further investigations and court hearings on this matter, but we managed to talk to some lawyers and agreed to go easy on you in light of your physical and mental status. I think we managed to convince some judges to limit your appearance to three meetings as soon as you are up for it, so there is a head's up there. Rest assured, however, that it's merely a formality.

“There are some legal issues we need to iron out. You might be punished for some of your crimes, but I believe it's mostly been reduced to a fine and some time with community service. The fine is not ironed out yet, but Filthy Rich already agreed to pay for all of it, regardless of how much it is. He said that's the least he could do after all that you've done to help his daughter, regardless of your ultimate intentions for her.”

I look down with a guilty look.

“Hey!” Sunset Shimmer reaches to my face and lifts my chin up with a bent finger. “Cheer up! This could have been so much worse for you.

“As for me, I don't know if I told you this before, but I forgive you.”

I pull my face back from her finger as I look even more guilty. More like tortured, actually. Despite all the years I have known her, it's still hard for me to imagine that she forgives me that easily, but even if she does . . . I don't forgive myself. After all that I've done to her, I really do deserve so much worse than this.

Sunny sighs as she sees my anguished look, then she admits, “Look . . . I'm not going to lie to you. Some of those days I spent in prison . . . it was rough. Sometimes it was very rough. I got into some tough scrapes that I haven't seen since I used to be a bully.

“Midway through my incarceration, however, something dawned on me that made me feel a lot better about this. Now, I knew I was personally innocent of the crimes I got accused of that landed me in jail in the first place.”

Sunny looks to her right side with a depressed and a bit bitter look on her face. “I've seen the public say some very ugly things at me both before and during my incarceration. It was horrific to learn that some people still thought of me that way. That was rough, but it's better to face the truth and deal with it rather than letting such things fester in the shadows.” She looks up. “It tells me that I still have my work cut out for me to earn the public's trust again.” She looks at me. “They still haven't given me my old job back, and I think the school never will. Despite me being cleared of all charges, I can't say that everything is water under the bridge yet. A lot of hurts and old wounds still need to heal, and I . . .” she runs her fingers through her hair again, “. . . still need some time to think and clear my head. I've been through a lot recently, but my primary concern is you right now.”

Sunny chuckles a bit as she shakes her head slightly, then announces, “Believe it or not, I did earn a few friends while in prison. It took a couple of songs to pull that off, but,” she shrugs with a proud smile, “I was determined not to let that experience diminish who I am as a person.

“I've learned a lot with my time spent with my friends who lifted me up out of a literal pit in the ground and taught me the value of friendship, so I figured, hey . . . why don't I just do the same thing while in jail? It's always nice to make new friends, and the alliances I forged helped reduce the number of times they roughed me up.

“Even when I was alone, though, I had enough experience being the tough girl to hold my own for a while.

“One of the nice perks about my life is that, as a superhero, I didn't throw almost any of my former villains in jail. Instead, I typically redeemed them, so I did not have too many enemies dead set against me from the start. In fact, I just continued to do what I've always done. I helped others to see the light within themselves, even if they didn't see it at first.

“Pretty much everyone I talked to truly was guilty of the crimes they are accused of. As far as I can tell, I was the only exception among them, but then again . . . I don't know everyone's story. Still, of those I talked to, I eventually got them to confess their crimes and I even managed to make more than a few of them truly regret their crimes. I also managed to convince them that they could become a better person too, just like I did.

“And that's when it hit me. Midway through my time in the slammer, it finally dawned on me that, although I was innocent of the crimes that landed me in prison this time, I got away with many crimes earlier in my life. That weight had always clung to my soul. I never felt that true sense of justice until midway through my time there. After that, it finally occurred to me that my situation could be a blessing in disguise, for it finally allowed me to shed that last lingering guilt that clung to my soul. By paying for the crime that I wasn't punished for earlier and truly deserved, I felt a sense of full, spiritual liberation while in prison.

“Isn't that odd? While I was in jail . . . I finally felt fully free! Free of all the guilt that used to cling to me for all these years. Now, when I face a new dawn, it's light finally and completely illuminates within my soul.”

Sunset Shimmer lifts a fist up near to her face as she declares with a passionate look in her eyes, “That's when I swore to myself that I would liberate myself from all the chains that used to bind me to the past. Instead, I shall embrace the light that dwells within me and use it to illuminate all the rest of the world. I'll help others to find the light within themselves so that they do not remain lost in the darkness either.” She focuses on me. “And Cozy . . . I can see, now, that you need the wisdom and compassion of my experience, too, so I'll share with you all that I am and all that I know if it will help clear your mind of all that clings to your soul as well.”

I cringe at this, for I don't feel like I deserve forgiveness or redemption that easily. Besides, it can't be that easy. Nothing in life ever is. If there is one thing that my life has taught me, it's that life is born of struggle. Even those with an advantage in something do not really have it easy. It just makes things easier, and even then, typically only in specific regards.

“Cozy,” Sunset says with a pleading look as she reaches for my hand, but I shrink back and cringe tightly in my bed. I regard her with eyes that start to blur with tears.

I really don't get it. Why are so many people in my life so nice to me, even when I don't deserve it? They don't know this yet, but they are torturing me now while doing that. I don't want to be forgiven! I really don't deserve it.

Sunset sighs, then says, “You're in the first stage of grief right now, aren't you? You're in denial.”

Denial? Hardly! It's not denial when I'm believing in solid facts!

I open my mouth in order to explain this to her, but I grow shocked when no sound comes out of my mouth. I widen my eyes in horrified astonishment, then try again. Tiny squeaks rise from my throat, but otherwise nothing coherent.

Sunset notices my struggle with alarm.

“Honey . . . you can't talk?!” Sunset asks in alarm.

I try over and over again, but nothing comes out. Finally I look at Sunny as tears pour from my eyes.

I can't talk!

“Oh SHIT!” Sunset exclaims then scrambles to press the button to call for help to this room. Despite the fact that the light does indeed come on, Sunset frantically keeps pressing the button as if that would help summon help faster.

Still in panic mode, Sunset snatches up both of my hands and shakes it as she cries out, “Stay here! I'm going to go outside real quick to get some help!”

She lets go of my hands as she races towards the exit of my room. She does it so quickly that she ends up tripping and stumbling over her own chair which lands her on the floor. Seconds later she crawls back up and scrambles for the exit again. She almost reaches the doorknob when someone finally answers the call button on the intercom in my room.

“This is nurse Redheart speaking. What do you need?” asks a pleasant sounding woman over the intercom.

Sunny scrambles back at the intercom fast and cries out, “Nurse Redheart, come to room B-13 quick! Cozy Glow is finally awake, but she can't talk!”

There is a short pause on the intercom, then Nurse Redheart says, “Sure. I'll come over right away! Just give me a minute.”

“PLEASE HURRY!” Sunset wails desperately.

“I'll come as soon as I can,” Redheart assures. “Just hang on. I'll be right there.”

She hangs up, presumably to do what she said she would do.

Sunset leans both hands on a table in front of the intercom. Her shoulder blades flex under her black leather jacket.

“Cozy . . . you did have a stroke before you got to the hospital,” Sunset announces to me grimly. “It started as a seizure, but this one got real bad, from what I've been told.” She turns her head to look at me to her left side. “Thank goodness that there were so many witnesses there to help you. Your mother tried to use your insulin right away but, for some reason, it didn't work this time.

“After that, I've been told that Rainbow Dash grabbed your unconscious body and rushed you to this hospital at super speed. That was her idea. She said they didn't have time to wait for an ambulance to show up when you could be dying at that very minute, so she rushed you to the hospital herself. Nobody complained later. In fact, Rainbow is celebrated as an awesome hero for that rescue.

“Once you got here, I've been told it was touch and go several times. You had all of us very worried.”

I frown as tears blur my eyes again. Yet another thing for me to feel guilty over.

Oh God! I can't stand this all! I wish I could end everything! My whole goddamn life! It's just been one miserable curse after another!

Nurse Redheart shows up with a brief rap on my door. When she is invited in, she spends the next ten minutes physically checking on me. She looks into my mouth while holding my tongue down with a small stick and aiming a tiny flashlight down my throat. She uses a stethoscope to listen to the sound of my throat, several places along my back and chest before concluding that there does not seem to be any physical damage to my ability to speak, but admits that the stroke might have caused brain damage that is hindering my ability to speak. It could just be temporary, though.

She admits that, after everything I've gone through, it might also be psychosomatic. Perhaps emotional trauma of what I've gone through might be the cause instead of physical damage due to the seizure, but she adds that there is no way to be sure yet without running through some further tests. She assures Sunny that she'll put in an order for those.

In an attempt to cheer us up, she adds that the good news is I am finally awake, seem well aware of my environment, and my condition seems stable. She wants to keep me in the hospital for at least a week to monitor my condition, but it seems unlikely, at this point, that my condition will deteriorate. If anything, it's more likely to improve, including my ability to speak again.

When Sunset asks the nurse for advice in the meantime, Redheart replies that she should just be with me and talk with me. I seem to be able to hear and comprehend language, and my vision seems fine as well.

Sunset nods in acceptance then thanks Redheart for this visit and advice. She replies with a bright smile that it is her pleasure. She also adds to call her immediately if I go through any more changes. In the meantime, I'm hooked to a heart monitor so they'll be alerted if there are any dramatic changes to my health.

Then the nurse departs from my room.

I feel numb. If I truly lost my ability to speak . . .

Well, I guess that's one way to ensure that I speak no evil. No more telling lies for this little girl.

Girl . . . that feels a little strange to acknowledge, now. A vast majority of my memories are now of being an evil ghostly stallion, yet all those centuries of knowledge and planning has had such little emotional impact on me. It kind of leaves me feeling confused about who I really am anymore.

Could that be why I can't talk anymore? Is my brain overloaded with too much new information now? Did that really short-circuit me?

I don't know if that hypothesis is really scientific.

Really, I don't know much of anything, anymore. My whole reality feels a bit unreal right now. I can't even be sure if I'm still dreaming or not.

Then, all of a sudden, I feel a magical pulse boom through the room. With all of my new centuries of knowledge on how to cast spells and detect it, I am now certain that is what I felt.

Apparently Sunny felt it too. Both of us look at her left coat pocket. Within it is a reddish glow. She pulls it out which reveals her red magic crystal shard.

I widen my eyes in amazement at it, for it suddenly reminds me of the Red Crystal my descendent used to bring down my Black Obelisk. Within that crystal housed the last true essence of my former self, the pony I was before I split apart from him and rose to become the Dark King.

Huh. I wonder what happened to him after that?

“You sense it too?” Sunset asks me in surprise as she regards me. “This crystal is attuned to me, and it still is, but . . . you have an affinity for it too, for some reason.”

I lower my eyes drolly. She has no idea that I've actually have centuries of knowledge about crystal science. Obviously I created a feedback loop with it when I, Cozy Glow, contacted it and used it earlier. Ever since then, I've gained an attunement to it and, thanks to Sombra's knowledge, I have more of an idea why this is so.

Sunny's crystal has an affinity for mind magic. I can't say I lack expertise in using something like that.

Staring at the crystal, I feel a bit entranced by it. There is a part of me that eagerly wants to claim it selfishly to myself. I've had a hunger for magic crystals for a very long time now, and plenty of experience creating such devices too.

Such as the Crystal Heart. That, and the Crystal Empire, is my finest masterpiece, but not even I was powerful enough or knowledgeable enough to craft such things on my own. Much of those achievements were accomplished due to accessing the research notes of Clover the Clever.

“You know,” Sunset closes her hand around her crystal into a fist, “this gives me an idea. If you really can't speak, maybe I could use this to find out why.” She looks at me. “Nurse Redheart suggested that one potential reason for your inability to talk could be psychosomatic. If that's true, I can use this to potentially find out why.”

I cringe a bit. Allowing her to poke into my mind? I don't know about that. What if the condition I have is somehow contagious? I wouldn't normally think a psychological problem to be contagious, but using magic to access someone else's mind opens up unusual and dangerous possibilities, and I care too much for Sunny to permit her to risk that. God damn it, she's been through enough hell because of me!

“I know.” Sunny looks at the crystal in her palm. “It's risky, but I've handled this before.” She closes her hand on the crystal and looks back at me. “Besides, I'm a superhero. It's my job to help others, even if it means taking risks. I'm especially motivated to do this in order to gain the chance to heal someone important to me.” Sunset faces me fully as she places the hand that holds the crystal, still in a fist, to her chest as she pleads, “Please, Cozy, permit me to do this! I don't think I can face the rest of my friends again knowing that I didn't do all that I could to help alleviate the situation.”

I smile at her softly just a bit. That sounds one-hundred percent like the Sunny I know and love. Even if part of me is still concerned that none of this is real, this is absolutely how the real Sunny would behave if she is here. It's one of the reasons why I love her so much. She truly cares for me. Even if she didn't, she'd still follow her heart wherever it takes her, even if it's into danger for the sake of another.

The trouble here is I care for her too. Enough for it to bother me how much this puts a risk on her shoulders. My crushing guilt over what I put her through also contributes to my reluctance. It's so painful to me now that I don't really want to live anymore.

“Please, Cozy!” Sunset Shimmer begs me. “I'm not going to force you, but I really want to do this! If there is even a chance that this could help you, I want to do it.”

Sunset takes a few steps forward as she brings up another point. A far more devastating point.

“You owe me, Cozy!” Sunset reminds me sharply. “I went to jail because of you! I suffered through hell because of you! Luckily I found a way to make it work, but that is because of who I am as a person. It could have been so much worse if I had a negative attitude about it all along.

“I also kept my suspicions to myself about your crimes other than Rarity squeezing me for answers. She already suspected you so I told her what I knew of the situation in exchange for her silence. That was a painful bargain for her, but she understood my reasons. She knew that I did not want to hurt you, your mother, or any of my friends.”

Tears squeeze out of my eyes. What she is telling me is painfully twisting my arm. I still feel extremely reluctant, but she's right. I owe her big time, and if this is one of the payments that she's insisting upon, I cannot deny her, no matter how much I want to.

I press both of my hands to my face as I sob for about a minute. Anguish pours out of me. So much pain . . . I'm sick of it all! All of my life, or lives I should say, has been a lie. I've been an empty shell of a person. A miserable excuse of an existence that brings nothing but pain upon others, and I'm so sick and tired of being the cause of other people's suffering! I just want to end it all!

Now I know how Diamond Tiara felt just a few moons ago. Admittedly, I came close to that miserable when my birth parents abandoned me.

Well, they were arrested, but it’s the same ultimate difference. In fact, the truth is kind of worse.

I don't know how or when I'm going to do it, but I feel resolved.

However, before I die, perhaps I can grant Sunny this one last request. If I die first, she'll be left behind forever wondering what she could have done better. If I open myself now, at least she'd know why the situation is hopeless.

I still feel painfully reluctant, but I slowly lower my hands from my face and nod to her in acceptance.

Man, I spent years dreading this experience, and now it's finally going to happen.

Well, I confessed most of my deepest secrets anyway, and this is my last chance to fully and completely clear the table before I end it all.

Sunny smiles at me radiantly as she says, “Thank you, Cozy!”

She sits next to me by scooting the chair next to my bed very closely. She then reaches a hand out for me but pauses there, waiting for me to reach back.

At first I do so with my left quaking hand, but then reflexively pull back.

I really don't want to do this!

“Please, Cozy, give me your hand!” Sunset begs. “I'm not going to hurt you! I promise! Instead, I want to do all that I can to help you.”

I look at her accusingly as I think to myself, “You think I want to be helped? I don't deserve it! I'm a monster! I'm an awful person who's been hurting others all of her life! For centuries, even!”

Sunset holds her ground. She continues to reach out to me and waits.

Damn it! You're not going to give up, are you?

Well fine then. Have it your way. I don't deserve to have it my way.

I plop my left hand into hers. She immediately encloses it with both of her hands as she tells me, “Thank you, Cozy.”

Yeah-yeah! Whatever! Let's just get this over with!

Sunset closes her eyes.

With fascination, I notice her channel a link to her magic crystal. The pathway of that magical flow feels so familiar to me now, yet I'm still experiencing giddy excitement over it like some little girl.

Suddenly Sunset's eyes open. They are engulfed with a brilliant white light. After that, white light assails me, then we are both somewhere else.

It's actually a place I was in not long ago. A black void with a gray disk as the ground beneath for a short distance. Ahead of me, I behold a very unusual sight. I see not one, but two Sunset Shimmers.

One of them is wearing the same outfit I saw a moment ago which is gray pants, a black punk jacket with a dark purple shirt beneath and a red/gold sun splayed across the chest area of the shirt.

The other Sunset Shimmer is the angelic seraphim I've only encountered a small handful of times before, mostly in my dreams.

“What the-” the Sunset in the black jacket exclaims in surprise. “Well, this is unexpected!” Her eyes focus on her other self. She widens her eyes at her counterpart as she asks, “Who are you?”

“Words will soon be unnecessary,” the angel Sunset says as she floats in front of her counterpart while reaching out both of her hands. “Take my hands . . . and I'll give you all of the memories I've accumulated thus far. Also, we shall merge back into one being again.”

Human Sunset looks at me questioningly, to which I give an innocent shrug. She then looks back at her counterpart and says, “Ah . . . alright. You seem friendly, so I'll trust you.”

That comment seems to amuse angel Sunset, but it does not change her actions. She continues to offer her hands to her other self. When her hands are taken, brilliant golden light explodes out from angel Sunset. She becomes the light a second later then draws into her other self. Human Sunset's eyes glow white as she floats off the ground.

White engulfs me, then fades to black. After that, my vision clears up again back in the hospital.

I look to my left. There, I see Sunset Shimmer. She is still conked out for a few seconds, but she shortly awakens after me. Following that, she appears to need a few moments to sort her head due to all of the new jumble of memories she suddenly inherited.

Oh my God! Did the real Sunset Shimmer just receive all the memories of the mental schism that's been in my head for many moons? That would mean the real Sunset Shimmer now knows what I dreamed about too!

Now that she's inherited, and probably fully merged with, her other self, it's sort of like the real Sunset was with me all along!

I see Sunset shake her head in a final effort to clear her head, then her eyes grow small as she realizes something extremely alarming.

“No!” she exclaims then regards me in devastating alarm. “Kill yourself?! Really?! That's what's going through your mind right now?!”

I lower my eyes, no longer able to meet her gaze. I didn't know that would be the first thing she'd latch on to, but I should have seen it coming. Damn it! I sure have slipped far lately.

“No, Cozy! NO!” Sunset cries out. “NOOOOOOO!!!”

She launches to her feet so fast that she inadvertently flung her chair back which crashes into a counter full of medical supplies. After that, she leans down into me and forcefully pulls me into a hug.

So much for permission now!

“DON'T YOU DARE, COZY! I WON'T LET YOU!” Sunset screeches insistently as she rocks me while continuing to squeeze me in an almost painful hug, yet part of me is delighted anyway. I love tight hugs!

“This is the WORST thing you could possibly do to me, Cozy! The WORST possible thing!

“NO, Cozy! NO-NO-NO! I won't let you take my precious little girl away from me! Not like this! NEVER like this!”

I feel stunned. My mind is numb. I don't know how to process this much love and concern for me.

“I don't think you can possibly understand how serious this is! How much you've hurt me with awful thoughts like that! This is the worst possible betrayal you've ever done to me, Cozy! The worst! This is far worse than the time you sent me to jail! At least, then, I knew you were still out there in the world!”

I'm still numb. I don't even blink.

“Here!” Sunset forcefully grabs my hands and places them over her chest. “Do you feel my heart rate? Do you sense how fast it's pumping right now?”

Finally letting go of me, I sink back into my bed. She lifts up her shivering hands between us, then declares, “LOOK at my hands, Cozy! LOOK at them! THIS is what you've done to me! This has never happened to me before! Not ever this badly!”

Tears rise to her eyes. Snot clogs her nose.

Upon seeing all of this, tears rise to my own eyes as well. Once again, I'm given another reminder how much my existence is hurting others I care about.

Sunset looks upon her own shivering hands as if stunned to see it herself, then I see her wave about unsteadily. She seems about ready to faint!

I suddenly sit up in alarm, looking at her with massive concern, but she holds up a shaking hand to me to forestall me, silently indicating she'll be alright soon.

I hear her weep in pain as she collapses on her knees. She crawls to her chair that was flung back a moment ago. Once she gets a hold of it, she drags it back to the side of my bed with massive difficulty for such an otherwise mundane task, but she does manage it.

“I honestly can't believe this!” Sunset exclaims in a somewhat drained voice when she sits next to me again. “You call yourself a monster? You would have proven it if you carried through with that threat! Don't you ever . . . EVER . . . let me catch you thinking like that again!”

I shrink and cringe tightly from her, feeling painfully admonished. On top of everything else I suffered through recently, this feels like she's scratching at what was already third-degree burns on my skin.

“Cozy,” she reaches forward to snatch my left hand again. She pulls it to her lips to kiss it, then clasps it tightly between both of her hands. She shakes it slightly for emphasis as she asks, “When are you going to learn that we're not teasing or lying to you when we claim that we love you? Don't you understand what that means? It means we need you, Cozy! We need you to breathe! We need you to help us feel complete! You are a part of our lives, Cozy, so that means we are all in this together! Me, you, your mother, Pinkie Pie, Applejack, Rarity, Fluttershy, Rainbow Dash, your new sister Diamond, Sweetie Belle, Scootaloo, Silver Spoon . . . the list goes on and on! You can't just expect to show up in our lives, affect us as deeply as you do, then give a two-finger salute as you take off and say, 'So long, suckers! Thanks for the meals and hugs! You're really a swell bunch of characters!'

“NO, Cozy! Life does not work like that! When you become part of our lives, you are like a piece of a puzzle we need to complete us! Without you, we are incomplete, and I mean ALL OF US, dammit! It's too late to back off now and expect no lingering damage! It's far too late for that!

“We have loved you and you've been in our hearts since the first day we met, Cozy! That's how long it's been! That was the point of no return for us!”

I close my eyes and wince tightly on my face. My breathing becomes irregular as I heave a sob.

“Please believe me,” Sunset begs as she shakes my left hand between both of hers, “we'll get through all of this together! The pain, the sorrow, the bitterness, the regrets, the nightmares . . . your, ah . . . curious acquisition of King Sombra's memories.”

While still covering half my face with my right hand, my left eye peers at Sunset through the blurriness of my tears. I had wondered, until now, if Sunset picked up on those memories and experience of her other self, too. Now it feels like I just received the proof.

“None of that matters,” Sunset assures me a little more calmly. “You are still Cozy Glow, our precious little girl! All I have to say to your other self is . . . well, this is unexpected, but not wholly unwelcome. Welcome back to life, Sombra, but remember that this is Cozy's life now. For as long as you are here, you are now Cozy Glow from now on through the rest of her life, potentially.”

As I look forward with blurry tears, I realize that I'm not sure how to process this. The part of me that's still him feels awkward and strange in this situation.

Meanwhile, I have my memories as Cozy too, and despite the fact that there are much fewer of those memories in comparison, it has a much greater emotional impact on me. It feels far more real for some reason.

Yeah. Whatever Sombra was, if he's now a part of me . . . then he only lingers as a memory. There is no will or ego left in him. Despite how strong it appeared before, perhaps there never was any true ego. Maybe he was just a program stuck on default commands all along.

It sort of feels like he's my past life now. I am not sure if that is or was ever true, but it's just the way I feel. Just a memory whose importance will quickly fade.

Whatever I was and whatever I shall become, I know this for sure . . . in this life, I am Cozy Glow.

For better . . . and for worse.
> Chapter Forty Four: Hospital Visit Part 2, My Mother
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The nurse helped me to get to the bathroom within my hospital room. Not only did she provide assistance to make sure I got  there without any mishaps, but she also remains to ensure that I do not  accidentally or deliberately hurt myself along the way. Ever since  Sunset Shimmer tipped everyone else off that I might be suicidal, I’m  never allowed a single moment of privacy, not even in the bathroom. 

I  enter the bathroom while pulling the IV pole. Once I enter inside, I  pause for a moment just to look at and admire myself in my reflection,  specifically the fact that I can, once again, control my own body. 

With one hand still on the IV pole, the other lifts up  in front of me. I wiggle my fingers just to prove to myself that I can  do it. After that, I turn my head from side to side as I examine each of  my cheeks. I feel giddy at  the simple pleasure that my body responds to my mental commands without  delay. Normally that is something I take for granted until that awful  dream where I couldn't control my body because King Sombra did it  instead. 

Except . . . in a way . . . he never gave up that control. He's still controlling my body . . . but so am I. We both are. It is a merged control due to our merged consciousness. 

“You alright, Miss?” the chubby nurse asks beside me. 

I look at her. 

It  sinks into me how much she looks like Applejack considering her  cream-colored skin and white freckles on her cheeks, but the truth is  the resemblance stops there. This lady is at least middle age, if not  older. She has more weight, and her hair color is different. It's mostly  white, but I see faint hints of purple in it, quite likely the color  her hair once had more of in youth. In this case, though, her nurse's  hat hides most of her hair. Only a tiny bit of it peaks out the front of her forehead. 

It feels a little weird to be called “Miss” now. It feels both familiar to me and alien at the same time. 

Just like my face. 

Looking  back at my reflection, I inwardly discern how it feels both familiar  and strange simultaneously. The part of me that's still Sombra is  convinced that this is not  my face. He's convinced that, not only is my gender wrong, but my  species entirely. Normally he would feel revolted at this face, but that  feeling is empty. It's more like talking about the mere idea of being  disgusted rather than actually experiencing it. 

It's odd. I feel like a stranger to myself now. The duality splits my mind. 

I  move myself to the toilet. As I start to lift my gown enough so that my  bare butt cheeks can meet the toilet seat, I pause for a brief moment as the nurse asks me if I need any assistance. I shake my head to her to reassure her that I think I'm fine, and I am. I meet this challenge with very little difficulty. 

After  I sit down, however, my mind wanders. Now that I'm armed with new  knowledge of what it's like to be an ancient stallion, I try to recall  if being forced to sit down on the toilet is part of that “alien”  feeling that pervades my life recently. 

The answer that comes back surprises me a bit. While it is true that having a vagina now feels strange, the mere fact I have to sit down to use the toilet is not. I find that odd until I examine my new memories further. 

These memories aren't clear to me because the ones from Sombra's past are actually quite distant. He spent most of his time in Equestria in smoke form. 

However,  before that, when he needed to use the “outhouse” or various other  restroom facilities, it occurred to me why being a quadruped is a major  factor in this situation. Because their genitals are further from the  toilets due to their physiology, males have to sit down in Equestria too. Ponies can stand upright for brief amounts of time if they have to, but it doesn't feel natural to them. 

I  feel disappointed upon realizing that, yet it's also a little  fascinating to dwell upon this sort of new information. I had hoped that  I'd be able to draw a little more on what it's like to have a male  experience, but it turns  out a female experience feels equally weird to me now. I'm no longer  comfortable enough in either territory for it to feel natural anymore. 

I suspect that will pass in time. I have a lifetime to get used to being me again, and I'm still quite young in this life. 

I have over a thousand years of life experience to get used to, yet it also feels like I have to get accustomed to Cozy's extra seventeen years . . . or is it eighteen now? 

If my birthday hasn't passed yet while I was unconscious, then I suspect it's coming soon. 

Well,  I don't know how long this weird “getting used to my own body and life”  phase is going to continue. For now, it is just as fascinating as it is  disturbing. 

I  look at the nurse a little timidly while I do my business. For the most  part, she is actively avoiding looking at me except during the brief moment  I look back at her. When our eyes meet, she seems to non-verbally ask  if I need any help. In response, I simply look away. I assume she does  too. 

When I'm done, she's a little more insistent to provide assistance.  Not only does she help me rise, but she wipes my own ass. My face  blushes with a bit of embarrassment since I feel like I'm being treated  like a baby, but I don't complain. I know she's just doing her job. 

“I  know. It feels weird not to be independent,” the nurse acknowledges as  if she can read my thoughts, but it is likely she ascertains this  knowledge because she has to deal with it with others all the time.  “That's what happens when you're unwell, Honey, but don't worry. You are  here to get well again, and I'm sure you'll be out of here soon.” 

I  meet her smile as she says to me with a reassuring tone, “And I'm sure  you'll regain your voice in no time, too. You'll probably even be  singing by the end of the week.” 

I sigh as I think, “One could only hope.” 

After she helps me out of the bathroom, I notice I have a new visitor in my room, my mother. 

I am immediately assailed with the feeling of both ecstatic joy and dread to see her. It is very pleasant to see her again, but I have a strong feeling that what she's going to say will be painful as hell. 

Somehow  the nurse also notices the sudden tension in the room. Because of it,  she decides to excuse herself from the room, correctly assuming that what will happen next is a private family affair. 

Before  she fully leaves, though, she assures us both that she'll be just down  the hallway if either of us need anything from her. 

There  is that and the cop that is outside, also waiting. Since some things I  have done, or might plan to do, have legal concerns, Officer Badges has  been assigned to my room for several days now, but only outside of my  room. 

When  the nurse leaves, the cop outside shuts my door after giving us both a  brief nod as if to say, “If you need me, I'll be right out here too.” 

After the door is shut, that's it. My mother and I are alone together. 

I  can't say hi to her, so I merely wave hi to her as I make my way back  onto my bed. Someone should come along and hook me up to the heart  monitor again, but it seems we have this temporary privacy. 

“How  are you feeling, Dear?” my mother asks me. I notice how she sounds  exhausted as she asks me. The tear stains on her cheeks also don't  escape my notice. 

In response, I gesture to my throat and shake my head no. 

“Oh.”  Tears rose to my mother's eyes again, quite unlikely for the first time  in recent history. “I forgot. You have aphasia right now.” Her face  squeezes with pain. “The doctors say there doesn't appear to be anything  wrong with your chest and lungs, so the damage isn't coming from there.  Most agree that this is either psychological, or it has something to do  with the stroke. We can't rule out either of those possibilities, but  I'm glad that you're at least awake and aware.” My mother clenches  tightly to her skirt as she says, “I was really scared there for a  while. I was afraid I was going to lose you.” 

Oh man! Here it comes! Here comes the feels! 

My mother cries harder as she says, “Then, after Sunset told me that she examined your head, with your permission, of course, she said that you wanted to kill yourself?” 

I look away from her. I cannot meet her eyes right now. 

“Why, Cozy?” my mother wails sadly. “Where have I gone wrong? How have I failed you so badly that my own child wants to kill herself?” 

A  sob bursts to my face despite all my efforts to try to choke it down. I  knew this was going to hurt, but goddamn! Hearing her blame herself  agonizes me. 

“Did  I not hug you enough? Did I not love you enough? Did I not sing to you  enough? Did I not provide for you enough? Did I somehow make you feel  unsafe or insecure? Tell me, please!” My mother sobs into her hands. “I must be the worst mother in the world!” 

NO! NOOOOO! Damn it, I can't stand this any longer! 

I  reach out of my bed and grasp one of her hands. I had to lean quite a  bit beyond my bed to finally reach her. She doesn't even notice the  attempt until I grasp her right hand. She looks back at me with a start  while tears fog her glasses. 

Feeling  desperate to get her to understand, I use my right hand, the opposite  of the one grasping at her hand, to point to her. When I do so, I firmly  shake my head no. 

Then I point at myself and sadly nod yes very slowly. 

After  that I stare at her, hoping she got the message. Normally she's smart  enough to pick up on this easily, but she's being very emotional right  now, so I have my doubts. 

She  is still crying, but she starts to calm down. She sniffs a bit, then  asks, “So . . . what you're saying is that it's not my fault, but yours?” she checks. 

I nod again, this time a little more firmly. 

“I  see.” She looks down sadly. “Well . . . the adoption agency warned me  that you had some baggage on your shoulders before I adopted you. The  thing is, even though I knew that and accepted it, I had hoped that I could ease your burden.” 

You have! 

Damn  it, Mom, don't do this to me! Moreover, don’t do this to yourself! You  have been an almost inhumanly perfect mother. Mary Poppins herself  couldn't hold a candle next to you. 

Instead of you, I'm the one who is at fault, here. I'm responsible for my own mess. 

Darn it. I need to find a way to communicate with her. 

I  think hard on this for a moment, then I brighten with an idea. I look  at her and tap her hard repeatedly to get her attention. Once I have it,  I let go of her hand and pretend to hold a cellphone in my left hand. I  pretend to type on the imaginary cellphone. 

“Oh!” my mother exclaims brightly. “Good idea! 

“Hold on. Let me get my cellphone.” 

My mother lifts up  her purse to her lap and sifts through it. While she does so, she says,  “Forgive me, but I still haven't gotten a replacement for the one you busted, but if this works, I promise you I'll make replacing it my top priority.” 

She finds her phone relatively quickly. After all, my darling mother is very well organized, just like I used to be. 

Before handing me the phone, she uses it herself to activate a certain application, then she hands it to me. 

“I  brought up a notepad application, so anything you type here, I'll be  able to see after you type it then show it to me,” my mother mentions. 

That  is my plan exactly. I snatch up her phone and quickly type a message,  but it turns out to be a minor mistake. Because of my haste, I end up  typing in some mistakes, and my OCD does not allow that. I probably  ended up taking more time having to erase my message and typing it  again, this time more carefully and slowly. 

When I finally finish, I show her the message. 

When  she finishes it, I know it says: Please don't blame yourself for what  happened to me, Mom. Everything that happened to me is MY fault. You've  been nothing but a perfect mother to me. I love you! 

Tears  rise to her eyes again after she reads that, but this time it is happy  tears. She lifts up her glasses to wipe her eyes with a tissue paper  while quietly telling me, “Thank you! I love you too, my darling Cozy!  My special little girl!” 

I flip the cellphone screen back to face me and type another message, then show that one to her. 



::  I don't ever want to hear you blaming yourself for what happened to me.  You are easily the best thing that ever happened to me. You gave me a  HOME, Mom! You picked up a desperate and lonely child and gave her what  she really needed, a warm hug and a cozy home. 



I show her this message after I finish typing and correcting it. 

After reading it, my mother bursts into another round of sobs, but again, I could tell that it is in a good way. 

While she tries to emotionally recover from that one, I flip the phone back to me and type the next message. 

I have pretty good timing. By the time she's recovered enough to read the next message, I finish a few seconds later. 



::  I'm sorry that I lied to you for all these years. The truth is I was  angry and bitter this whole time, but not at you. NEVER at you. Instead,  my anger was directed at Diamond . . . but perhaps it should have been  directed at myself all along. 



My mother sniffs at that message, then asks me in concern, “Do you still want to kill yourself, Honey?” 

I  hesitate after she asks that while I think about it, then I type up the  most honest and reassuring answer I could think of. When I finish, I  show her the message. 



::  Not if it's going to hurt you. I owe you the WORLD, Mom! I am greatly  in your debt. If you ask me to never kill myself, then I shall not. 



She squints at the message with a frown, then passes the same disapproving look to me as she says, “Owe me? You don't owe me anything, Honey! That is not how love works. It seems you've never understood that.” 

She clasps my left hand in both of hers. For as long as she does that, I can't type to her. 

Or, at least, it would be considerably more difficult. 

It seems, for the moment, she firmly wants my attention, so I give it to her. 

“I need you to understand something once and for all,” my mother begins. “Friendship is not like currency. It is not like a video game where we keep track of a 'score' of who owes who what. Instead, it is like an endless flow of a river. I give to you because I feel I have to, and I want to. That's my job as your mother, and it is a duty I proudly assume. 

“I need you to understand that you never had to earn  my love. Instead, you had it even before we met. You had it when I  first beheld your picture in your profile at the adoption center. I  choked back a sob the moment I laid eyes upon it. I could instantly tell  that this was a child who desperately needed a good home and a loving  mother. 

“When I saw your picture, everything in my life suddenly gained such clarity! All of a sudden, I instantly understood one of the major purposes of my life. I was put on this earth to adopt you, Cozy! The moment you entered into my life, I felt complete! I hope you felt the same way. I did everything I could to make sure of it. 

“So remember this lesson always, my darling Cozy! You don't have to fight so hard to earn my affection because, I'm telling you now, you'll never run out of my love for you in my heart. It is an endless flow. I'll just keep giving over and over and over again because I have to! It's who I am now! You made me this way the moment you walked into my heart. You are stuck in there, Cozy . . . forever!” 

My mother shakes my hand fiercely as she begs, “PLEASE understand this! I'm begging you! Don't fight so hard, because you don't need to. All this time, I thought you were just struggling to make me prouder of you, but if you ever doubted my love and feared that I might kick you out because you didn't earn my love enough, then you sadly have mistaken me.” 

I smile at her gratefully and lovingly. I didn't know, until now, how much I needed to hear those words. 

But,  for me to respond, I need both of my hands free, so I look down at my  hands clasped between hers then back up to her with a poignant look. 

For  a few seconds, she is indeed confused, but then she recalls that I  can't speak to her except through a text on her phone, so she instantly lets go the moment she realizes that and says, “Oh, sure. Go ahead, Honey. Type what you like.” 

I type a message, then show her. 



::  It's honestly both. I fought this hard to be a perfectionist both  because I feared you'd abandon me if I didn't, like I thought my last  parents did, but I also did it to make you proud of me. Winning those  contests with my violin, the chess tournaments, then on to Student  Council President . . . I did it ALL for your sake. I feared that you'd  stop loving me if I didn't do all of these things, and I ALSO wanted you to love me more. 



My mother sighs, closes her eyes, shakes her head, then opens her eyes back at me as she says, “Love you more?! That already happens every single day! Sometimes my chest hurts so badly because of the intensity of my love for you. 

“I  didn't know, until I met you, that a human being was capable of so much  love for another human being, but you keep upping the ante every day  that I know you. This is another reason why I insist you don't owe me  anything. You reward me every day just by being with me and being my  precious daughter!” 

Oh Mom! I love you so much too! 

I  push the cellphone aside then give a “Come here,” gesture while opening  my arms wide, inviting her in for a hug. She gladly obliges, and in  fact continues to hold me for quite some time. 

While doing so, she sings. 



“You are my sunshiiiiiiiiine, my only sunshiiiine 

You make me happyyyyyyyyyy . . . when skies are grayyyyyyyy 

You'll never know deeeeeeeeear . . . how much I love yoooooooooou,” 



Mom chokes up a bit at the “you” part of the lyrics. She struggles hard with her own emotions in order to press on. 



“Please don't taaaaaaaaaaaake . . . my sunshiiiiiiiiiiiiine . . . awaaaaaaaaaaaay.” 



The gravity of those words hit me like a truck. I end up sobbing just as hard into her chest, too.
> Chapter Forty Six: Hospital Visit Part 3, My Sister
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“She  should be here any minute now,” my mother informs me after she checks  her text messages in her smart glasses which are linked to her  cellphone. When her vision focuses from the message to me, she tells me  in a slightly scolding tone, “Now you behave with your sister. I don't  want to hear about any fights between you.” 

I shake my head to indicate to her that I won't get into a fight with her, and I mean it. I'm quite weary of fights lately. 

“She is more  than just a friend to the family, now,” my mother reminds me. “Diamond  Tiara is now your sister.” My mother shrugs slightly. “Not legally yet .  . . but still . . . she lives in our house now, which means she's now  part of our family. 

“Remember,  Cozy, I specifically asked you if you were okay with it, and you said  yes, so . . . now it's too late to back off from that decision. She's  our friend and family now. I want you two to get along.” 

I  nod in acceptance to my mother. I already determined long ago that if  it came between a choice of my revenge against Tiara or maintaining my  mother's love, I'd choose my mother's love in a heartbeat. 

Well, it finally has come to that point. My mother assures me that I'm not at risk of losing her love no matter what, but I could disappoint her, and that potential punishment serves as enough of a deterrent. 

Besides,  I pretty much knew my plans against Diamond were a bust when too many  of my former minions turned on me. My confession at the school was my  last-ditch effort to hurt her, but I knew that strategy would have a  severe price. 

In fact, that price is so high it feels insane to me that I actually went  through with it up until I seemingly allowed Sombra to control my body.  Supposedly, that's the point I went into a severe seizure instead. 

I reach my left hand out in an attempt to  grasp either one of my mother's hands. At first her hands are too far  until she reaches back with both hands. Once I have a grip, I squeeze  her hands reassuringly while also nodding yes to my mother, and I mean  it this time. My war against Diamond is now over. 

But  just because I am ending my war with Diamond does not mean that there  isn’t some clean up damage left. Emotional scars that deep might need a  great deal of time to heal. 

“Thank  you, Honey!” My mother beams at me proudly with happy tears in her  eyes. “I know that isn't easy for you after all you've been through with  her, but remember this; many people have forgiven you  for your past transgressions. Even the law will go easy on you once we  make a few arrangements. In exchange for all this leniency, I want you  to forgive your new sister, Cozy.” 

This  time I'm not so quick to agree because I don't want to lie to her.  Since my response begs something more than a yes or no answer, I pick up  the paper notepad in front of me on my movable hospital table as well  as the pen beside it. I jot a note in elegant cursive handwriting that  would impress Rarity, then show her my message. 



:: I'm not going to lie to you. That  request is going to take some time, but I promise I will try, Mom. For  you, I'm willing to do anything. I owe you so much, and YES, I know you  feel like I don't owe you anything, but that is not how I feel. I don't know if I will ever feel like I've settled my debt with you. 



“Just be with me,” my mother responds after she read my message. “Continue to be my very special daughter. That will be reward enough for me.” 

There is a knock on my door. My new sister, Diamond, gently pushes her way into my room. I quickly discern that she has a very nervous reaction to seeing me. She's even shuffling her feet. 

“I'm glad you're awake,” Diamond tells me happily but also nervously. “You really had us worried there.” 

“I'll  leave you two to catch up,” my mother declares as she rises from her  seat. “And don't worry,” she tells me, “I'll go ahead and purchase you a  new cellphone as soon as I leave. You said you want the same model or  better, right?” 

I nod to my mother. 

“Okay.”  My mother nods back. “I'll go ahead and do that. In the meantime, you  got that notepad and pen which you can use to communicate with anyone  who visits, unless you get your voice back. If you run out of ink or  paper, the nurses assure me they'll bring you another.” 

I nod at her reassuringly then give her a dismissive gesture, bidding her to leave. 

Before  she does that, she bends over to kiss my forehead. Almost reflexively, I  lean forward into that kiss in a subconscious effort to intensify the  pressure. 

“You'll  be better soon,” my mother promises. “I'll do everything in my power to  ensure it. My pony self even assures me that she's looking into  purchasing a potion from a woman named Zecora which might help with your  aphasia.” 

Zecora? Hmm. Consulting my memories from Sombra, his mind draws a blank on that name. 

I  think I vaguely recall Sunset mentioning that name once upon a time,  but I forget why it came up. That memory is so vague I almost feel like I  dreamed it. 

Eh. Oh well. If my mother's counterpart trusts this woman, it might be worth a shot. At this point, I'm willing to try anything. 

Of  course, there is no guarantee that the potion will survive the journey  across the dimensions. Objects do indeed seem to be affected when they  make the trip. 

I have a feeling my mother is thinking that too, but she didn’t mention it to me for fear of me losing what little hope I’ve gained. Regardless, I am genuinely touched by the effort and the sentiment. 

My  mother starts to make her way out, but she pauses next to Diamond for a  moment as she places a reassuring hand on Diamond's shoulder as she  says, “Give it time. She's not  fully healed yet, but she's a lot better off than she was yesterday.  She also assures me she has no suicidal intentions anymore, and I  believe her.” 

“Well,” Diamond shrugs, “I guess we have that experience in common, now.” 

Indeed. The irony of that has not escaped me, either. 

“Don't  worry. I'll give you both plenty of reasons to enjoy living,” our  mother promises us, then heads out the door. “You two get along, now,”  our mother instructs before shutting the door. 

Diamond  looks at me nervously, but it's clearly a struggle for her to meet my  eyes. For a while she just stands there as we stare at each other, then  she asks, “Um . . . mind if I sit down next to you?” 

I nod as I gesture to the seat beside me. It's a free country, after all. 

“Thank  you.” Diamond moves to sit down beside me. From there, she takes a deep  intake of breath, holds it for about four seconds, then unleashes it.  Shortly thereafter, she says, “I spoke with my father about what you  said to me at school the last time we spoke to each other. Now I just  want to say that, for the record, I really don't recall meeting you at  all when we were children but, if you say we have, then I guess we have. 

“At first, my father had no idea what I was talking about when I mentioned to him about him firing your  father, but he looked into it since I assured him that this is  important to me. Right off the bat, however, he assured me that my personal opinion  would have no sway over his own opinion of an employee. He promised me  that, even if I did beg him to fire your father, he would have ignored  me back then. At most he might listen to why I felt that way, but he'd make no action against said employee just on my say-so. 

“So  he looked up the date and location in question and found a total of  four employees fired that year, but only one matched the description you  gave us in-so-far as him working with the company twenty years prior.  Your father's name was Artis Zimmermon, wasn't he?” 

I simply nod. 

“Uh  . . . yeah.” Diamond leans back in her seat. “That man really did know  his stuff on a technical level, which makes sense. Anyone who's been  with the company for that long would know how to work it, but my father  read the notes on Artis and discovered that he fired your father on the  grounds that he was harassing some of his co-workers. As in, the kind of  harassment that could get the company sued.” 

I  look away from Diamond as dreadful realization sinks into me. This  means that my father was fired for his own faults. The fact that Diamond  threatened it two days prior was just a coincidence, and ultimately a  fruitless one. 

So, in other words, I've held a grudge against Diamond all these years over an act that she's actually innocent of. That figures. 

“I'm sorry to be the one to tell you this, but I thought you should know,” Diamond tells me in a morose tone. 

I cast a long sigh, then look at her with a dim nod of appreciation. 

“So . . . if I didn't commit the act that you were so mad at me for . . . do you forgive me?” Diamond asks with desperate hope. 

At  first, I am meeting her gaze, then I look down, then turn my head  forward, gazing at nothing. I sigh again, then pick up the notepad to  write something on it. When I finish, I show it to her. 



::  On a rational level, I do, but on an emotional level I need a lot of  time. Despising you has been a core aspect of my personality for years. I  don't know who or what I am without it. I'll need time to adjust to  these new standards. 



Reading  that puts Diamond in a pained mood severe enough to put her to tears.  She looks from the notepad to me as she says, “If your objective was to  hurt me at the school through that confession, then consider your  mission accomplished. Not even my real mother . . . 

“Um, excuse me. Let me rephrase that. 

“Not even my birth mother hurt me as badly as you did on that day because you are someone I love and care about very deeply. I look up to you . . . so much! You didn't just help to save my life, you helped me to thrive! You helped me to truly live and I'm so grateful to you for that! I feel like I owe you a debt that I can never repay.” 

I  widen my eyes slightly when Diamond declares that, then look back at my  own notes that I wrote just a few minutes ago, specifically the line,  “I owe you so much, and YES, I know you feel like I don't owe you  anything, but that is not how I feel. I don't know if I will ever feel like I've settled my debt with you.” 

I set the notepad back on my table as I give a stunned blink over it. 

My God! It really is so eerie how many parallels my life has next to Diamond's. 

“Cozy,  I don't think I can live with myself knowing that you hate me!” Diamond  wails. “That pain is unbearable! I'll make it up to you! I swear! I'll  do anything you ask of me! Just please . . . please don't be mad at me! You mean too much to me for me to endure that.” 

I sigh again as I give her a tired look. I quickly realize how hollow all of  my former rage was against Diamond, especially if it turns out that  it's all based on a lie. If our situation was reversed, I don't want to  have to feel like owing someone else for a crime I didn't do! That's not fair. 

“Just tell me one thing, if you please,” Diamond begs me. “Was any of it true? By that, I mean how you felt about me? Was there even one moment where you were actually happy to be with me?” 

I  look at her with soft fondness, then nod yes. After that, I realize a  mere nod doesn't suffice, so I write a note down then pass it to her. 



::  Far more of it is true than I would have expected. I strategized to get  close to you both to try to find out your weaknesses and create more  weaknesses. Little did I realize that my plan would backfire by working  too well. 



“Oh  wow!” Diamond blinks at my notes with an impressed expression. She  sniffs a bit while wiping away tears, then says, “You have really good  handwriting, Cozy.” She smirks at me. “But I guess that's what I should  have expected from 'Little Miss Perfect'.” 

I smirk back at her, then write another note, showing it to her after that. 



::  I'm not perfect, but I have strived to be. Perhaps I have done so a lot  more than I should. That's something else I'll need to re-think about  my life. 



Diamond sniffs again, then looks at me hopefully as she asks, “And what about us? Can we ever get along again?” 

I nod. After that, I jot down another note before showing it to her. 



:: There is a very decent chance of that because I am highly motivated to do so. In fact, I feel like I owe you now. If you truly are innocent of the crime I held a grudge against you for after all of these years, then I owe you a severe apology. How about, from now on, we start over? 



Diamond lightly shrugs to this, then says, “I can live with that, but I thought there were good things about our relationship before. I don't want those things to start over too! Instead, I want to build on them.” 

I nod again, then jot another note. When I'm done, I show it to her. 



::  I concur, so let's agree to resume our relationship on more amicable  terms. I'll forgive you for past transgressions, real or imagined, if  you'll forgive me for mine. 



Diamond beams at me very enthusiastically as she declares brightly, “DEAL!” After all, this is exactly what she wanted. 

I flash her a genuine smile as I give her a thumbs up. 

“Thank you, Cozy!” Diamond tells me so gratefully that she's misty-eyed. “You don't know how much this means to me! I really, truly wish to be your friend! You're such an amazing person. I'd die inside if you thought of me as an enemy when all I want is the exact opposite.” She offers a hand to me as she proposes, “So how about it? Best friend sisters forever?” 

Best  friends? That's a little extreme of a jump, but I decide to humor her  for the moment. I take her hand and shake it enthusiastically with a  great big nod. That feels a little disingenuous to me but at least I can  say that's a noteworthy goal of mine so, in my mind, I shake her hand  in agreement to make an effort towards that goal. 

While shaking my hand, Diamond's smile shifts from grateful to coy. She says, “Speaking of looking up to you, I have a personal request.” 

Letting go of her hand, I use that same hand to gesture to her to proceed with her request. 

“I  don't have it with me now, but I was thinking that, after this visit is  concluded between us, I'd go back to our home and come back with a  chess set, but,” she holds up a hand to me, “I don't want another match  against you specifically. I know now that would not be fair, but I  feel like I could make a worthy student.” Her look shifts to pleading.  “I want to get good at the game someday so that I can eventually be a  worthy challenger for you. Also, there is the fact that I enjoy the game  too, so how about it? Will you teach me to become as good of a player  as you? Or, at least, better than I am now?” 

I think about it, but not for long. Soon I write down a note then show it to her. 



::  You got it! Bring me a chess set and I'll teach you what I know, but be  warned, I know a LOT, and it will take a lot for you to come close to  challenging me. Normally I'd charge a lot for this service, too, but you're part of the family now, and like I said, I do owe you. So, let’s just say that I’ll give you a special family discount. 



Diamond  flashes me a grateful smile before standing up and leaning towards me  in order to hug me, but the mobile table is in the way. Luckily, it is  mobile, so I simply slide it out of the way then lean forward in order  to hug her back. 

As  I do so, I feel an enormous weight lift off my chest. A weight that's  been there for so long that I no longer noticed it was there until it was lifted. 

Diamond  Tiara, my greatest nemesis . . . has not only turned into one of my  dearest friends, but also my very own sister. My life certainly has not gone as I planned. Instead, it's going far better than planned. I've had to learn a lot of painful lessons recently, but I can foresee a much better outcome in my future. 

My previous Tower lies in shambles. I'll have to rebuild it, and this time I will start with a much more stable foundation. 

And I won't rebuild it alone, either.
> Chapter Forty Seven: Hospital Visit Part 4, My Counterpart
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

I  place another card on the table, then sigh a bit as I glance up at the  dark-skinned policewoman watching over me in my room, although she is  not looking straight at me. It's clear to me, based on this woman's body  language, that she does not  want to be here. The only reason she's in here is to do her duty as an  officer to make sure I don't cause anyone else trouble and to make sure I  don't harm myself. 

This whole time that she's been here, however, there was only one full sentence she ever said to me. She said, “Heh. Ain't you that criminal kid with the big brain?” 

I  knew exactly what she meant, but that question still made me  uncomfortable. I felt nervous to admit the truth so, instead, I simply  shrugged. It was a neutral answer, after all. Not exactly a lie. 

In response, the policewoman gave me a huffy grunt, then never spoke with me since. 

Because of that response, despite her close proximity,  I feel terribly lonely. Even the game I am playing is called  “Solitaire,” which helps to remind me how alone I am in this room. 

I  could feel the policewoman judging me from across the room. She  probably regards me with disgust because, in her eyes, I could have been  an individual who had the potential to do enormous good in the world,  but instead I used it for selfish purposes. In her eyes, I think that  she thinks it's such a waste of great potential. Since she feels that  I've squandered my life, she equally pities me as well as feels  revolted. 

If  she's going to stand there and judge me like that, I wish she would  yell at me for it. That way, at least, I'd hear another human voice in  the room. It would be some little reminder that I'm not totally alone. 

But  . . . I guess I'm going to have to get used to this. People know what  I've done, so most will keep their distance now or keep their guard up  around me if they have to deal with me. 

A  pang of pain squeezes in my chest when I realize that. I can't say I  don't deserve it, but it still hurts to know how alone I'll likely  remain in the future. 

This policewoman is right. I am  human trash, but it would be hard to explain to every single person how  and why I ended up like this, so I guess I'll just have to get used to  being shunned. I don't know if I'll ever really get used to it, though.  It feels like being denied food, except it's nourishment that my soul needs. 

I  notice how intensely my excitement rises when I finally hear a knock on  the door. The level of brimming excitement I feel seems to resemble the  kind of excitement puppy dogs feel when their owners return. Right now I can't help it. I am starving for attention and worried I won't receive what I need. 

The door cracks ajar a bit as I hear my mother's voice ask from beyond, “Knock-knock. May I please come in?” 

When policewoman glances at me, she notices me nodding eagerly and giving a, “Come in,” non-verbal gesture with my hands. 

“I don't care,” the policewoman says back to my mother. “She's yo daughter anyway. Yo can come on in whenever you want to.” 

“Actually  . . . that's not exactly true,” Twilight says as she steps inside. I  notice that she does not have glasses on her face, and her hair is  straighter, which instantly allows me to deduce that this is actually Princess Twilight, not my mother. 

The policewoman regards Twilight with confused suspicion as she asks, “Yo mean this ain't really your daughter?” 

“Well, that too, but more to the point . . . I'm not her mother. I'm sort of more like her identical twin.” 

“Oh! I see,” the policewoman remarks in surprised realization. “Now that yo mention it, ah can see some differences, but yo resemblance to ‘er mother is indeed uncanny. 

“Regardless, yo family so yo can come on in whenever ya like.” The policewoman then thumbs out the exit and asks with a little hope in her voice, “Yo want me to step outside? Ah can do so as long as yo take ma place and watch her.” 

“Don't  worry! I'll keep an eye on her,” Twilight tells the policewoman  brightly. “Actually, both of us will.” She regards someone who is still  lingering outside my room and gestures for that person to come in. As  she does so, she says, “Come on in. Don't be shy.” 

Two visitors? This must be my lucky hour! 

I  know for a fact that the doctors in this hospital discouraged more than  one visitor at a time, even if they are just family, but something  tells me they don't care as much as they used to. I seem relatively  stable, so I think their policy on that decree is starting to get more lax as time goes on. 

I look out the exit of the door as I witness another visitor step in, then widen my eyes in shock. 

OH MY GOD! IT'S ME! It's the humanized version of pony me! 

Except . . . she's quite a bit younger. She looks to be about eight to twelve years old. 

The  policewoman regards this in surprise as well. She looks back and forth  between me and my counterpart, then says, “OH MY GOD! Is this a joke? Am  I on camera o’ somethin'? Am I in the 'Twilight Zone' 'ere?” 

Princess Twilight widens her eyes in surprise as she asks the policewoman, “The what zone, now?” 

“Yo neva' watched dat show? The 'Twilight Zone'?” the policewoman double checks. 

Princess Twilight shakes her head, then asks, “Is it any good?” 

The  policewoman shrugs as she says, “Eh, an oldie but a goodie. It has its  moments.” She looks at my pony counterpart again, then glances at me,  then back to my counterpart as she rubs the back of her neck while  saying, “Well dang, girl! Burn my britches if y'all ain't related. I ain't neva' seen any other two humans look more alike outside of identical twins . . . 'cept for the age gap. The fact dat yo resemble ‘er mother as well is truly uncanny!” 

“Well  golly!” my pony counterpart says as she strikes a cute pose for the  policewoman. “I guess I sure have one of those faces, huh?” 

“Oh, ain't ya just the sweetest little Sug'ah?” the policewoman beams at my counterpart. “Now you be a good little girl and don't follow in the footsteps of your little doppelganger, ya hear?” 

“Well  gee, Miss! I sure will try my awful best!” pony Cozy promises with an  enthusiastic swing of a fist across her chest level and a very familiar, wide, fake smile. 

“Now dares a good little girl!” the policewoman cheers. “Y'all have a good old time. I'll just be right out there in dem hallway, so call me if y'all need annathang.” 

“Right. We'll keep that in mind,” Princess Twilight promises. 

“We sure will indeedy!” my pony self promises in a bright, overly cutesy way. 

The policewoman exits and closes the door. At that point, Princess Twilight and my pony self turn to regard me again. While doing so, Twilight puts a hand on the left shoulder of my pony self. 

“I'm  sorry it took a while to arrange this meeting, but I wanted to prove to  you that I kept my word to you,” Twilight explains to me in a tone of  apology. “I have indeed freed your pony self from her stone prison and I wanted to show her to you so that you know that her future will be much brighter than her past was.” 

“Oh golly!” my pony self exclaims.  “She surely does look just like me, huh? Well, except for the 'being  human' stuff.” She presses her hands to her cheeks as she notes, “I  don't know how this species manages to get on by trotting on only two legs. It sure is a big mystery.” 

“They  manage it,” Twilight assures my pony self. “but I know what you mean.  It took me a little while to get used to it too, just like it did for you when you first came through.” 

In response, my pony self blushes bright red, feeling embarrassed at the reminder. 

“Something  else I want to inform you,” Princess Twilight goes on, but she's saying  it back to me again, “that I have officially adopted her as my very own  daughter in Equestria. Apparently her parent's situation is just as complicated as I feared, but,” Twilight shakes her head. “I'm sure I don't have to remind you  of that, and I don't want to get into too many details in fear of  rubbing it in. I'm sure both of you suffered through an awful tragedy,  so I want to do my best to make it better. 

“And yes,” Twilight raises a hand to forestall a rising question in my eyes, “this does mean that Tirek and Chrysalis are free as well. I assure you,  we are taking every precaution to make sure they don't get into trouble  again, but we also want to make sure they have a fair chance to be  rehabilitated.” 

Twilight shakes her head fiercely as she says, “I can't just allow their imprisonment in my gardens to serve  as a reminder of my failure to them. It's too cruel, which is why it  has always bothered me. I used to get nightmares about it, too. If you  don't believe me about that, you can ask Princess Luna.” 

I look at her in confusion. 

“Um,  Mother,” my pony self brings up as she tugs on her mother's skirt, “I  don't think she knows what you mean by that. Maybe that means Princess  Luna has a different role in this world? You did say that this world has less magic than ours does. 

“Huh.” My pony self looks around the room with an intrigued expression. “How ironic. I tried to drain all of the magic back in my  world at one time. It turns out that all I had to do was skip out into  another world that inherently lacked magic. That would have been fine.” 

“Well, that's true, but . . . then you wouldn't be a pony anymore, either,” Twilight reminds her new daughter. “If you had a choice, would you want to remain in this world, now that you are aware of it?” 

“Um . . .” my pony self considers that point, then shakes her head. “Nah-uh! I like being a cute and cuddly pony!” 

Actually, that makes two of us! Why won't you extend the same offer to me, Twilight, except in reverse? 

“Also, in my world, I am a pegasus,” my pony self goes on. “That means I can roam free high in the skies if I want to.” 

Dang it! My pony self is making me so jealous right now! I wonder if she's doing that on purpose just to be mean. 

“Plus, I got a sweet new mother who's a pony princess!” my pony self cheers  enthusiastically. “That means I get all the sweets and candy that I  want! I wouldn't trade that for anything else in all the worlds.” 

“Well,”  Twilight gains a droll look, “it is true that being royalty does have a  lot of perks, but you'll soon learn it has a large price tag on it as  well. Being a Princess of Equestria is a big responsibility. There are  so many creatures to take care of but, fortunately for me, I have a lot  of help to aid me in taking care of it, and I have lots of friends as  well. You could have all of that too, Cozy, if you just learn to let  others into your heart.” 

“I sure will try my hardest, Mother,” my pony self outright lies to her mother. I am virtually certain of it. 

“Now,”  my pony self goes on, “if you don't mind, I'd like to have a few  moments alone with my alternate self. I think I need that privacy with  her to have a true heart to heart talk with her.” 

In response, Twilight regards her daughter a little cautiously. 

“What's  the matter?” my pony self asks her mother with a slightly sneering,  taunting voice. “Don't you trust me? I thought my mother was supposed to  be the Princess of Friendship! That's what you tried to teach me back in the day when I attended your school.” 

“Trust is earned,  Cozy,” Twilight scolds her daughter a bit firmly, “and you have broken  that trust many times. Not only that, but you have also broken my  heart.” 

“Well gee, you caught me!” pony Cozy exasperates sarcastically as she puts her hands on her hips. “I was going to use that moment of privacy to open her window here and fly myself to freedom, but I guess you're too smart for me! Gee whiz, I can't pull a fast one over your eyes anymore, huh?” 

Twilight looks at my window thoughtfully, realizing her daughter kind of had a point with that one. 

“Both you and the cop woman will be right outside as well,” my pony self reminds her mother. “I'm not going to go anywhere, and I'm not going to try anything funny when I already have a sweet gig with you right now. I want  to return to my home in Equestria anyway, Twilight, so I have no motive  to betray your trust right now. I just want to say a few words to  someone whom I think might understand me, but I can only be that open in  privacy. That's all.” 

Twilight  sighs as she looks back at her daughter. “Well, alright, Cozy. I'll  give you this one. I'll give you another opportunity to earn my trust. Don't betray it, or I'll start getting more strict with you.” 

Looking between these two, I notice that they have considerably more tension between them compared to my mother and I. I guess the reason has much to do with their history between them. 

“Don't worry  about it!” pony Cozy assures with her bright, fake, happy smile. “I  won't try anything funny. I promise! Besides, why would I ever want to  hurt someone who looks almost as adorable as me?” 

Twilight  gives a pushing motion towards her daughter twice as she says, “Okay,  okay! You win. I'll just be right outside if you need me, and remember . . . only I have the means to return you to Equestria, and I'm not returning alone.” 

“Nor would I wish you too,” my pony self assures her mother then gives her a slightly impatient shoo-shoo motion. 

Princess  Twilight leaves shortly after, which leaves me alone with a disguised  filly who brought her world to its knees twice. For that, I equally  respect her as much as I secretly fear her. 

“Well, that was exhausting!” my pony self exclaims  irritably while still regarding the closed exit of the room.  “Friendship this and friendship that! Blah-blah-blah! She acts like it's  a crime that not every-pony's cutie mark represents friendship! I  suppose I shouldn't expect less from the Princess of Friendship, but  aren't you as sick of it as I am?” 

As she asks me that question, she turns to regard me. 

Honestly, I recall thinking words very similar  to this many times throughout my life, but I'm beginning to think of  this mindset as ignorant. There were plenty of reasons why I closed my  heart against trusting anyone else. I feared that if I let anyone else  into my heart again, like my birth parents, then they'd betray me too. 

Was that what happened to my pony self, I wonder? 

“Oh wow!” my pony self marvels as she draws closer while more carefully examining me from head to toe then back to my head. “You really are me, ain’tcha?  It's so cool to see myself from an outsider's perspective like this . .  . aside from examining myself in a mirror. The only difference is the  fact that you're older and far more 'human',” she uses finger quotes on  that word, “for my taste.” 

After  she uses finger quotes, she pauses to admire her own hands. She wiggles  each of her fingers then shakes both of her hands, then she giggles. 

“Well,  these are certainly neat,” my pony self says in amusement as she  regards her alien hands. “These certainly come in 'handy', don't they?”  She giggles again, then says, “Ah, but I still much prefer my own hooves  to these . . . things . . . as well as my own wings besides.” She then  regards me with false pity as she says, “Oh, you poor, pathetic copy of me. Stuck on the ground all of your life. Never knowing the joys of flying high through the air.” 

Well  . . . I don't know about that. I've ridden on a jet plane before, but  it probably doesn't feel the same. I wonder how pegasi handled the  chilly weather way up there, or the thinner oxygen . . . unless  Equestria has a different environmental system. 

Consulting  my memories as Sombra for a moment, his mind comes up blank on that  regard when it comes to environmental differences between our two  worlds. Whenever he flew, he did it in smoke form. That form didn't need  to breathe in the first place, especially when he was unable to take  physical form due to the loss of most of his magic. 

“I also heard that you can't talk anymore, huh?” my pony self checks as she leans forward towards me slightly. “Well golly . . . that  certainly sucks. I guess these people traumatized you so badly that  they scared you mute. That certainly isn't ideal, but don't you worry!”  She passes me an all too familiar fake smile as she pats my left hand.  “I have a plan that will eventually avenge us both! I'll make the others  of both of our worlds pay for what they did to us!” 

I raise my left eyebrow at her, suddenly feeling very alarmed. 

“These fools won't know what hit 'em!” my pony self promises  darkly as her facial expression twists into an evil smirk. “Sure, I'll  have to endure many painful lessons about 'friendship', 'tolerance' and  'forgiveness'. Blah-de-blah! All of that sickening stuff, but I'm still on the fast track to what really matters around here. These fools don't really know it yet, but friendship is power!”  She clenches both of her fists in front of her. “And these fools just  put me in a key position to gather more of it! I'm now the adopted  daughter of one of the most powerful mares in all of Equestria! From that strategic position, I'll accumulate all of my resources! Then . . . when I have gathered all of my resources and put them in key positions, I'll usurp my mother's crown and put it on myself! After that, I'll be the most powerful mare in all of Equestria, and others will have to bow to me!  I'll rule Equestria as the first Empress of Friendship, then nopony  will dare cross me again! Not even Chryssy or Lord Tirek! I'll be  unstoppable!” 

Wow! Was that really  what I once sounded like? No wonder I ended up attracting King Sombra's  attention. I truly didn't realize, until now, how much of a  megalomaniac I was as well. 

That's very interesting  to think about because this is a vivid reflection of who I used to be. I  thought so much like her when I was that age, but that's actually the point. I grew up . . . and she didn't.  She was trapped in stone that whole time, which leaves everything about  her stunted. Not only is her mindset and plans several years old  compared to me, but her emotional and physical maturity is as well. 

This  feels so eerie! It's like literally talking to my past self when I was  still a child. I used to be just like her, except I grew up and learned  some very harsh lessons since then. Precisely why evil plans like this just don't work. 

Even  if she does succeed, it will ultimately backfire on her. If she's  anything like me deep down, then she doesn't wish to be alone either.  That's her greatest fear, but her own path sets her up for isolation. If  she became an Empress like she says she will, then it only holds other  “lesser” creatures at a distance. A distance that will gradually hurt  her in ways she probably wouldn't fathom for quite some time. Instead,  she'd likely get worse by bitterly lashing out at everyone, determined  to find some excuse why this is anyone and everyone else's fault. A true  megalomaniac wouldn't examine themselves closely enough to realize that  their faults lie within. 

A  wave of pity and concern washes over me for my pony counterpart. I  don't want her to suffer the same lessons that I went through, nor do I  wish others to pay the price necessary for those lessons either. I've  got to warn her! 

For a moment, I pick up my pen and notepad, determined to write her a note in the hopes of getting  her to understand that the path she is leading is ultimately  self-destructive, but I widen my eyes as it occurs to me that, in all  likelihood, she won't be able to read anything other than Equestrian  script. Fortunately for me, I can read it, but unfortunately for us both . . . I never learned how to write  it! Sunny showed me how to read Equestrian script digitally, and I used  the same method to type out the text. At the time, I thought that was  enough because it allowed me the power to read her Equestrian text on  her stolen computer data. However, the exact pen strokes I would have to  make to handwrite out Equestrian script is unknown to me. 

For a moment, I consult Sombra's knowledge on how to do it, but there I run into another problem. He does know how to write out Equestrian script, but only by using the magic of his horn to manipulate a quill. Writing it out by hoof or by mouth, on the other hand, is something he doesn't know how to do, and he certainly doesn't know how to do it by hand. 

Oh my God! I can't communicate with this little filly! 

I  look at her with horrified astonishment. When I do so, I notice her  regarding me curiously with a tilt of her head. She notices the fact  that I reached for the pen and notepad. She continues to regard me  curiously, wondering what I'm going to do with it. 

Damn it! I can't use it to communicate to her, but at least I can get her to understand that as well. 

To  help explain to her what I was going to do with it, I show her the  notepad which has notes on it that I wrote for others prior. In this particular case, it's an answer to a question a nurse asked me earlier. 

“Um, gee whiz, I hate to break it to ya, but I can't read any of this,” pony Cozy tells me. 

I roll my eyes and nod in understanding. 

“Oh. I see,” my pony self realizes. “And you can't read or write in Equestrian script, huh?” 

Well, she's half  correct. The irony here is she might be able to write in Equestrian  script and I can read it, but there is no need for her to do so. She can  just speak to me. 

“Oh,  my poor, poor me!” She pats my hand affectionately. “But as I said,  don't worry! I'll make sure everyone else will pay and suffer for what  they did to us! I'll twist them in so much agony that they'll wish they  never even messed with us!” 

I grit my teeth. This is so frustrating to not be able to communicate with and warn her! I've got to do something, and I've got to do it now!  If I don't, I'll lose my chance to fix this later. She'll return to her  own world, way outside of my reach. After that, every problem that I  went through may simply repeat for her in her world. Next time the real  King Sombra may rise from the grave and take her over. Even by herself,  she can do considerable damage, especially considering how gullible I  suspect most of her fellow ponies are. 

Something  snaps in my mind. A flash idea and feeling that lingers within me from  Sombra, and something else I can't identify yet. 

Without really knowing what I'm doing or possessing a plan, I suddenly and tightly grab her tiny little arm. 

“Ow! Hey, watch it!” my younger pony self complains. 

I ignore her and just give her a very firm, fixed stare. When she notices it, her own eyes widen. She is freaked out by the intensity of my stare. 

But it does not stop there. Oh no! It gets much worse  for her! I don't really know how I do it, but I unleash King Sombra's  infamous Fear Curse upon her, except with a twist. Instead of showing  her what she fears, I show her what I fear instead. 

After  my eyes flash green, reality melts away for both of us. After that, my  life flashes before her eyes, especially the parts of it that had a  major impact on shaping the woman I've become today. 

She sees me growing up with my parents which include the good, neutral, bad, and really bad moments with them. 

She sees me growing up in the orphanage and all of the complicated, mostly negative feelings I had in there. 

She sees me growing up with my new adopted mother as well as all of her loving friends. 

She sees my bitter resentment towards Diamond Tiara and how it was all based on a lie. 

She sees my betrayal of Sunset Shimmer and how that ultimately destroyed me inside. 

She  sees how my actions led to my being sort of possessed by both King  Sombra and a splintered fragment of Sunset Shimmer, and ultimately the  fate of them both. 

My whole story flashes before her eyes. All of the ups and downs that made me who I am today. 

I  am Cozy Glow, just like her, but I have several extra years above and  beyond her. I grew up and she didn't while trapped in stone. I hope this  flash vision helps to close the important gap between us at least  enough to give her an enhanced perspective on her own life. I really  don't want her to suffer like I have, nor do I wish to run the risk of  her getting trapped into stone again. I went through a lot of hardship  that ultimately managed to convince her new mother to change her mind.  Not only do I wish for her not to ruin that precious chance, but I also  hope she'll allow that relationship to flower into something far more  beautiful, like the relationship I have with my own mother. 

Everything. I put everything  I am on the table between us. At least, everything I am as Cozy Glow. I  deliberately leave my newfound knowledge as Sombra out of this vision.  The years of my own knowledge alone are enough to crush her young mind. I don't need to add over a thousand years of a sinister tyrant on top of that. 

Then  reality restores back to normal somewhat gradually. I believe neither  of us are aware how much actual time passed in real life, but I have a  feeling the visions were passed to her in only a few seconds. I know it  feels much longer than that. Almost more like an eternity, or several  years at least. 

Her  eye pupils are now very tiny. She's staring at me in extreme shock. The  grip I have on her arm reveals to me that she is shivering with fright. 

I  inwardly sigh. I guess my tactic hurt her after all, but at least this  way the damage is confined to her mind alone. That's better than her  suffering emotionally, mentally, spiritually and  physically as well as spreading that damage to several others. It is a  very harsh lesson, but it had to be done. With any luck, I just detoured  her away from a very destructive path. 

I  slowly let go of her arm as I continue to stare hard into her eyes, but  my expression is softening a bit. The warning look remains on my face,  and I nod at her very emphatically, willing her to remember this lesson.  I know it's a very cruel lesson, but it might prevent something  significantly worse. 

My pony self is stunned. It almost looks as if her brain shut down. She's still standing, but she mentally isn't all there yet. 

Very  numbly and silently, she makes her way to the exit of my room in a  heavy daze. Her path to the door wobbles some, both because of the  mental shock she just suffered, and probably also because she's not  accustomed to human physiology. 

In  fact, considering all of that, I'm secretly impressed how well she's  holding her balance despite all of this. I know, from experience,  balancing one's self on four legs is easier than just two despite our  wider feet. 

She  still seems mostly empty when she reaches for the doorknob. I study her  carefully at this point, worried she won't be able to figure out how to  use that doorknob. As I continue to examine her, I discover, to my  relief, my fears are mysteriously unfounded. She manages to turn the  doorknob and open it just fine. 

Hmm. Maybe her new mother introduced this concept carefully. If so, that is wise planning on Princess Twilight's part. 

Before  leaving my room, she looks back to me one last time. By then, her  expression softened from being totally stunned to merely somber. She  says to me something I suspect I'll never forget. 

“You really do  understand me,” my pony counterpart announces morosely. After that, she  looks out the exit and proceeds out without another word or glance back  at me. 

I  sigh in relief as I lay back into my bed. I have a lot of mixed  feelings about the encounter. It was so uncomfortable, but also  fascinating, educational, and very likely of critical importance. 

Please  be well, my pony self. I want you to have a better life, from now on,  than either of us suffered before. I know our lives have taken many  tragic turns, but with a little help from our friends . . . I think  we'll experience a brighter future from now on.
> Chapter Forty Eight: Hospital Visit Part 5, Myself
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Alone . . . just as I have been for centuries. 

Brooding . . . just as I have in this dark cave since time immemorial. 

The only difference is, for once, it actually bothers me. 

I  used to be unchanging, just like all the dark crystals around me but,  for some reason, things are different now. I don't know why, but I am  experiencing a sense of loss. A sense that stems from the lack of  company from others. 

I  really don't know how I've come to this. For as long as I can remember,  the world is dark and cruel. I was simply doing what came naturally to  this world. 

Not  long ago, all the tribes of the pony races used to be bitterly cold to  each other. It was just the natural order of things. I've taken that  concept and applied the next logical step. By conquering Equestria, I  also bring order to it. That is so much better than everypony’s opinions being divided, for that only leads to bitterness and misery. 

They should thank me for submitting to my rulership. They don't know how cold and bitter things were before, but I  remember! I remember the bitter chill of the arctic winds. I remember  starving in the tiny huts, never certain when or if our next meal would  come in. I remember the greed of the earth pony tribes as they hoarded  all the food while the rest of us starved or froze to death. They didn't  care! 

Every  night I was plagued with nightmares. Every night I woke up feeling the  chill in my soul as well as my bones. Even back then, I learned that  those who do not become a monster are doomed to remain prey to them.  Only by conquering one's fears shall we be set free of them. 

As a young colt, I knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that things had to change or it would be the end for the entire pony race. I don't think any sentient race will replace us, either, not even the yaks. They may have thick hides and fur, but nothing can survive in a world that completely lacks any food. 

Back then, I did not know what daylight looked like. We were always surrounded by eternal night. That is why I grew determined to see in the dark. We had to, just to survive. Such was the nature of those awful times. 

Darkness in the sky . . . and darkness in our hearts. These are the things that were considered normal back in those days. 

But it was a blessing in disguise. From those hardships, I learned to become strong!  I gained the motive to become strong, and the means shortly followed.  In the darkness, there was enlightenment. I took those lessons and used them to forge my soul into a mighty weapon that could cow even the mightiest monstrosities! ALL have learned to fear my name! 

For  the longest time, that was my purpose in life. Fear and conquest . . .  those were the twin pillars of my existence, and crystal was the means  to bind them. 

That's all I ever needed before, so why is it not enough anymore? What changed? 

A  touch of innocence. A sense of being another person. That lingers in  the back of my mind yet, for some reason, I don't fear these changes.  Instead of that, I grow more afraid to remain as I am. 

Everything  I once cherished now feels empty and meaningless, and the odd thing is .  . . that was true all along. I just didn't notice until recently. 

From  my cloudy, smokey darkness, I grow a bloody, crimson horn. I use it to  summon but a fraction of my mighty power. In this case, it takes the  form of a reflective crystal. I also summon greenish, purple light  around me. I may be able to see in the darkness, but I require light to  see in color. 

I  examine my reflection as I steadily get closer to it. In the  reflection, I see the formless entity that I was for so many centuries.  Unchanging, yet changing all the time. This never bothered me before,  but for some reason I want more now. 

As  I float closer, I grow a bit surprised to see the details change. It's  as if my eyes are adjusting to the low light conditions. As my eyes  adjust, I can pick out greater details that I missed before. 

Over  time, I realize that I'm not as formless or incorporeal as I once  thought. Within that smoky darkness, there is form. A form of a stallion  I once was. 

The  details become clearer as I draw closer. I can see his dark gray hide.  My mane is a black, flickering flame all along the top of my head, down  my neck, and along my cheeks. My eyes are as crimson as my horn, but  there are black wisps trailing after my eyes. I am wearing a mighty  crown befitting a royal king such as myself. Along with that, I am  wearing a thick, red cloak with white fur trimmings along its edges. I  have metal armor along the front of my hooves. 

I grin wickedly at this image. This is a very imposing king! 

But  I wasn't always like this, was I? There was a time before this. I don't  often dwell on it, but today I am in a reminiscent mood. 

As  I stare at the reflection, I see the image change to match the  appearance I had before my rise to power. Back during the days when I  was just a humble scholar. 

The  crown on my head vanishes. My bloody crimson horn becomes a normal pony  horn. My mane ceases to flicker, instead becoming a simple black mane.  Sideburns trace along my cheeks and bottom jaw. The red cloak on my back  vanishes as well as the metal bracers on my forward hooves. Instead of  these, an old red scarf appears around my neck. 

Wow!  That takes me back. I remember that red scarf. It was given to me by my  mentor. It was enchanted with a spell that helped to keep the wearer's  whole body warm. The one who gave it to me claimed the scarf was filled  with the magic of love. 

For so long I cherished that scarf. It had such sentimental value to me . . . 

But  . . . I haven't thought of that in centuries. I really don't recall the  last time I realized how much that old scarf once mattered to me, or  why. It just hit me now. An old and forgotten memory I haven't dwelled  on in centuries. 

It takes me a moment to realize that this is not  really my reflection, for the actions of the reflection do not match my  own. For instance, he smiles at me as if in joy over the fact that I  finally remembered him, and myself. My true self before I encountered the corrupted crystals that had attempted to infect the Crystal Empire. 

In fact, I tried to save the Crystal Empire back then. It wasn't just my job, but it was something I wanted to do. I couldn't let it hurt the citizens I loved, especially the one who sang with such angelic music. 

YES! That's who it was! That was the music that shattered my Black Obelisk! It came from her, the one I used to cherish! How could I have forgotten that? 

As  I dwell on it, I realize that I have forgotten a lot of other memories  as well, but there is a pattern to them. I realize how I have forgotten  how to be calm or compassionate, or the fact of how much others used to matter to me. I had forgotten that the world isn't just filled with the guilty. Innocence filled the world as well. In fact, they were the vast majority of those I've known. 

I  helped to forge the Crystal Empire into what it was. I even helped  develop the Crystal Heart itself, but I couldn't do it alone. From the  research notes I gathered from Clover the Clever, I knew it needed the  enchantments of many warm and loving hearts. A whole society had to  gather to fill the Crystal with that warmth of heart. That's what gave  it so much power! 

How  could I have forgotten that? It used to mean so much to me! It was the  key and a symbol of hope. It allowed us to live in areas of Equestria  previously thought impossible to live in, and I helped to lead our people there. That, and the loving guidance of the Crystal Queen. 

Oh, how we once adored her! I was such a loyal vassal of hers. 

So much has changed. I can't believe how much has changed. 

And then . . . it changed again! 

The image of my old stallion self fades away, but not completely. In its place, a new form materializes. This new image is not  a stallion. She isn't even a pony entirely. Instead, she's some species  that stands upright on two legs. Her forward hooves are replaced with  hands. Her naked hide is replaced with a cute dress. The horn vanishes,  replaced with teal colored curly hair. Her eyes are reddish-brown, and  she has tiny white freckles on her cheeks. 

That's right. This  is Cozy Glow, the newest incarnation of me! She was raised as a girl on  a planet called earth, and there . . . she made many friends without  consciously realizing it. 

Ancient  habits are hard to break, but her life gave her plenty of incentive.  Her life wasn't all easy, but it is filled with a great many blessings,  too. She only needed to realize that to take full advantage of it. 

I lean forward and put my hands on the side of the mirror as I recall the fact that, yes, this is the new me. I am Cozy Glow now, and I shall remain so for the rest of my natural life. 

Wow!  She's still such a young girl. So much of her life is ahead of her. For  most of her life, she wasn't fully aware of that, but comparing herself  to Sombra's life affords a new perspective. Sombra was so ancient that  he literally forgot what it felt like to be young. He forgot what it was  like for the whole world to seem fresh and new, for the world to be  filled with wonder  . . . but vulnerability at the same time. He had forgotten what it was  like to look up to others and feel like they are really needed to help  guide him through a critical time period of his early foalhood. 

When  I think of all of this and everything I have been through, my life  feels special to me. So remarkable. So precious. I've come to this world  to experience what it's like to be a human and a girl. Everything I have learned reinforced how different this life is. It feels like a new world, and it truly is. 

New chances. New beginnings. New lessons. New relationships. New value to life. New everything! 

Life is so wonderful! I'm so happy to be alive! 

My  eyes refocus on the ghostly stallion that still overshadows my  reflection. I see him smile softly at me. It is the smile of a stallion  who bids me to have a wonderful and happy new life. 

As he fades away, his scarf lingers behind, this time tied to my neck. I grab it and hug it to my chest, at least the parts that are not already tied around my neck. 

He once valued this as one of his most sentimental treasures, and I remember that feeling. I remember the love he had for it because of how much he once cherished the one who gave this to him. 

My  life is filled with many treasures like this, too. I need to pay more  attention to that by letting those feelings fully into my heart. 

It's been tough sometimes, but I need to learn from those lessons in order to grow. 




* * * 



 


My eyes flutter open as they focus. Light beams upon my eyelids. I look to focus on the source of that light. 

Beyond my window, I see the sun cresting over the distant horizon. It is the sunrise that marks the beginning of a new dawn. 

While I gaze upon it, I recall, in my recent dream, how Sombra's early foalhood  was filled with nothing but bitter winter chill. He never knew what a  true sunrise looked like until late into his teenage years. 

But I grew up with it all my life. I never knew, until now, how wonderful and miraculous it truly was. 

As the light touches my face, warmth soothes my skin and lights up my soul. I, at last, appreciate the value of being so alive. 

A new day. A new dawn. The rise of new potential. Another blessing to a new and wonderful life. 

I've  never felt so happy just to be me! To be Cozy Glow. Being a girl on  earth is such a wonderful experience. It's also complicated, but I think  I value the challenge it brings deep down. 

I lift up  my right hand. I have my pointing finger touch my thumb and the rest of  my fingers behind my pointing finger. Through the hole in the center, I  lift it up until the sun is between that hole. It almost looks like I'm  holding up the sun. I am holding light between my fingers. 

After that, I place my hand in front of the sunlight. I watch and admire how my hand glows red. It's as if the light is within my hand. I feel it's radiant warmth, too. It pulses from my hand and ripples down my entire body. 

I smile softly as happy tears rise to my eyes. I feel so blessed just to be in this moment. 

I  feel the glow of love rise from the center of my chest. A love that  stems from appreciation just to be me, Cozy Glow, but also in  appreciation for others who have shared my new life with me. I think  about them all one by one and how much they mean to me. So many people .  . . so many blessings . . . and I've taken most of them for granted! 

Damn  it. That stops today. From now on, I am a new person. I'm not the same  Cozy Glow as I was a year ago, or a few weeks ago, or even just last  night. New purpose and feelings fill my heart to the brim. 

I realize, as I think about all of my many blessings, that it makes me happy . . . but not  proud because I don't feel like I've done anything to deserve them. The  blessings they gave me are not well earned. If anything, I deserve the  opposite, but they continue to shower me with affection and love. I am bothered by how uneven that feels. I have got to work at this. I have got to become as great of a blessing for them as they are for me. 

At  last I understand how being a piece of shit drives others away. If they  stubbornly cling on because of how much they love me, then that is their  choice and it's far better than I deserve. Ultimately, I don't want to  drive others away because I don't want to be alone! Not again! Not ever again! 

The  love that fills me causes me to be excited to repay my debts to the  ones I cherish. I feel eager to get started, to become a radiant  blessing to others. The more I do so, the more I might finally feel like  I deserve the blessings I have already received. I've got so much  catching up to do. 

Maybe this  is how my mother felt for all these years. Just this sense of  excitement to be a blessing to another. Her actions to spread love to me  stems from the level of need. It's probably similar to  the feeling of growing hunger from not eating food. The longer this  feeling builds in our system, the more painful it will feel by not  letting it out. 

That's how I feel right now. I want to shower my love to all my friends and family! I have to see them smile! I need to! 

Now I know how Pinkie Pie feels. 

Thousands  of strategies fill my head. One plan after another on how I can make  life feel as wonderful to others as I feel brimming in my heart right  now. Each idea cascades into the next and the next. Eventually I realize  how daunting it is. Man oh man, I've got so much to do! 

I  know that many people might be suspicious of my motives for quite some  time, and rightfully so I might add, but I won't let that stop me.  

I'm still the Red Rook. I'm still the strategist. The only thing that's changed is the overall goal of my strategies. 

My  formidable tower has collapsed all around me, but that is the very  thing that finally allows me to feel the sunlight on my face. It peeks  at me through the gray clouds up above and reminds me what is really important around here. Because of it, despite the destruction I feel all around me, I am finally at peace.
> Chapter Forty Nine: Hearth's Warming Birthday
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

I've had a trying time these past six weeks. Most of it involves talking to therapists, lawyers, and apologizing to so many people. Normally I wouldn't find this too difficult, but I've not been myself lately. With everything I've gone through, I don't feel particularly strong or brave. On the contrary, I've mostly been feeling embarrassed and ashamed. It really isn't easy to face others when they are mad at me and admit to them that I was wrong, but my guilt and love compels me to do so.

Most of the time, the reaction I get is more gentle than I expected, even when it came from the law.

One of the reasons I'm getting a more gentle sentence has to do with the insanity defense. I've got to admit, there is much validity in that. In these past few months, I have had hallucinations which include audio and visual. During that time, two alternate personalities attempted to drive me towards opposite actions. There is no telling how successful they were in influencing me. Not even my memories of Sombra gives me any definite feedback.

Speaking of which, his memories have been fading from my mind over these past several weeks. A large part of me expected that for logical reasons. Equestrian magic notwithstanding, it seems to me that the human mind is not designed to store over a thousand years worth of knowledge, especially to have so much of it downloaded in such a short amount of time. At first those memories were so vivid that it left me confused who my true identity was, but, as those memories faded, only my memories of Cozy Glow are left. As time went on, it felt more and more like a dream I had, or rather a nightmare.

For my part, I'm content to allow those memories to fade because those memories do not match who I am anymore. Perhaps I never was that person in the first place.

Sunset Shimmer went through a similar transition these past several weeks, but she seemed to be able to maintain her extra memories better. That alone was enough to ensure that not all that went through my head is just my imagination. For her to be able to recount in detail what happened to me while she was in jail, including many of my most private thoughts and feelings, demonstrates that something more occurred rather than just me going insane.

At first I thought that Sunset possessing extra memories of sharing her life with me would make our relationship together feel awkward and creepy, but instead, it turned out to be a comfort because I knew for sure that she truly understood me. I didn't need to explain myself to her anymore or express how sorry I am to her. She already knew all that without needing me to say a word, not that I could anyway. Instead, it was her that ended up explaining things to everyone else. I felt relieved to have this trustworthy and competent ally by my side. It sure made things easier when I don't feel so strong.

As time went on, things gradually returned to a semblance of normal. During most of that time, someone was always there to watch me just in case I had lingering suicidal thoughts. My sister, Diamond Tiara, kept an especially close eye on me. She didn't go as far as following me into the bathroom, but she knocked on the door to check on me if I was too quiet and alone for too long. Although I still couldn't speak, a knock on the wall sufficed to appease her concerns.

“Helloooooo! Earth to Cozy! Come in Cozy!” obnoxiously declares Scootaloo. I focus ahead and see Scootaloo right in front of me as she bends down a bit while waving her hands a few inches in front of my face to clear me of my reverie of the past few weeks.

Before I have a chance to respond, two more girls sit right beside me on the left and right end of the couch. Sweetie Belle sits to the right of me and Applebloom sits to my left. Both of them grab one of my arms facing towards each of them. Sweetie Belle additionally leans into me to give me a side hug.

“There is the birthday girl!” Sweetie Belle cheers.

“Wow! Ya turn’in eighteen today! Ya are officially an adult now!” Applebloom announces, also in a cheerful and “informative of the obvious” mood. “How does it feel?”

“Actually, she doesn't technically turn into a real adult until she turns twenty-one,” Scootaloo corrects as she moves to sit on the master armchair of the living room. “When she's old enough to properly drink legally, then she can call herself a proper adult!” Scootaloo said with a big thumbs up and wink towards us, me in particular.

By sitting on that armchair, she now has to regard me off to her left side.

“Well, she's old enough to vote now!” Sweetie Belle says brightly. “So . . . she's like a young adult now! She can also do all kinds of other stuff without adult permission anymore!”

“So y’all going to answer ma question?” Applebloom prompts me.

I would, but both of the girls flanking me are holding each side of my arms. I look at Applebloom as I give her an innocent shrug and wiggle my arms a bit for emphasis.

“Oh. Right. Sorry.” Applebloom releases me, followed shortly by Sweetie Belle. The latter girl continues to lean close to me, though.

I lift both of my hands and type on a virtual keyboard that I can only see because of my augmented reality glasses. Once I finish the message, I hit enter which sends the message to be spoken by a text-to-speech program on my cellphone. In this case, it is uploaded with a synthesized version of my own voice. Without the more advanced setting of the editing software on my computer, however, my voice comes out sounding somewhat robotic and monotone on my phone.

“Eighteen is just a number. One of many to come, most likely,” the synthesized version of my voice announces from my phone.

“Well, yeah, but . . . it's a number with many legal ramifications,” Scootaloo puts in.

“Yeah!” Sweetie Belle agrees. “It means you've lived on this earth and in this form for eighteen solid years. That's quite an achievement.”

“Achievement unlocked!” Scootaloo adds with a grin as she waves both hands in front of her in a dramatic pose. “Gained the title, 'Young Adult'.”

Eighteen years as Cozy Glow . . . wow. Not that I stop and think about it, my life has been really remarkable. I've gone through many ups and downs, but I believe things are starting to really pick up for me. Most of my blessings stem from my many wonderful friends and family, many of which are visiting my home right now. They've all gathered together to celebrate my birthday today and Hearth's Warming tomorrow.

“Excuse me,” puts in Silver Spoon as she peeks at us from the kitchen. Once she has our attention, she resumes. “Where are the hors d'oeuvres being served, and who is serving them?”

I raise my hands to type an answer, but the girls around me beat me to it.

“I know that my sister Rarity brought some,” Sweetie answers to Silver Spoon. “It should be on the kitchen table, but you'll have to serve yourself. On it, I know there are some cucumber sandwiches. There is also some cut celery and carrots. You can dip them in the ranch in the center of the pallet.”

“Self-service?” Silver Spoon reflects with a slight wince. “That's . . . quaint. But, eh,” she shrugs carelessly, “at least that means I can get what I want, when I want.

“Um,” she looks into the kitchen, “on the table you said?”

“Yeah,” Sweetie confirms. “It's actually pretty tall. You can't miss it. It looks like several wheels stacked on top of each other. Each wheel towards the top is smaller and smaller.”

“Oh, I think I see it!” Silver announces. “Thanks. I'll go ahead and collect some.”

Silver Spoon returns to the adjacent kitchen.

I look at my hands with a frown. I'm adapting, but it still feels a little painful not to be able to speak again. I cannot type messages fast enough to keep up with others who are talking, especially since I have OCD, which compels me to make sure my spelling and grammar is impeccable. That, however, slows me down considerably. Sometimes there are also digital lags.

“Let's see what your horoscope says,” Sweetie Belle spontaneously declares as she fishes out her cellphone. “Man, you're really lucky to be born on Hearth's Warming Eve! First you get to celebrate your birthday, and then you get to have Hearth's Warming the very next day! You get presents two days in a row! Pinkie must be so jealous of you.”

Actually, yeah. She has mentioned that to me before. As early as today, in fact. I think this is the sixth year in a row she's told me that. It almost feels like a tradition, but something tells me she forgot that she told me that each year for the past six years.

“Oh wow! So you're a Capricorn,” Sweetie realizes after she consults her phone. “Neat.” She shrugs. “I guess that makes sense.”

“Why?” Applebloom asks curiously as she leans forward in order to see Sweetie across the other end of my chest. “What does it say about them?”

“Ah . . .” Sweetie blinks in confusion, then regards Applebloom as she asks, “are you asking about Capricorns in general?”

Right after Sweetie asked that, K-9 happily came over to her and yaps at Sweetie hopefully. In response, Sweetie pats her lap invitingly to the robot dog. Promptly, the dog hops up to join her on her lap then gives pleasant moans as she absently pets it.

“Well . . .” Applebloom looks as if she is fishing for more specific information, but then changes her mind with an accepting shrug as she says, “Sure. I'd love to hear what it says about her, but I also wanted to know her fortune for the day.”

“Okay.” Sweetie looks back at her phone. She thumbs through it as she reads aloud, “'A Capricorn's greatest strength is their intelligence.'”

“Huh.” Scootaloo blinks. “I can definitely vouch for that.”

Sweetie pauses to make sure Scootaloo doesn't have anything further to add on that point, then looks back at her phone as she dictates on. “'They are detail-oriented and will not take no for an answer when they want something. Their hard-working attitude is an inspiration to all. They truly believe they can achieve anything with hard work. A Capricorn is always ready to learn new skills, and sees something they don’t know—like changing a tire or boiling the perfect egg—as a challenge they must undertake. This attitude makes them a master of all trades, and they have esoteric knowledge that is impressive to all who know them.'”

Sweetie pauses there as she scrolls down on her phone with her thumb. Meanwhile, we're all nodding in silent agreement.

“'Capricorn's weaknesses,'” Sweetie reads on. “'A Capricorn can be incredibly hard on themselves and just as hard on other people. They can hold grudges and hold other people in their lives to impossible standards.'”

“Oh my GOD, that is so true!” Scootaloo strongly agrees. “That fits Cozy to a T.”

“'Capricorns sometimes see one narrow way of doing something,'” Sweetie continues. “'and broadening their horizons and perspective can be incredibly helpful in giving them and others a break.

“'Horoscope for the day: Congratulations on being born on Hearth's Warming Eve. That surely is a lucky achievement worthy of Pinkie Pie's envy, as she's opt to remind you every single year.'”

“What?!” Scootaloo exclaims. “That's awfully specific.”

I snicker a bit because I already realize that Sweetie is just making this up at this point, but Scootaloo is still taking this seriously even though she's becoming more doubtful. I find that, more than what Sweetie is saying, privately amusing.

“'Do not take your friends for granted, for they are a treasure trove full of wisdom from which you may grow,'” Sweetie resumes, “'Be not afraid of new change, for big changes are coming your way, and it will be a good thing.'” She scrolls down further. “Ah . . . let's see. It says here, 'It is especially important that you listen to your friend Sweetie Belle, for she is the smartest friend you have besides your own mother and yourself. She is also known to crack occasional good humor, as this horoscope entry attests.'”

“Does it really say that?” Scootaloo asks doubtfully. “Let me see that!”

“Sure,” Sweetie casually invites as she stands up to pass her phone to Scootaloo, which disturbs and forces K-9 to hop off her lap. “It says it right here.”

Scootaloo sifts through the text, then widens her eyes in astonishment. “Oh my GOODNESS! It does say that!”

Applebloom joins me in our quiet snicker.

Scootaloo looks confused as she says, “Wait.” Evidently, she found something suspicious, then she looks at her friend Sweetie beside her as she accuses, “This is an e-mail that you sent to yourself!”

Sweetie Belle instantly bursts out laughing, unable to hold it in anymore.

“Ha-ha! Real funny!” Scootaloo says sarcastically with a roll of her eyes while handing Sweetie her phone back. “That was so funny I forgot to laugh.”

Examining her carefully, I notice that Scootaloo is, in fact, struggling to prevent a grin from reaching her face.

“Was any of that a real horoscope?” Applebloom asks Sweetie curiously as Sweetie sits back down on the couch beside me. During that time, Applebloom is still cracking up a bit.

“Ah . . . yes. The beginning parts were copy and pasted from online,” Sweetie answers more seriously.

We all simmer down as we watch Flurry Heart approach us, and me in particular. She approaches to stand in front of me and looks directly into my eyes. As she does so, I examine her chest and notice she is holding a stuffed doll of some kind of snail. I forgot what she called it, but it was some wacky infant-type name.

“Hi Flurry. How is my favorite cousin doing?” I ask through my phone after I type it up and send it.

She continues to examine me quietly for a few more seconds, then reaches forward to touch the center of my chest. She seems to pause for a moment as she inwardly examines something, then she smiles brightly up at me as she says, “Beh-ter.”

I smile at her warmly and lovingly as I type then send the message, “Yes, Flurry. I am feeling better, especially with you here to celebrate my birthday.”

After that, I bend down to scoop her up into my arms. I pull her up so she sits on my legs on top of my skirt. From behind her, I squeeze her warmly to my chest. As I do so, she giggles happily a bit.

I bend my head down to kiss the top of her head. That is when I notice that her hair smells really nice! It smells like lavender roses.

Oh! I love you so much, Flurry Heart! You smell nice, too.

An image of Sombra's memories flashes through my head. Within it, I see him holding the crying and terrified pony version of Flurry Heart when she was still an infant. In Sombra's mind, I notice him feeling smug because he knows he has a hostage that will cow any opponent that would dare to raise a hoof or horn against him. He felt like he had already won by capturing Flurry Heart alive.

Also, he was interested in Flurry Heart personally because he suspected she had an intimate connection with the Crystal Heart, hence the reason she was born an alicorn. He figured that, if he could corrupt her, then he could also corrupt the Crystal Heart itself. If that happened, it could be a more useful weapon for him rather than a threat against him.

Whoa! Wait! Flurry Heart was born an alicorn in the pony universe?

I double-check my memories as Sombra. Those memories confirm it. The pony version of my cousin does indeed have a pair of wings and a horn. Also, her head looks pretty large.

Oh wow! Even in the pony universe, my cousin is very special. It actually hurts my heart to recall her infant, pony self looking up at me with such misery and fear.

But this version of Flurry isn't doing that. She is sitting on my lap, cooing happily and loving the fact that she's being hugged by me.

“Ooo! I want a turn to hug her next!” Sweetie announces with jealousy.

“Okay! Where is the birthday girl?” Sunset Shimmer calls as she enters into the living room with searching eyes that quickly spots me. Behind her back, she is obviously trying to hide some kind of surprise. “Oh! There you are, Cozy! I have a surprise for you!”

Off the corner of her arm, I catch a glimpse of what she is hiding, and it makes my heart sink with shame. Apparently, behind Sunny's back, she is hiding the very magical laptop computer I planted false evidence against her on. Seeing it now renews the pain of my guilt.

Sunny sees the pain on my face. Because she also has the memories of her other self within me these past several moons, she also deduces why I grow depressed. This causes her to frown a bit as she also shakes her head in denial.

“No, Honey. You don't understand,” Sunset assures me. “Now I know what you are thinking and feeling right now, but trust me . . . this is a good surprise.”

She reveals her laptop in front of her while also opening up the lid. She triumphantly declares, “Tah-dah!” as she opens it.

On the screen, I see a rather crowded image of many of the pony versions of my friends and family.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!” they all cry out simultaneously. Right after declaring that, a “boom” sound and an explosion of party confetti showers down on top of them.

“Congratulations, Cozy!” the pony version of my mother tells me from within the video of the screen. “I've been told that you turned eighteen now, and that is a significant milestone for humans in your world.”

“Happy-happy birthday!” pony Pinkie Pie sings as she starts popping in and out around the screen, sometimes viewing through the screen from impossible, gravity-defying angles. I notice her wearing a pink party cone on her head during this time. “A fine birthday to you! Happy-happy birthday, a birthday song to you!” She then blows on a party favor which bursts out party confetti to the camera on her end . . . or is it a magic mirror?

“Congratulations there, Sugar Cube!” pony Applejack commends while barely visible at the bottom corner of Sunny's screen.

“What are you going to do now, Sport?” pony Rainbow Dash asks me curiously while flying in the background, facing towards the “camera”.

“Let us see! Let us see!” cries the voice of Sweetie Belle within the video which immediately captures the rapt attention of her human counterpart.

A bunch of ponies clear the way on their end. Enough so that a pretty adult-looking pony version of Sweetie Belle, Applebloom, and Scootaloo crowd the view of the screen from our end.

“Was that Sweetie Belle I heard in the video?” our Scootaloo asks curiously as she looks over her left shoulder at Sunny who is still standing between us.

Meanwhile Sunny is looking around for something, then asks, “Um . . . Cozy, where do you guys put that foldout table?”

I raise my hands to type a message, but human Applebloom beats me to it.

“I know where it is. It's behind the couch, right?” Applebloom gets up to check behind the couch. Sure enough, she finds what she seeks.

“Oh my gosh, Crusaders! Look!” exclaims pony Scootaloo on the screen. “It's the human versions of us!”

“This is so amazing!” human Sweetie exclaims beside me. “Why haven't we done this years ago?”

“Actually, I can answer that question,” Sunset mentions. “After you busted your mother's portal,” Sunset says with a slightly scolding look to me but quickly goes on in a brighter mood, “she went ahead to repair it, but made some additional improvements as well.”

“Plus, the magical link between our two worlds has shifted over time,” pony Twilight explains behind the Crusaders. “It used to be very weak until some of Equestria's magic leaked through into your world.”

“Which is why your mother and her counterpart worked to find and close those leaks,” Sunset lectures.

Meanwhile, the Cutie Mark Crusaders on both ends of the screen regard each other with brimming excitement, but they patiently wait their turn to speak.

During that time, human Applebloom set out the folding table. Sunset then moved to set the laptop on it facing towards us. After that, she moves to the couch and requests us to make room on it. In order to oblige her, Sweetie scoots away from me while Applebloom and I scoot further to our left. We don't make much room, but it's enough for Sunset to sit down and join us on the couch.

“Horsies!” Flurry Heart exclaims brightly while pointing at the computer screen then claps while giggling happily.

Seeing human Flurry Heart makes the pony version of the CMC’s head’s quake with excitement and cuteness overdose, but they still politely wait their turn to speak. Besides, what was being said kind of fascinated them.

“For the longest time, there was a time discrepancy between our worlds as well,” pony Twilight adds. “For instance, in our world, it is not your counterpart's birthday or even Hearth's Warming Eve, but she is here.”

“However, over time,” Sunset picks up, “our worlds slowly got in sync with each other.”

“Ooo! Is that why Princess Luna once said that if you stayed in the human world for longer than three days, you couldn't return for thirty moon cycles?” pony Sweetie asks pony Twilight. While she asks, the CMC's back off from their end and make room for Princess Twilight to join them, or rather stand behind them.

I notice that, despite the pony CMC's being an adult, Princess Twilight still towers over them enough to be seen.

“Exactly,” Princess Twilight confirms. “Back then, our two worlds were badly out of sync.”

“Which of our two worlds proceeded faster?” human Scootaloo asks.

“Theirs, obviously,” human Sweetie answers. “Look how much older our pony selves are.”

“That's true,” Sunset confirms. “Their world used to travel faster. It still does, but it's a lot closer now due to the magical leaks. However, because there still is a time discrepancy between our worlds, the link between our worlds won't remain strong enough to maintain this video connection for more than a few minutes a day.”

“Which is another reason why we didn't make this video communication before,” pony Twilight adds as if both she and Sunset are building their argument together. “Sending text messages is a lot simpler than sending full audio or video.”

“Believe it or not, even sending us through the portal is simpler,” Sunset says. “That is because sending people or objects through the portal crosses the threshold in one large burst of information. To have a video conference like this, however, means continuously transmitting data back and forth through the portal.”

“That, coupled with the time discrepancy previously made this feat impossible,” pony Twilight notes. “But things have changed over time, and we've also learned to calculate the time differentials between our two worlds.”

“Once we figured that out, we knew how to compensate for the differences,” Sunny put in.

Pony Twilight closes her eyes, sighs, shakes her head, then says, “That wasn't an easy thing to do because the time difference kept on changing.”

“We couldn't even figure out why,” Sunny adds. “We knew it had something to do with the magical leaks, but when we started to find and shut down those leaks, we figured that the time discrepancy between our worlds would grow again because we were shutting down those leaks.”

“But the precise opposite happened,” Twilight says. “That caught us by surprise.”

“It turned out that, as we shut down those leaks, the few that remained grew a stronger and stronger link,” Sunny informed us. She gestures to her computer. “Portals such as the ones your mother is using to access Equestria, and my computer is using to communicate with it.”

“I feel like you two are speaking a different language,” human Scootaloo complains.

“You said it,” her pony counterpart agrees. “I never learned to speak Egghead, even though I am a teacher now.”

“Really? You're a teacher?” human Scootaloo asks her pony self in surprise, then gestures to herself, “Is that what I'm supposed to be?”

“What?” pony Scootaloo looks taken aback, then says, “No! Of course not!

“Well, you can if you want to,” she amends, “but you don't have to follow my hoofsteps precisely. You are your own individual pony! You can do whatever you want.”

“Um, I think you meant, 'individual human', Scootaloo,” pony Applebloom corrects.

Pony Scootaloo waves a hoof off-screen as she says, “Whatever! She knows what I mean.”

“I think I do,” human Scootaloo agrees. “So what you are saying is, even though we look and kind of act alike, we each have our own destiny!”

“Exactly!” all three pony Cutie Mark Crusaders say simultaneously.

“Oh wow!” human Sweetie marvels. “You three do that with each other too?”

Pony Twilight clears her throat to regather attention, then continues with her lecture, “Anyway, the link between our two worlds has almost stabilized. The more the human world catches up to our speed, the slower it catches up. I calculate that our two worlds will be in perfect sync with each other in three-hundred and twenty-two years, seven months, three weeks, four days, seven hours, and fifty-three minutes in our world.”

“What, no seconds?” I sarcastically ask electronically.

“Well,” the pony version of my mother waves me off while rolling her eyes as she says, “I have to leave room for some variables!”

“Wow! Your manes look just like our hair!” human Sweetie marvels to their pony counterparts. “Do your tail colors match your manes as well?”

“Yeah!” pony Sweetie confirms, then offers, “Want to see?”

“Please do!” human Sweetie eagerly agrees.

Pony Sweetie steps back a bit, turns about, then waves her tail towards the screen.

“WAIT! Go back a bit!” human Scootaloo exclaims. “Can we see your cutie marks?”

“Sure thing!” all the pony Crusaders agree simultaneously. After that, they turn to their sides and proudly display their cutie marks.

“Oh wow!” human Applebloom exclaims. “Look, Crusaders! Their cutie marks are exactly like our club flag colors!”

“It was for us, too,” pony Applebloom agrees. “We also had the same colors when we formed our club.”

“Although . . . I am confused about something,” pony Scootaloo brings up with a confused expression. “Why would you three also call your club, 'The Cutie Mark Crusaders' when you don't get cutie marks in your world?”

“The funny thing is, these three called themselves that before Twilight even came to this world,” Sunset announces. “So they couldn't have based their decision off their knowledge of Equestria.”

“I don't know,” human Sweetie answers with a shrug. “We just sort of liked it. It had a nice ring to it.”

“What was the original purpose of the club if not to seek cutie marks?” pony Scootaloo queries further.

“Their friendship, of co'warse!” pony Applebloom declares as if that is obvious.

“Actually, my pony self is right,” human Applebloom agrees, then looks at her counterpart smugly as she adds, “Apple doesn't fall far from the tree, does it?”

“Hey! That's my line!” pony Applebloom playfully complains, then they both laugh together, shortly followed by all six CMC's, human and pony alike.

I have to admit, this is fascinating to watch! This feels like a psychological experiment gone wonderfully right.

“Hey, we should do this more often!” both versions of Sweetie Belle suggest simultaneously. After that, they blink at each other in surprise, then all the CMC's have another round of giggles.

These six really are on the same wavelength. It's almost as if they have a subconscious hive mind effect.

“Pardon me, but is that human Cozy Glow I hear?” a somewhat unfamiliar male voice speaks up until I compare it to Sombra's memories. When I check, I widen my eyes as I realize that voice belongs to a reality-warping entity known as Discord.

Sure enough, a very mixed up racial individual coils and spirals himself into existence after a brief white flash in front of Twilight and the pony CMC's. He has a deer antler on the right side on top of his head, a blue goat horn on the left, one long fang in his mouth, different-size eye pupils, a snake tongue, a goat beard, and white bushy eyebrows. He has the right arm of a lion, the left claw of an eagle, the right leg of a lizard, and the left leg of a goat. In addition, he has a bat's right wing, a pegasus' left wing, a horse's mane, and a dragon-like snake's tail with a white tail tuft. The shape of his body resembles that of a snake.

“Well hello there, birthday girl!” Discord greets me from the other side of the screen. “My-my! I finally get to meet the main character of the story here, and boy do I have a surprise for you!”

The human CMC's around me scream, startled, when Discord suddenly pushes himself through the computer screen and emerges into our world. As for me, I would have screamed if I wasn't mute.

Although Sunset does not scream, she does seem aghast and surprised.

“Happy birthday to you!” Discord cheers while floating in front of me in our world. He has the pose like he's laying on an invisible table. It reminds me of Cheshire Cat from Alice in Wonderland. He snaps his lion's paw. A flash of white light bursts six inches above that paw. A tiny red and green present falls into that same paw. The size of the present looks about correct to fit a wedding ring in. Once he has this, he offers it to me.

“Here you go!” he offers. “Open it.”

“Discord! What are you doing?!” Princes Twilight cries out behind him, still on the other side of the computer screen.

“Fulfilling a promise I made,” he answers. He gives a brief, narrow-eyed snide look back at the Princess as he asks, “Do you mind?”

His answer makes Princess Twilight very curious, so she asks, “Promise to who?”

“To the daughter of one of your favorite poets,” he answers back at Twilight. “You know, the one you received a mysterious letter from a few years ago.” He then regards me again. “Since I know you possess King Sombra's memories now, I ask you to recall a certain blue unicorn descendent of yours who challenged and defied you in your own cave. He ultimately destroyed your Black Obelisk along with the rest of his friends. Do you remember how he did that?”

Not as well as I used to, but I do.

To answer his question, I simply nod.

“Well,” Discord waves the present he's holding towards me back and forth, “that little red crystal was something he passed on to his daughter, and she also had herself a little joyride in a certain famous blue box which traveled through time and space. Incidentally, she also happens to be one of my dearest friends, and she asked me to pass this on to you after she created it.

“Go ahead.” He thrusts the present closer to me. “Open it.”

I feel stunned and bewildered, so I look at Sunset Shimmer for advice.

“Ah . . . I don't know too much about Discord other than what Twilight told me but, from what I gather, I think his presents will be harmless enough,” Sunset says with a thread of nervous uncertainty.

“He won't harm you,” Pony Twilight assures from the screen. “Otherwise Fluttershy will be mighty upset at him!” she adds as a critical reminder.

“Oh, don't you trust me, Twilight?” Discord teases as he flashes her a trollish grin, but he follows it up with a serious expression. “Of course, you do have a point. Don't worry so much.” He looks back at me with an expression so serious that I have a major gut feeling it's uncharacteristic of him. “I really am simply fulfilling a promise to a dear old friend of mine.”

As if to break the ice of tension in the room, Flurry Heart on my lap claps and laughs playfully then reaches out to Discord, presumably to give him a hug or something.

“Aww! Aren't you a cutie?” Discord smiles at human Flurry Heart, then snaps his eagle talon. He ends up creating a plushy version of himself. This toy he presents to Flurry Heart who eagerly accepts it.

When she investigates it, she notices that the toy has a pull string at the back. She pulls on it then lets the string go slack. As the cord winds back up into the plushy version of Discord, his voice announces, “Chaos . . . is a wonderful . . . wonderful thing!”

In response to that comment, Flurry Heart giggles and claps happily.

I sigh as I gather my courage, then reach to snatch the gift Discord is presenting to me. I bravely open the top, half expecting some explosive surprise to emerge from it. The wince and sharp intake of breath from Sunset beside me indicates she has similar expectations.

My eyes widen in recognition and a bit of horror as I behold what is in the present, for it appears to be none other than the very flash drive I used against Sunset Shimmer.

Flurry Heart pulls the string on her Discord plushy again, and it responds with the following comment, “Just so you know, Flurry Heart, I'll only respond to this string pulls one out of twenty number of times per day.” We hear the sound of a dice roll, then he announces, “Seventeen! Lucky you!”

I gaze up at Sunset in horror. In return, she is shaking her head as she says, “I have my crystal back. It's right here!” She reaches under her shirt and pulls out her magic red crystal which is attached to a string. “See? I pulled that flash drive apart and recovered my crystal several weeks ago. In fact, you should know this because I used it on you to help contact your memories, remember?”

“It may look like the same flash drive, but it's not,” Discord explains to us. He pauses as he looks at Flurry Heart when she pulls on the string of her new plush toy again.

“Shhh!” The toy shushes her. “You really should pay attention to what's going around you, Flurry Heart. This is important to your cousin.”

Although surprised at that response, Flurry Heart actually seems to understand. She looks up at Discord then nods at him cooperatively. She does this while hugging her new and old toy close to her chest.

“Atta girl!” Discord commends as he gives Flurry Heart an affectionate pat which she smiles happily at.

After that, he regards me again as he says, “As I was saying, although this flash drive looks like the one you used against Sunset Shimmer, it is not. It does, however, have a magic crystal in it as well, but it's not hers this time, my dear.” He presses his talon on my nose which oddly makes a squeaking sound, then says, “It's yours.”

I tilt my head at him curiously.

“Oh yes,” Discord confirms my non-verbal question. “The crystal within this flash drive was made using the Red Crystal which housed your original and true soul, or rather . . . King Sombra's. This crystal is basically a shard of that same Crystal, although this one isn't possessed by your original spirit. That one moved on to his proper rest.” He lays his elbows down in an apparently invisible surface and uses his claw/talon to hold up his head while he swishes his tail behind him casually and lazily. “So, basically, this crystal is attuned to you, my dear, just like Sunset's crystal is attuned to her. It's like your horn, basically.”

“Which means it has Equestrian magic!” Sunset realizes.

“Bingo!” Discord confirms as he glances at Sunset, then looks at me again. “This one also comes with instructions on how to use it, but I'll let her tell you how to make the first few steps.” He gestures to Sunset without looking at her as he says, “Go on, my dear. Be a teacher again.”

All the CMC's regard Sunset with excitement and delight. I regard her with a hopeful and attentive expression.

Sunset takes a deep intake of breath, holds it for a second, then releases it. After that, she tells me, “Well, the way Equestrian magic responds to a person depends largely on who they are. Equestrian magic has a light and dark side, just like the force. In your dream, you encountered what it felt like to channel dark magic. Did it appeal to you?”

I shake my head, then type out an elaboration then send it to my phone.

“I'll admit, Sombra's magic was very powerful, but it left me feeling empty and fake inside. I don't want to use that kind of magic again if it costs me my very soul.”

Sunset nods in understanding. She even seems to expect that answer, probably because of her own memories she gathered from within me, and/or her own experiences with tapping into dark magic. Then she tells me, “In that case, if you want to channel the alternative light magic, then grasp the flash drive between both of your hands.” I do so. “Close your eyes.” I do so. “Now . . . what I want you to do next is channel all of your feelings of love and friendship you feel about everyone you care about. Think of them in your mind and how much they mean to you, and especially focus on the feelings it evokes in your heart. Use that emotion as a guide. The magic should rise from the depths of your heart.”

I do so. As a result, loving warmth quickly fills up inside of me. This is the opposite feeling I had from King Sombra's experience. So much emotional depth fills me that, if anything, it makes me feel like I was fake before this experience and I'm finally learning what it feels like to be real.

As this feeling continues, the tingle of magic rises from within me. It spreads out from my chest and stretches to every inch of my skin. It fills me with pulsing warmth.

Flurry Heart grabs my hands that clasps the flash drive. That almost distracts me, but then I feel my feelings come into focus. It's as if she's somehow channeling my emotions and raising it to the surface in a powerful but also controlled way.

I realize I feel love and gratitude to her for her assistance. As soon as I feel that, I also feel the magic inside me become stronger. Flurry Heart's own emotions seems to hug me from within my soul. Doing so intensifies the magic even more. It fills me and shines out from within me.

Then, strangely, information rises up to my mind. Information that feels like it literally downloads into my brain. Information about how to use my new gift properly.

I quickly realize, with a start, that the instructions came from myself. My future self!

I get it now! I understand everything!

“You said that your friend traveled through space and time in a blue box,” I say to Discord through my phone again, but with three differences.

Number one, I did not type it this time. I channel my magic into my phone and bring out the message with technopathy. I realize, now, that I can use this crystal to communicate with and control any electronic machine up to a certain distance and type. The stronger my feelings of friendship and love are, the greater the range and power of that ability.

Number two, unlike before, I can use my power to put emotional inflection into my digital speech now. I can make it sound exactly the way I want. It's not exactly like getting my voice back with my throat, but it's close.

In some ways it's better because I can make any type of sound that I can imagine.

Number three, my magic has just recharged my cellphone and should indefinitely hold it up as long as the magic of friendship radiates inside me. While that type of magic can be conditional, it is also potentially unlimited.

“At first, I didn't understand why she would do this for me considering the fact that we've never met each other,” I continue to say using my phone. “But time travel is a factor, so the reason she did this for me is because we will meet! Am I correct in this assumption?”

“In a manner of speaking, yes,” Discord answers. “But in another context, it's already happened. You met each other in a splintered reality that was fractured. There, the two of you became good friends. To further augment that relationship, she created this crystal for you in the hopes that, one day, you two would meet for real in 'normal' reality.” Discord says while using finger quotes on the word “normal”, then goes on to say, “But who is to say what is reality anyway? In the end, we're all just fictional characters, so we might as well make it a good story.

“By the way, speaking of which, I put some information into that flash drive since it is technically capable of it. In it, I stored a whole bunch of my favorite fanfics based on this universe,” he gestures all around us, “the one I came from, and many others.” A trollish grin grows on his face as he adds, “One of those stories is actually focused on you, my dear.”

“It is?” I ask as I tilt my head at him.

“Oh yes! It's called, 'The Shadow Queen', and it's the most popular story your author has written so far, so,” He suddenly reaches forward to vigorously shake my right hand as he says, “Congratulations, my dear! You're popular! A great deal of people added your story to their favorites folder, and likely many will continue to do so.”

“Ah . . . thanks?” I say through my phone in confusion.

How does one respond to that? Am I thanking him for merely existing?

“Incidentally,” Discord goes on as he finally stops shaking my hand, “you're also the first of many experiments your author made. For example, you're the first My Little Pony story your author has written from start to finish that is fixed on a first-person perspective. As a result,” his trollish grin returns as he adds, “If you wish to talk to your readers, all you have to do is 'think' it!” He points to his head using both of the pointing fingers of his claw and talon. “Since your story is a first-person narrative, they are always inside your head!”

Oh my God! If he's right, I feel so creeped out and invaded right now.

Ah . . . hi . . . audience? Are you good? Reading a nice little story? Did you enjoy laughing at me and taunting me as I went through my struggles in life?

Um . . . you didn't follow me in the bathroom . . . did you? If so, you are sickos and you should be ashamed of yourselves.

Oh God! I really don't want to go down this rabbit hole, so I quickly store this information in the deep vault of my mind where I store things I can't handle.

For some reason Discord seems a bit disappointed in my reaction, but then he literally shrugs it off as he says, “Since this scene right now is the second to last chapter of that story, reading that story on that flash drive won't give you too much spoilers of your future, but there is a bit. Since that story never actually says if you read it before the last true chapter, I guess we can leave it as the headcanon of your readers to decide whether you do or not.”

“So . . . basically it's up to her,” Sunset figures.

“In a manner of speaking,” Discord partially agrees. “But like I said . . . we are all fictional characters to some degree, including the one who wrote this story and the ones who read it.” He flashes another teasing grin as he proposes, “So imagine the higher beings who wrote up your author or read that person's story.” He chuckles a bit, then adds, “Food for thought.”

Right after he says that, we visibly see a red apple appear beside him within a cloud-like thought bubble. He proceeds to reach for it, pull it out of the thought bubble, then takes a casual bite of it while continuing to give me a teasing grin.

“Anyway, tah-tah, my dear! Enjoy your new gift. In the meantime,” he rubs his paw and talon together as his face gets an expression filled with evil glee. During that time, the red apple disappears after he took only one bite of it. After that, he says, “I've got some delicious chaos to brew!”

He pops out of existence within a brilliant flash of light, leaving us all feeling stunned.

Seconds later, I feel a very tiny version of him appear next to my left ear, to which he whispers, “Oh, by the way, I do have the same voice actor as that other show you compared me to!”

Following that announcement, he vanishes again.

“Ah . . . yeah,” Princess Twilight breaks our stunned silence about twelve seconds later. “He does have that effect on a lot of ponies. You get used to it,” she droops her eyelids halfway as she adds drolly, “eventually.”

Sunset taps me on the lap to gather my attention. When she gets it, she asks, “I notice you're now speaking through your phone without typing anymore, and your voice on it sounds richer and possesses more emotional depth. Is that because of your new magic?”

I nod at her as I digitally explain through my phone, “Uh-huh. I can use it to commune with and control machines. I can also recharge them if they are not too big. Right now I can indefinitely hold up the charge on my cellphone, but for me to do the same thing to this whole house or entire town will require me to be filled with a lot more friendship magic.”

“I see,” Sunset notes with a deeply thoughtful expression.

“That's so cool!” human Sweetie Belle gasps in amazement. “Ooo, you're so lucky, Cozy!”

“You've got to admit, she went through a lot to get that kind of power,” Diamond Tiara says. We all look at her and notice she's now standing in the living room. Hell if any of us know how long she's been standing there. “I don't think you'd feel so jealous of her if you knew everything she went through to earn this prize.”

Scootaloo shrugs as she says, “Maybe not, but it's still awesome.”

“I'll help teach and guide you how to properly channel and use this power if you want me to,” Sunset offers me.

In response, I nod to her eagerly. Using magic was something I had always wanted in my life. It's the one component that always made me feel incomplete to lack.

If King Sombra really was my past life, then it makes sense why I always felt that way.

Sunset shakes her head slightly as she says, “I don't think you'll ever be able to channel enough power using your crystal to power the whole town for even a moment, but the Magic of Friendship is greatly multiplied with each person that joins that channel. In theory, if you ever had to pull off a trick like that, then that's how you do it.”

I nod as I say through my phone, “Intellectually, I think I understand. Experience, however, is another matter entirely.”

Sunset strongly agrees as she says, “I definitely agree with that. Experience is the best teacher. Without that, you do not really have true knowledge. All you really have is theories and beliefs.”

I nod at her in return. I completely agree and understand.

“Flurry! Where are you?” her mother, Cadence, calls from within the kitchen. “Please come here my Sweetie-kins.”

In response, Flurry Heart leaps off my lap. She turns around to give me one last great big hug, then runs off into the kitchen. I have a strong feeling that she's going to show off her new toy, and it definitely did not escape my notice that her new “toy” intelligently responded to its local situation.

As she departs, K-9 yaps at her then proceeds to follow Flurry into the kitchen.

“By the way, hey Twilight,” human Scootaloo calls to pony Twilight in Equestria through Sunny's computer, “why are you guys gathered right now? Is it just for Cozy's birthday on this side? You said it isn't her birthday on that side, nor is it Hearth's Warming Eve.”

“Which is a real bummer,” pony Pinkie Pie calls out somewhere in the background on their side.

“Um . . . can I take this one, Twilight?” asks another mare from their side of the screen. I can tell, from the sound of the voice, that she is Starlight Glimmer.

I feel Sunset nudge me. I look up at her as she tells me, “See? Starlight is alright. Everything you experienced in that nightmare never happened.”

I nod in agreement and relief, then look back at the screen as I see Starlight's approach to the screen.

“The truth is . . . I am the one that called this meeting,” Starlight Glimmer explains.

“Who are you?” Diamond asks Starlight.

Starlight looks slightly taken aback by that question. She answers that question with a question of her own. “You really haven't met me in the human world?”

“Come to think of it, no, we haven't!” Sunset realizes in astonishment. “We really should change that.”

Uh-oh! They're in for a shock when they learn what happened to human Starlight!

Starlight's ears droop as she mopes a bit when she hears that answer, then she says, “Well . . . that's depressing to hear . . . but at least you'll meet my human self soon if you keep your word.” Then she realizes something startling, and afterwards she gets a sheepish look as she warns, “Um . . . you might be in for a bit of a shock when you meet my human counterpart.”

“What do you mean?” Sunset asks Starlight in concern.

“Well,” Starlight rolls her eyes in a wide circle before saying, “let's just say that my history in Equestria wasn't exactly spotless. You don't have much magic in your world so I might turn out very different in your world, but I wanted to warn you to brace yourself just in case. I can assure you, if she's anything like the pony I was in my youth, she definitely could use the message of friendship, but it might take some convincing to get through to her at first.”

“Oh. I get it.” Sunset grins. “Well, lucky for your counterpart, I have plenty of experience redeeming others that have lost their way and need help finding the light within themselves.

“In fact, I was thinking of doing something like that in my world professionally.”

“What do you mean?” human Scootaloo asks Sunset curiously.

Sunset gives a great big sigh, then explains, “Back when I was in jail, I actually made a lot of friends who, like I was in my past, have lost their way. Not all of them regret what they have done, but of those that do . . . it's really hard for them to forgive themselves and move on with their life.

“As I watched them struggle, it reminded me of how I used to struggle with the same thing, so I was thinking of maybe returning to jail again, but this time under my terms . . . as a guidance counselor working with those who earnestly wish to redeem themselves.

“If I do this, they might get a lighter sentence in prison and come out the other side a much better person. Moreover, I can continue the relationships I've built while I was in there, for I have no intention of allowing the friendships I've made to die out. I want to make sure that they don't feel abandoned. I promised them that, and I fully meant it.”

“Good for you!” Starlight Glimmer cheers. “I was a Guidance Counselor too, many years ago at this school. This place was never a prison, but still . . . it's good and decent work. A lot of people need psychological guidance, and something tells me you have a lot of wisdom to share.”

“But . . . what about your old job?” human Scootaloo asks Sunset in a tone of rejection and regret.

Sunset shakes her head as she says, “Despite the fact I am clear of all charges, I don't think I'll be offered my old job back. I've lost a lot of trust in the eyes of the public. That would be a factor for the members of the School Board, and I don't want to put them in that kind of pressure. I suspect most of them would be sympathetic to me, but still . . . the situation remains quite awkward and uncomfortable. I don't want to make the situation worse by pressing this.

“Besides, I found my true calling while in jail. I've realized, since then, that many other people are out there who need help, just like I once did. I want to be there for them and prove that there is a better way to live. I want to prove that nobody has to be alone or miserable anymore. Instead, we can all be happy if we join together in friendship.”

“Wow!” Diamond marvels. “The way you talk about it . . . it sounds inspiring . . . but . . .”

“But we're going to miss you at Canterlot High,” human Sweetie admits sadly. “You are one of the best teachers our school ever had!”

“You can be its teachers once you graduate,” pony Scootaloo puts forward, “But like I said before, you can do whatever you want.”

Sunset Shimmer shakes her head as she states assuredly, “I made up my mind. I know what I have to do now. I know how I can fully and completely make up for my own past mistakes. The more I help other people recover from their own tragic past,” she says with a quick glance to me, then resumes speaking to everyone else, “the more I'll feel like I've earned all the blessings I've gained since then.”

Those words hit me very hard, which makes me reevaluate my own future too.

“Well, you certainly helped us out a lot,” Diamond tells Sunset warmly. “We are all grateful for all the lessons and blessings you've showered upon us, and I'm sure I speak for all of us when I say that we wish you well on your next journey.”

Sunset grins at Diamond as she says to her, “You say that like I'm going to die or stay in jail, but no. I won't be an actual prisoner next time. I'll simply work with them some of the time, but I'm coming back home after work every single day, so you'll all still see me around.”

“That's a relief to hear!” human Applebloom cheers.

Looking back at the computer screen, I finally notice that the pony versions of the CMC are no longer there. Maybe they got called away? It is a party over there, after all. It looks as crowded over there as it is here.

“Well . . . anyway . . . as I was saying,” Starlight brought up again, “I'm the one that called for this gathering. My friends accepted easily, although Rarity complained just a bit, primarily because of the short notice and the fact she's really busy.”

“Is the pony version of my sister into fashion too?” Sweetie Belle asks Starlight curiously.

“Oh, very much so,” Starlight strongly agrees. “But I digress.” Starlight looks at me as she says to me, “You are the real reason I've called this meeting. Everypony else has their own excuse, but you are mine.”

“You're not talking about my birthday, are you?” I realize. I widen my eyes as an epiphany occurs to me, then I ask her, “It's Cozy Glow, isn't it? I mean, my pony self. She's not been the same since she visited me, I take it?”

Starlight shakes her head sadly as she admits, “No, she's not.” Starlight glances behind her, then back at me as she says, “To tell you the truth, I feel that she's on the verge of a breakthrough. Previously she was cutesy and conniving, but now she's quiet and sullen. I don't know what you did or said to her, but she's never been the same since.

“To get to the point of the matter, I've called this meeting so that all of my friends can act as a support group. When I heard from Twilight that we'd also get an opportunity to communicate with you in your world, albeit temporarily, I realized that this is an opportunity that I needed to take full advantage of. For the most part, I just want to collect all the relevant information that I can, so can you shed some light on what you did to her?”

I notice how everyone in the room is now looking at me in addition to Starlight in the pony world.

“I gave her a warning,” I tell Starlight. “I showed her what my life was like and the consequences if she remains on her destructive path. Based on what you are telling me, it sounds like I've really gotten through to her.”

“Not just her, actually,” Starlight corrects. “Tirek has changed too.”

“Oh?” I ask, feeling intrigued.

“He's also grown withdrawn and forlorn,” Starlight elaborates. “The thing is, despite the fact that this is almost normal for him in this kind of setting,” she gestures around her room with a hoof, but I have a feeling she is actually referring to the pony party in their world. “I get the feeling that the reason he's changed is because of Cozy,” Starlight explains. “He noticed the fact that she changed, and I sense that bothers him.”

Starlight grows a thin but hopeful smile as she says, “I hope that means that he cares for the little filly, and there is some evidence to suggest that he might.

“You see, in my world, the entire reason Cozy Glow was able to threaten my world with the loss of magic is because of the advice that Tirek gave her, but that means that he responded to somepony. Despite the end results, that's actually an encouraging sign for his emotional development. It's also a bit surprising. He used to hate all ponies.

“Then, during the time she got incarcerated in Tartarus, Cozy Glow was his adjacent cellmate. I didn't know that until recently, because I wasn't the one who sent them there.

“After that, they worked closely as partners while they worked to take over Equestria. The thing is, even if they worked towards an evil agenda, they still did it as partners, and that develops a camaraderie between them which I think we can build upon.

“Now,” she lifts a hoof towards the screen as she adds, “I'm pretty sure if I asked either one of them if this is true, they'd both deny it, but I suspect it's true nonetheless.”

“You said Tirek has changed, but what about Chrysalis?” Sunset checks with Starlight. “Is there any reaction from her?”

Starlight's ears droop as she gains a very droll look while she says, “For a changeling, Chrysalis is the most stubborn of the three to resist change. Even now she's ranting and raving about how we're torturing her with this party and the fact that she'd rather be turned back into stone. I don't think she really means it, but she's making her displeasure as clear as possible. She's also talking about being a Queen and revenge and grand plans. Blah-blah-blah. 'I'll get you one day, Starlight Glimmer!' The whole shebang.”

Sunset sighs as she shakes her head, then advises, “Just be patient with her. You can't force her to want to change, but you can encourage it by being kind and patient.”

“I know,” Starlight agrees with a roll of her eyes. “But, frankly, she gets on my nerves sometimes. Maybe it's the fact that she just might mean some of the nasty things she says. Despite her anti-magic collar, she honestly does make me a little nervous. I know she's just trying to get into my head like she always does. I hate to admit it, but . . . it's kind of working.”

“If you need help with her, there is plenty you can reach for,” Sunset suggests.

Starlight smiles a bit as she says, “I know, and that thought does help because I know I have a lot of friends. That's very reassuring.”

Starlight looks at me squarely as she asks, “In the meantime, I was hoping you can offer me some advice on how to hoofle your alternate self. In all likelihood, very few know her better than you do. Now I know you come from another world and you have a whole different background, but any advice you can give me might be helpful.”

Once again, everyone in the room, and a few beyond, regard me.

I look down as I gather my thoughts for about thirty seconds in silence, then I look up at Starlight as I answer, “Shower her with love. She'll see you as a sucker for it for quite a while, but eventually it will occur to her that she'll feel guilty to double-cross you after all that you've given her. She is going to lie, cheat and steal as much as she can get away with, but through it all, . . . always be there for her. She needs you . . . significantly more than she knows. For all her ambitions, it does not remove one very core fact. Deep down, she is terrified of being alone.”

“Aren't we all?” Scootaloo agrees somewhat sadly.

“I second that,” Diamond quickly agrees.

“Me three,” Sweetie Belle chimes in.

“Frankly, I don't really know what it's like to be alone,” Applebloom admits. “My family was always there for me when I needed them. In addition, I have my friends on top of that.

“But the prospect of being alone . . . yeah, that scares me, too. Wherever I go and whatever I do, I want to always do it surrounded by my dear and wonderful family and friends.”

“That's something important to keep in mind, then,” I say emphatically to Starlight. “Cozy Glow is no exception. She might try to abuse you, but in the end . . . she needs you, so you have some leverage over her.

“In addition, I've shown her what doesn't work in life personally. You can build off of that. Right now I think she's just scared because she feels insecure, but if she learns that she can keep running to you to find her security then . . .”

“We'd eventually earn her loyalty for real,” Starlight realizes.

I shake my head as I say, “Not just her loyalty, but that too. More importantly, if you earn her love, she will defend you no matter what obstacle is placed in front of her. Part of her blind ambitions means she holds onto whatever is very dear to her heart. If you become one of those things, then you are an equation she'll consider inseparable from herself. I warn you that she might try converting you to the darkside if she senses an opening for that, for it is more familiar territory for her, but stick to your guns and give her time.”

“Ah . . . guns?” Starlight asks.

“Remain determined on the mission,” Sunset clarifies.

“Ah!” Starlight nods. “Gotcha.

“Thanks, Cozy Glow! That was very helpful!”

“I just hope it helps,” I say sincerely. “I don't want her to suffer through the same lessons that I went through.”

“Well, she had her own fair share of tragedies herself,” Starlight admits sadly.

I nod in agreement as I respond, “All the more reason for us to learn from our lessons. The point of life is to grow and get better. We do that by moving forward in life, not backwards.”

“I'll keep what you said in mind, and I'll do my best to get through to her. I promise,” Starlight said sincerely, then brightens cheerfully as I sense she's about to change the subject drastically. “In the meantime, enjoy your own party! I wish you a happy birthday, Cozy, and I'd like to add that Twilight was right about you. Your mother did a wonderful job raising you. I'll use that as an example of how we should approach your pony self.”

I blink as I nod while I have my phone say, “You're very welcome, Starlight. I'm glad we have a chance to repair our relationship with each other, too. I'm really not the same girl you met last time. I've gone through a lot of painful stuff since then, and I've done a lot of growing up accordingly.”

“Well,” Starlight shrugs lightly, “age is just a number. What's more important is the quality of your life. Sounds to me like yours had a rocky start, but your future is looking up.”

“It will be if I make it so,” I assure her. “And I will make it so. I have more than enough incentive to ensure that.”

The image of Starlight phases out for a moment then focuses again. She looks confused as she asks, “What happened?”

“Time is getting out of sync again,” Sunset explains. “Twilight and I have compensated for this some, and as our worlds get more in sync, this should happen less but, for now, the video link between us should cut off soon. We can keep texting each other, but I'm afraid the video and audio link will soon terminate.”

Starlight waves us off as she says, “Well, that's okay. I've addressed the most important issues that I had in mind. You all have a wonderful time out there, and we should do it again sometime.”

“Call back soon!” the human CMC's say simultaneously.

Starlight giggles because of their reaction before fading further out for a moment before coming back into focus, but not as clearly as before.

Sunset gets up to approach her computer. She reaches up to grab the top of the computer lid. Before she shuts it, she bids, “Wish everyone there goodbye for us. I hope your mission goes well.”

“Yeah. You too,” Starlight returns.

Sunset shuts the lid.

“Oh wow!” Sweetie Belle squirms in a giddy way. “Our pony selves were so adorable!”

“Yeah.” Applebloom agrees. “I wish we could get a plushy version of ourselves.”

“Or exchange it between ourselves,” Scootaloo refines the suggestion.

“Is my pony self doing alright in Equestria?” Diamond asks Sunset directly.

“That depends.” Sunset regards Diamond as she asks her, “Would you consider being the Mayor of Ponyville doing alright?”

“Ah . . . probably,” Diamond says with only a little bit of uncertainty. “Based on what I've heard, Ponyville is a very nice place.”

“Actually, most of Equestria is,” Sunset corrects. “Of the places within that land, Ponyville does stand as one of the friendliest towns.

“Listen. I can write letters to any of your pony selves if you want me to,” Sunset offers. “Just write me an e-mail on what you want to write to them. In return, I'll make sure they get the message. I'll even let you know if they respond.”

Sweetie shrugs as she says, “Well, it's nice and all to get a peek at our alternate selves from another universe, but I consider it more important to make this one as pleasant as possible.”

“What better way to do that than in the company of our friends?” Diamond asks pleasantly. “Speaking of which, Sis,” I look at her, “your birthday cake is just about ready. That is why I've come. I did it to fetch you.”

“Sure.” I get up from the couch. “Let's all get some cake.” I peer at Diamond carefully as I ask, “By the way, what kind of cake?”

“You've made yourself abundantly clear to Pinkie,” my sister assures me. “It's strawberry cheesecake.” Diamond looks off to the kitchen to her left. “However, for those with more finicky diets, alternatives are offered on the kitchen table.” She smiles as she looks back at me. “My father, for example, is bragging about how much he makes a mean cup of chili. He's very eager for you to try some.”

I smile at her brightly as I tell her honestly, “I can't wait!”
> Chapter Fifty: Curtain Call
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

I remember the time I went into the kitchen. Most of my friends and family gathered around my birthday cake. They sang and clapped all around me. I felt surrounded by love and affection.

As I gazed around at each of their faces, I could not help but wonder how I missed this so many times before. My life was blessed with abundance and I didn't even realize it because I was too busy scheming against others.

But when I gazed upon my birthday cake, I thought of my pony self and how Sunset recently told me, before then, that my pony self briefly became an alicorn by stealing the magic of something called Grogar's Bell. That power boost gave her an artificial ascension.

But, since then, we've both been through a lot. We both learned a lot and experienced a lot. Between us, experience favors me because I was more active all of these years while she was frozen in stone.

What Starlight recently said to me before I went into the kitchen gave me hope that I might have gotten through to the little filly, at least enough to open her eyes to new possibilities. However, after her eyes are more open, what she sees depends on what others show her. I gave them a chance to truly and deeply affect her. The rest is up to them.

If my counterpart's friends and family are anything like my own, however, I don't have much to worry about. She'll be in good “hooves”.

Then, the next time she ascends back to alicorn status, she'll have truly earned it.

That's comforting to think about, but also mind-boggling. If my counterpart becomes an alicorn again, only this time under far more positive circumstances, then she'll effectively become immortal. If that happens, the lessons I gave her will endure potentially forever.

In other words, my life experiences will endure ever onward through her. That, in turn, could be used to improve the lives of endless generations of citizens of Equestria.

So that is the power of just one short lifetime of less than eighteen years. The feelings and experiences gained from it could help countless strangers ever onwards.

As for me, my memories and experiences of King Sombra, faded though they may be, taught me enough about immortality to know that it has become a “been there, done that” sort of deal for me. I'm tired of feeling old. Now I just want one short but sweet lifetime as a human girl who is blessed with an abundance of friends and friendship. I want to live a lifetime chock-full of all the deeper meanings most of my previous life almost entirely lacked.

I'm more than content. I'm downright happy, but I could not have done this alone.

My friends . . . the feelings they evoke inside me fills me with magic and fulfillment. By hugging them close to me, I've never felt so alive.

So I take those feelings and channel it into my music. I play my violin with a sweet-sounding melody that swims through the air. As I do so, I channel all the feelings my friends evoke inside me, as well as the feelings they are actively sending at me right now as they watch me and cheer me on among the audience.

I hear a gasp as the magic visibly swirls around me, but I don't let it distract me. I maintain my focus on that feeling, allowing it to carry me to soar to greater and greater emotional heights.

I twirl on the stage as the music and magic transforms me. My ears grow longer and larger, much like a pony's. My outfit transforms into a brilliant red dress seemingly made of rose petals, and wings sprout from my back.

I continue to twirl as I play my music. While I do so, I lift steadily further into the air. I am flying, but that feels like a mere side effect to the intense emotions within me that carries me aloft. It's as if my soul feels so light that it's lifting my body off the ground.

The gasps of the audience rise to sheer, astonished awe, but I keep on playing. I even incorporate their feelings into my music in order to lift my emotions even further, and therefore also my magic, to greater heights.

So much time I've wasted on the wrong track. So many years spent in lies and deceit. I fooled myself just as much, if not more so, than I did to anyone else.

But no longer! I am a girl reborn. I am a woman who is on a path to redemption. I'm probably not there yet, and I don't know for sure if I ever will make up for all of my mistakes, but I do know for sure that I'll devote a lifetime in pursuit of that goal if I have to.

I cannot help it. My gratitude towards all my friends, coupled with the shame of how I once treated them, compels me to become a light. I am determined to become a greater blessing than I ever was a curse to this world, and I will use all my talents and lessons to fortify myself for that journey.

I will let the rainbow shine through me and reflect in every person I meet. That is not just a duty for me now, it's a privilege. I want to do this. From now on, a great deal of my happiness will be derived by causing happiness to others. As we all collect together in friendship, we enhance the quality of life on this great big blue ball we live on.

My final note of my song lingers for a long while as it carries through the room.

Then silence.

I lower my violin and open my eyes again. I gaze upon the audience below me while floating about fifteen feet off the stage. While I do so, a radiant red light shines around me. Because of it, for once, I can actually see the faces of my stunned audience.

These are the same faces that once stared at me with contempt not long ago. That focused and combined hostility almost shattered my confidence, which I admit has been rather thin lately because I'm still mentally recovering from my recent ordeals.

Still, despite the great challenge involved, I knew I had to do this. I had to put myself out there and expose everything that I was, am, and will become. I'm done with lies. I want everyone to see the absolute genuine me. I didn't do this just because I felt they deserved to know the truth, but also because I want to be truly known for who I am. The more I do that, the more I discover the truth about myself as well.

I am a former villain striving to become a better person.

I am someone who was a misguided human being and learning to adapt to the truth.

I am a woman who is having a human experience on earth.

I am the daughter of the most wonderful mother in the entire world.

I am the sister of someone who used to be my greatest nemesis until I learned how much we had in common.

I am someone who used to have a seemingly endless experience as an empty shadow in another world, but now must adapt to a lifetime of real emotions and meaning.

I am the main character to a fanfic called “The Shadow Queen,” apparently.

I am ready to undertake a greater journey of becoming a brilliant rainbow light to illuminate the souls of all who behold me.

I am someone who is filled with love, magic, and abundance.

I am someone who will tirelessly work all of my life to earn the great blessings I have received.

I am Cozy Glow.

I am!

. . .

. . .

All at once, the audience rises from their seats with a thunderous applause. Not only have they enjoyed my performance, but perhaps more importantly, they seem to have forgiven me for my past transgressions. I think it's because they recognize what type of magic which radiates out from me. It is a very strong and sincere sign of someone making a genuine effort to become a better person, and perhaps I already have succeeded far more than I think.

Despite the evidence in front of me, part of me finds this difficult to accept. They hated me so much before, and now they look upon me with awe and admiration?

Maybe I haven't completely lost my old touch, after all. I used to be very good at influencing a crowd. Perhaps that talent is continuing in another form.

I don't really care anymore if I'm a leader or a follower. I just want a better life for me and all of my friends. If it is my destiny to become a leader again, however, like a certain pony princess, then I will do everything in my power to lead my followers to a life of happiness, abundance, and friendship. I want everyone to experience how blessed I am by having a wonderful life themselves.

Scanning the audience more carefully, I notice all of my friends and family in there too. There is Pinkie Pie, Applejack, Fluttershy, Rainbow Dash, Rarity, Sunset Shimmer, my mother, my sister, Silver Spoon, Applebloom, Scootaloo, Sweetie Belle, Big Mac, Hondo Flanks, Cookie Crumbles, Mr. and Mrs. Cake, Cadence, Shining Armor, Flurry Heart, Twilight Velvet, Night Light, Filthy Rich, Randolph, and yeah . . . even Button Mash.

It's still very difficult to accept how well my life turned out considering that I've been on the wrong track for so very long and so badly. I don't know how or why I've ended up with so many wonderful friends and family, but I do know that I will work to earn it.

Many more might become my friend too someday. I welcome that.

My face flushes crimson due to the overwhelming affection I feel overflowing from my heart.

I close my eyes, bow my head, and curtsy to my audience as I continue to float magically in the air.

If anyone is still reading my story, as Discord once suggested, then please allow this final curtain call of my story to fill your heart with love, abundance, and meaning. Learn from my experience, and let the rainbow of friendship ever shine in your hearts as well.

The End