ReAwakened

Chapter 1

Three young alicorns sat around a campfire, their parents having already retired to their tents. The cool night air rustled the flames of the fire, giving the impression that it was dancing. Two of them watched the third, who gestured his hooves as he spoke.

The somewhat younger, white-coated alicorn watched the storyteller, wide-eyed with wonder. “Isn’t this great, Design? Wildheart’s stories are always so exciting!” She whispered to the young stallion next to her. His eyebrows furrowed and his mouth drew into a thin line. As the storyteller’s voice raised in excitement, he winced and rolled his eyes.

“...And so they say Princess Celestia and Princess Twilight are out there now, working with the rebels until they’re strong enough to take to the field of battle, and reclaim Equestria for themselves!” He emphasized his point by stomping his hooves into the ground, dust flying to cover his already mussed, pink coat.

“That’s a stupid story, Wildheart.” Design said, earning a glare.

“Oh yeah?” Wildheart replied and turned to the mare, “You believe me, don’t you Surprise?”

She giggled. “Oh, it was a very good story, but everypony knows what really happened. Right, Design?”

“How could anypony not?” Design replied as he raised an eyebrow.

Wilheart opened his mouth to protest, but his words caught in his throat. After a few moments he said, “Fine, why don’t you tell the story?” With that he flopped to the ground, crossed his hooves, and stuck out his lower lip.

“You know what? I think I will,” the Design said, sitting up, “In the dark of night, nearly a thousand years ago, Chrysalis and Sombra staged the most ambitious coup in Equestrian history. The false Princess Celestia fought tooth and nail against the drones and soldiers, bringing many an enemy to their knees before numbers finally overwhelmed them. The coward, Twilight Sparkle, ran in fear for her life, rather than stand and fight in the defence of her crown. But she didn’t make it far before she was captured by Queen Chrysalis.

“Sombra and Chrysalis brought the princesses to kneel before our mistress. He ripped away their power. He took their wings, their horns, their strength, and distributed it equally to every Earth Pony, unicorn, and Pegasi that wanted power. And so, the era of the alicorn reign ended. Now and forever, ponies will control their own destinies.

“But some ponies were still loyal to the false princess, still believing the lies that had been propagated during the millennial reign of the sun. The ancestors of those that followed the princesses still fight to this day, planning rebellion in the shadows. They fight in their ignorance, because that is all they know.”

Wildheart glared, “That’s just the propaganda Chrysalis and Sombra spew to justify their leadership.”

“Oh? Do you have proof of the contrary?”

The first opened his mouth to respond, but after a moment his face fell, a few hairs of his yellow mane falling into his eyes.“No, but even you have seen the slave caravans first hand, recapturing escaped crystal ponies. Or how about the drones and soldiers who come for loyalist dissenters?”

“Which is why I speak the way I do!” He whispered, “Ears and eyes could be anywhere, Wildheart, even here, in the middle of the whitetail woods! We all know that Surprise’s father is a loyalist, even if her mother is not. If we’re going to believe, we have to believe quietly, even around those we want to trust.”

The white and yellow pony perked up at the sound of her name, a wide smile spread across her face.

Wildheart’s face fell, “You’re right, Design. I’m sorry.”

Surprise glanced between the two, noticing Wildheart’s frown and Grand Design’s glare. She bit her lip.It was probably time to change the subject.

“Well... do you ponies want to know what I know?” The two young stallions looked her way, eyebrows raised.

“Monday is Mystery Meat day at schooooool!” Surprise declared with a big, cheesy smile, and her forehooves held high above her head.

Wildheart and Design exchanged a grimace, sticking their tongues out in a mock gag. Surprise stood still, eyes going back and forth between her two friends then deflated, lowering her hooves and giving them a sheepish smile. “Yeah, I hate it too..."

* * *

A steaming mound of grey mush that was mystery meat sat, untouched, on Grand Design’s plate. He levitated his spoon towards it, poking the pile that dared to impersonate lunch.

Poke

“They do realize ponies are vegetarian… right?” he asked, barely suppressing a grimace.

Poke

Wildheart brought his face down to the level of the putrid mass on his own tray, wrinkling his muzzle. “That’s the mystery, isn’t it?”

Poke

Wildheart sat back up, brushing back his unnaturally long, canary yellow mane. “What I don’t understand is how Surprise can stomach something so vile.” He gestured with his hoof, pointing at the mare eating with the other freshmen in her class. Her own mound of mystery meat was more than half gone.

Usually, students only eat mystery meat once. If its thick, slimy consistency didn’t put them off, the flavour that imitated mold certainly did.

Poke

Design grimaced as a fleck of errant mystery meat flew and stuck onto his grey coat. As he levitated his napkin over to wipe it up, he muttered, “She’ll eat anything that doesn’t get away quickly enough.”

Wildheart frowned. Design paused from poking his lunch and looked away from his friend. Surprise apparently still didn’t feel comfortable enough with Wildheart to tell him why she was so willing to eat the drivel the school cafeteria served. He shook his head. It wasn’t his place to talk about her secrets. The mere thought of it left a vile taste in his mouth. He wished he could do more to help their adopted freshman.

As he finished wiping away the muck, a bell began to toll outside. Wildheart straightened, gritting his teeth. “BUCK! I didn’t do my…”

Design levitated a roll of parchment out of his bag, “...Math homework? That you were supposed to come over and work on with me last night?”

Wildhearts cheeks reddened under his fur. “I’m sorry, my father…”

“Needed help at the shop. Yes, I know.” Design levitated the parchment and dropped into Wildheart’s hooves, “Don’t worry, it’s in your hoofwriting.”

Wildhearts eyes widened, glistening. “Thank—”

“Don’t thank me, I made sure you got a few wrong. Just to make sure dear ol’ Professor Pemdas doesn’t catch on,” Design said with a crooked smile, “You owe me now. Big time.”

And with that the young stallion adjusted his school uniform with a flourish and set off towards the doors. Wildheart just grinned and followed, nickering to himself.

* * *

Grand Design pawed at the ground and refused to look anywhere but his hooves as a brand new car pulled up to the front of the school. Passing students watched in awe since such technologies were still very rare. As it pulled to a stop, the engine rumbled, then went dead.

Great, now it’ll take even longer, he thought as the driver jumped out of the front seat, grumbling, and went to spin the crank that sat between the headlights.

Alicorns had little need for machines such as cars—they could fly, and those that had passed their magic exams could teleport short distances. Trains and subways were only utilized for longer distances and there were a few ponies that didn’t do so well with the flight and magic, but even then, most shied away from technology due to the expense. The new machines of convenience were a show of money and power. Both of which his father was very fond of and had in much excess.

Then again, with a name like Power Play, how could it have been any different?

As Design approached the car, the driver nodded at him with a tip of his cap then returned his attention to the unruly engine. He didn’t have to look to feel the eyes of the other students on him. Keeping his head bowed, Design jumped into the back seat. He sat across from his father, looking anywhere but in the snow-white stallion’s piercing blue eyes.

“Well, boy?” his father intoned, “How was it?”

“As good as can be expected,” Design mumbled, at which his father raised an eyebrow.

“You do realize that everything I’ve been preparing you for—

A tapping sound drew their attention to the sidewalk next to the car. The school nurse stood, looking in at them expectantly and tapping her hoof lightly on the window.

Power Play rolled down the window, “Yes, miss...?”

“Nurse Joy, sir,” she said, obnoxiously chipper and entirely oblivious to the stallion’s withering glare, “I wanted to give you these!”

A manilla folder floated into the car, surrounded by the nurse’s yellow aura. It was quickly overtaken by a brown glow as his father took it from her. As he levitated it closer to himself, he opened it and began flipping through the pages, “And these are?”

“Oh, silly me,” she said with a chuckle, “those are little Debutante’s school medical records! Grand Design here let me know that you were going to inquire after them in a few days to share with her doctor, so I thought I would spare you the trouble and bring them over today.”

The stallion’s eyebrows raised up to the point they were almost completely hidden behind his brown mane. As he looked over the folder at Design, he said, “I see. Thank you for the foresight, Miss Joy.”

“Of course! Have a good day now.” With a wide grin she made off towards the nurses office.

As his father’s eyes moved across the various pages, Design couldn’t help himself, “You were saying, father?”

Those ice blue eyes once again contemplated him, but this time with a hint of mischief. “Nothing. It would appear you are my son after all.”

Design could no longer hold back the impish grin that spread across his muzzle. The engine resumed and the driver crawled into the front seat, and they rumbled out of the parking lot.

As his father looked through page after page of the numerous notes inside the folder, Design looked through the window at the passing landscape. Tall buildings and sidewalks full of pedestrians blocked the view of the fields and mountains beyond.

He sighed. City life was never boring, but sometimes he wondered what it would be like to live out in the country, away from all the noise and pollution. As the driver turned into Historic Oldtown Pegisopolis, Design couldn’t help but admire the smaller buildings. They had more personality, more flair, and didn’t look as though a robot had imagined them.

Oldtown was still a suburb of brick and mortar—some homes even had yards! The community felt more spontaneous in its design, more creative in its execution. Ponies were allowed to have small statues in their yards, or different kinds of fencing. There were no homeowners associations to force the ponies to keep their grass trimmed to exactly so many inches or their homes painted a certain color.

Their next turn took them out of Oldtown and into downtown Pegisopolis. Grand skyscrapers littered the landscape, complete with landing balconies at every floor. Steel and glass had replaced the white stone of empires past. It was compelling at first, but over the years Design found himself wishing to be closer to nature. The few parks and occasional tree-lined street only gave the slightest hint of their connection to nature. Cities such as Pegisopolis were hubs of culture and commerce, and yet Design felt more connected to Equestria when his family stayed at their summer home near Ponyville.

The drive from the school to the condominium was not far and it wasn’t long before his father was unlocking the door to their three story apartment. His mother was cooking dinner and his younger sister was working on homework at the table.

“Debutante?” his father said, watching his daughter closely.

The girl had only rarely earned her father’s ire, but she nonetheless cringed at the coolness in his voice, “Yes, father?”

Design clopped past the two towards the kitchen as the filly slinked out of her chair and towards her bedroom. He loosened the tie on his uniform as he sidled up next to his mother, barely able suppress his snicker.

“At it again, are we Design?” she asked with a sigh as she stirred the pot on the stove.

“I don’t know what you mean, mother,” he replied. He wrapped his hooves around her shoulders, being careful of her swollen belly. She hugged him back and mussed up his mane.

“Gah!” He backed off immediately, holding up his hooves protectively, “Why do you always do that?” He levitated a comb out of his pocket and attempted to fix the tangled knot that now sat upon his head.

“So, how was school?” she asked, pushing a pink strand back behind her ear.

“That’s not faaaaaaaaaair!” The wailing sob of a distraught younger sister echoed out from the back hall. The sound of his sister’s distress made him giddy.

“It’s no WONDER your grades have been slipping!” Power Play’s voice followed, “if I hear about you skipping class again, you will have MUCH worse to look forward to!”

“Oh… I think you know how it went,” Design said, standing as tall and proud as he could.

His mother’s dark blue eyes returned to him as she cleared her throat, “Anyways… the foal was kicking for your father and Debutante today. Would you like to see if it will for you?”

“Sure!”

His mother sidled away from the stove and closer towards him. He raised a hoof and placed it on her side. After a few moments, he felt something thump against his hoof. Design gasped, his smile nearly splitting his face in two. “Is it a young stallion or a filly?”

“We decided not to know,” his father’s voice said from behind them, ”We know we will love it either way, so we told the doctor we wanted to be surprised.”

Debutante followed her father, wiping her nose with a hoof. “Whatever it is,” she whimpered, “I hope it’s nicer to me than my brother.”

* * *

Grand Design stared at the chessboard. For the first time since he started playing, he felt he may actually earn a draw with his mother.

She had played like an amature, allowing him control of the ground board and air supremacy on the board above. He suspected a trick at first, an attempt to lull him into a false sense of security. As he cleared the board of most of her Earth Pony pieces he began to wonder if she was losing on purpose. Once he had gained one of her unicorns and both of her guards, he knew she was.

She had even lost her captain in the first ten moves. The only thing his mother had done right was guard her princess in the first three. It sat in the corner with her only remaining tower a few squares away.

Her horn glowed as she made her move; pulling the unicorn diagonally across the board to support her tower. This left her with a cornered Pegasi on the sky board and an Earth Pony island only a few squares away from being promoted, but kept from moving by the defense of his own tower.

She’s drawing in her forces, preparing to hold her ground and cause the draw, he thought. She was retreating—time to go in for the kill.

He moved one of his Pegasi within range his mother’s. She could take that piece, but that would leave it vulnerable to one of his other Pegasi.

Now she’ll have to... his eyes widened as he realized where her piece was sitting.

Her only other option would be to move her Pegasi to the ground board. This would still leave it vulnerable, but he hadn’t watched exactly where she had been on the board above. He had simply assumed she had been retreating to save her last piece in the air.

Instead, as she moved her piece to the board below, and his princess was placed in check.

He scrambled quickly, moving his princess out of check behind a guard—this would only be a temporary fix. While Pegasi could only move three squares in any direction, they were the only other piece besides guards that could ‘hop’ other pieces. She would move the Pegasi, putting his princess in check again, which she did.

He only had one viable option. He moved his tower out of its guard to take out the Pegasi.

His mother used this to her advantage. He couldn’t move his tower back in time to stop her from promoting an Earth Pony. Which she, of course, promoted to a captain.

Grand Design gritted his teeth.

He moved his tower to intercept, but she moved the captain out of the way and in line to take out the piece guarding his princess. He once again adjusted his tower, prepared to lose his unicorn to save the princess.

Instead of taking out the unicorn, however, she moved her own unicorn between the tower and the captain. He was forced to take it out while she moved the captain behind the unicorn.

Design chewed his lip, having to make a decision. He could move his princess and be chased until he was lucky enough to put her into a compromising situation or lose. Or…

He moved his tower directly in front of the princess. His mother may now take out the tower, but he would have the princess take out the captain.

Except his mother didn’t move the captain to take the tower. Instead, she moved another Earth Pony to be promoted. Again, she made it a captain. A captain that put his princess in check diagonally. So his only option was, again, either to run, or move a piece to guard.

Either way, he knew what his mother was doing. After he made his move, she would promote the third and final Earth Pony. After that he could take out the other captain, but that would put his tower at her mercy of her last remaining tower. He could begin moving down his Pegasi from above, but they would simply become fodder for the captains, only delaying the inevitable. There was no move that would get him even a draw.

He held out a hoof, and knocked over his princess.

His mother raised an eyebrow, “You surrender?”

Grand Design nodded.

His mother shook her head with a sigh, “Do you know what I was trying to show you with this game?”

He looked at the board, wrinkling his muzzle, “That you can play a bad hoof very well.”

She nodded, “Exactly! That even without some of the most important pieces, you can still gain a win. It is difficult; it needs to be planned and executed with the greatest of efficiency, but it’s possible if you work to each piece’s strengths and have them work together.”

Design grunted.

She pursed her lips for a moment, then gestured to the board, “You still could have won, you know.”

His eyes were drawn to the board, eyes going over every piece.

“I don’t see it.”

She sighed. He might be an expert strategist and tactician, but his mother lived for pony chess. She knew all the rules, all the intricacies, every hint about the game that would give her the edge.

She pointed her hoof toward a pegasus, opening her mouth to begin a rare explanation that she would never give. A loud, explosion could be heard from somewhere outside.

“What…?” his mother said, her ears perking. She began to stand as something, many somethings, began to hit the wall behind her. There was the smell of something burning.

“Design!” She turned, throwing herself over him as a shield as the wall behind her exploded open in a wall of flame, wooden shards flying towards them. He watched in horror as the ends of the shards appeared through a hole in her shoulder, her leg. Her eyes went wide, then her body went slack as a third appeared through her forehead.

Her crimson blood splattered across his grey coat.

He gasped, a scream caught in his throat. His eyes were wide, searching, hoping to find something to indicate to him that this was a dream. His legs shook, and he felt nausea welling up in his belly as his eyes were drawn back to his mothers fallen body. He was reaching out to her when the fire began to spread to the books that lined the walls. He dove to the ground in time to avoid the second blast that rocked their home, splinters flying harmlessly above him.

With a last look at his mother’s limp body, he crawled through the door into the hall. As he stood and shook himself he heard the bookshelves, and possibly even the part of the wall, give way.

Design quickly wiped a few stray tears from his cheeks and choked back his sobs. Grief would have to wait.

He debated with himself over getting out of the apartment or first running to grab his sister’s pet kitten. She adored that damnable cat, and would never let him live it down if he let it die in the fire.

Why am I thinking about saving a kitten, of all things? I need to get out of…

“Leave her... she’s dead,” a voice said from the room he just vacated, “I’ll see what I can do with her. The rest of you, find the boy.”

That’s when he heard it, a buzzing louder than a teen stallion’s radio. Changelings!

What were changelings doing here? There was absolutely no reason for them to come here, unless…

“He’s got to be in here somewhere… he must be going for the exit. Go, now!”

Kitten it was, then.

Design rolled into a door across the hall from his mother’s study, a servant chamber. He jumped into a basket and quickly pulled a blanket over him. He did his best to look like a nondescript pile of laundry.

He hadn’t needed to, the changeling drones flew out of the room and down the hall, without even a glance into the room. It was as if they knew the way to the exit.

They probably did.

His horn glowed as he used his magic to sense the drones. As far as he could tell, they had all made for the front door. He threw off the blanket and hurried towards his sister’s room a few doors down, closing the door gently behind him.

“Bluebell!” he whispered urgently, “Bluebelle! It’s me!”

He heard a hiss from beneath his sister’s bed. He knelt and saw the white ball of fluff pushed up against the wall, fur standing on end. He and the feline had never gotten along, but his sister absolutely adored it.

“Sorry about this,” he whispered. He grabbed his sister’s backpack and used his unicorn magic to shove the angry knot of fuzz inside, zipping it up after.

Design heard movement outside the door, ”He wasss not between here and the entrance. Cccould he be sssomewhere else in the here?”

Bluebell fought to get out of the bag, letting loose a horrid yowl. Design’s eyes widened in horror.

”What wasss that?”

He grabbed the backpack’s straps in his teeth and used his magic to throw open the window. He jumped through to the fire escape, grateful that the drones had not congregated in the back alley. Yet he couldn’t help but wonder if it was a trap. The alley was a dead end. His only option would be to run out towards the front, where more drones would certainly be waiting.

He looked over the edge of the fire escape, gulping as he flapped his wings. After a moment of thought shook his head. He still remembered the week-long recovery he he had after the previous time he tried to fly. Instead, he turned and climbed the fire escape as the drones broke through his sister’s door, not even bothering to open it.

”He’sss getting away!”

Design clambered to the roof, only one story up. For the first time in his short life, he was glad to be close to the top of the condo. He looked for a means of escape, but there was no time!. He had two options: one was risky, but the other was most certainly suicide.

No one that ever went with the drones ever came back.

He turned, flaring his wings, and ran. Design jumped over the edge of the building, resisting the urge to flap wildly. He was falling, not flying. Surprise and Wildheart had always been better at flying than he. Design much preferred his hooves planted firmly on the ground.

His horn began to glow as he called on his magic, trying to remember the spell that would temporarily make the ground soft. Before he could even release the spell, his wings caught a gust of wind that turned him out and up. He gave his wings a quick flap to re-stabilize himself.

Mission accomplished!

He risked a glance over his shoulder, but the drones were far behind—they were only now congregating on the roof behind him. As they caught sight of him, they took off, but were now far behind thanks to the wind. Luck was with him, for now.

Design beat his wings to gain altitude and speed. Alright, I can do this. Just like Surprise said, look where you want to go, not where you’re about to be... Design went over the various tips Surprise had given him for flying, suddenly glad he had to study so hard to pass his flight test.

The drones had begun to gain on him as he reached downtown Pegisopolis. He used his newfound altitude to descend. Design weaved between the impossibly tall buildings. Left, then right, changing his attitude to distribute his emotional scent and throw any drones that were still in pursuit.

What he really needed was an escape. He turned again, his jaw beginning to ache from the tight hold he had on the straps in his mouth. The bag swung back and forth as the angry kitten threw a fit inside.

Design saw the entrance to the underground railway, up ahead and on the left. He risked a quick glance over his shoulder to see that the drones were almost on him.

Perfect.

Now that he knew where he wanted to go, he banked left, away from the subway entrance. The game had become his to play—he was in his element.

Strategy.

Buildings rushed past faster and faster with every flap of his wings. More confident in his flight, he dared get so close to the buildings that he could reach out and touch them. Once the drones were close enough that he could hear the buzzing over the sound of the wind, he pushed hard off of the building.

Having their prey fly at them was the last thing they were prepared for. The drones buzzed around in confusion, at the last minute coming together—the collective having calmed the few. That didn’t matter.

He angled down, speeding past at least a yard below his would-be captors. “Come and get me, you mindless insects!”

He flew back towards the subway entrance, but the drones were on his tail... and now they were mad. His wings beat faster, trying to gain every ounce of speed he could get, regardless of the building that was growing dangerously closer. Hooks and chains from the dormant construction equipment swung from side to side in the breeze.

Design did his best to angle his flight towards the few installed panes of glass. Almost there... Almost there! One of the drones reached out to grab the tip of his tail in it’s maw. Design barely noticed, as he watched his reflection grow to nearly his own size in the glass ahead of him. NOW!

He banked right at the last second, spinning to help disperse the force of the turn. Three of the changeling drones ran into the building he had barely managed to avoid, one getting tangled in the hanging chains. He then used his downward momentum to swing himself up, over the last building, and straight down into the subway tunnel.

He realized the one flaw in his plan. He hadn’t given himself time to slow down.

He did his best to fly above the crowd of colorful alicorns within, but the low ceiling allowed for little room. He managed to slow down quite a bit, but as he passed by the “no flying” sign on the wall, he couldn’t reduce his speed enough to keep from hitting the wall at the back of the platform.

SNAP!

His body was only able to resist gravity for a moment, then slid down with a long, drawn out squeek.

Once his butt reached the floor he groaned, raising his right foreleg. The ankle pulsed with pain. He had thrown his hoof forward to take the force, and it had broken with the impact. His Earth Pony magic was making quick work of the injury. Even so, the ankle would cost him precious minutes in his getaway.

“Just what do you think you’re doing, young man?!” A brown stallion in an important-looking suit that designated him as the conductor growled at him. As Design stood and the stallion was able to get a better look, his eyes widened “By the Mistress! Child, are you alright?!”

Looked down, realizing he was still covered in his mothers’ blood.

“Oh, I uh… it’s paint! I was helping my dad paint… my little sister’s room! When the bucket got dumped on me, and then…” The bag he had dropped began to shift. Bluebelle began to yowl as she struggled to find an escape. Design’s mind clicked.

“I’m in a hurry.” He held up the backpack, hissing kitten still struggling inside, “I need to get my sister’s kitten to the vet! There’s something wrong with it!”

The stallion looked at the bag, then met Designs flustered face with a flat look, “It couldn’t be that it’s been shoved inside a tiny bag, now would it?”

Design opened his mouth to speak, when a commotion at the entrance drew his attention. Three of the changelings were descending the stairway into the subway, grabbing ponies then throwing them aside. Their mirrored eyes searched the crowd.

The sudden noise drew the conductor’s gaze. He gave the young stallion one more once-over with his eyes, and decided that Design was in no imminent danger. The conductor adjusted his red tie with his magic, then left Design with a quick, “Stay here!”

As he trotted away, Design tested his hoof—it was fully healed. Finally!

He took off—not towards the train, but instead to a maintenance door. He did his best to keep his emotions under control. If he felt fear and panic, they would find him in an instant. If he was impatient, bored, amused, or any sort of emotion that blended into the crowd around him he could slip away.

What was that joke Surprise had told him the other day? Kirin used to have these really wide eyes, eyes as wide as an owl’s...

Oh yeah, he had forgotten how bad that joke was. Surprise had an utterly macabre sense of humor. He snickered in spite of himself, We’re all going to wind up in Tartarus someday.

He reached the maintenance door as the stallion reached the changelings. He snuck through and peeked, seeing the conductor pointing to where Design had just been. He closed the bright red door behind him as quietly as possible. As he lit up his horn he began running down the hall and took the first right. A small hole with a ladder at ted straight down into the sewer.

Design had learned about the passageway into the sewers during a field trip to the water treatment plant some months back. The teacher had claimed the trip was a way for the students to explore the city, to learn about how it worked.

Design suspected it was to start setting up some of the students to work in the various facilities.

He looked towards the maintenance door, the only exit. Back into the subway station, where the changelings would be waiting for him. The only way to go was forward.

“Who would have thought that a school assignment on the city sewers would have been so… useful?” he mumbled and gulped as he climbed the ladder into the smelly pit of waste and refuse.

Design wrinkled his muzzle at the smell that assaulted his nose. “Augh! This place is rank!” he said to nopony in particular. Even the cat in the bag had stopped fussing and let out a short meow, as if in agreement. She then stopped fighting altogether.

He slipped the straps around his neck.“I think you’ll be much more comfortable that way,” Design mumbled. He worked his jaw, which was sore from clenching the straps between his teeth, “Now to get out of here.”

He set off at a trot down one of the sewer ledges, trying to keep his balance as the trains rumbled by. He had never been down in the sewers, but he knew that they followed the same layout as the streets above. Thankfully, he knew the city well, and down here he wouldn’t have to dodge the notice of the changelings that would be out there looking for him.

He had memorized the city scheme for the very reason he just encountered. Preparation for any eventuality was key. His father had taught him that. Except… his father had never had any plans in place for something like this. His mother was dead, and he had no way of knowing what had become of his father or Debutante.

Design grit his teeth and pushed those thoughts out of his mind. He would have time to worry about that once he found a proper place to hide out.

He reached the edge of the city without incident, where the sewer opened up into a waste-treatment system. In order to sneak into the facility, however, he would have to to jump down into the canal of horrid sludge.

Gingerly, Design reached a hoof into the churning mass of waste, then drew it back. It was warm. He couldn’t suppress the shudder that ran through him, and tried to ignore the bile that rose in his throat. After much debate, he slid down the side into the muck and did his best not to splash too much.

He tried not to think about what the warm liquids consisted of as sticky solids bumped into his knees. He felt his stomach twist as something squished beneath his hoof, and wondered if he would be adding to the vileness below him. The contents of his last meal would be indiscernible in this stuff.

He had to crouch down even lower to fit through a narrow pipe, and felt some of the goop stick to his belly.

Sunshine and meadows and butterflies. The cute little mare that sits in front of you in class. How about that flank? His attempts at distracting himself didn’t seem to be working.

The cat was a dead weight in the pack around his neck, and he wondered if Bluebelle had passed out. He did his best not to let the pack dip into the muck, but something below caught his foreleg, throwing him forward. The backpack fell nearly halfway into the refuse.

Reoooowr whimpered the kitten in horror. The feline tried to climb the interior of the backpack, away from the offending cloth. Claws protruded out of the bag—straight into Design’s neck.

This pipe is way too long.

How about that hoofball card that pipsqueak in history was trying to sell? Who was it… Oh, yeah! A limited edition Beckhoof. Ugh... but he’s totally overpricing it. Well, I wonder when the next Maretoria’s Secret catalogue will be released... He thought on, trying to keep his mind on anything else, with little success.

He reached the edge of the tunnel, where a waterfall of pony waste arched into a vat below with thick, bubbling splashes. Design looked out into the facility and saw nopony nearby, not even a dull janitor or harried technician. He looked up and saw a ledge that would be out of sight, a safe place to hide for a while. Design thought of thanking Mare Luck, but decided to thank his own intuition instead.

He jumped out of the debris, flapping his wings, his crash course in acrobatic flying allowing him more confidence in his wings. Some of the residue fell from his underside, but most stayed firmly stuck to his coat. As he reached the ledge, he dropped the bag. Bluebelle managed to scramble out and away, curling herself up in a corner.

“Yeah, I think that’s ruined,” Design said, then kicked the backpack over the ledge and into the pit of grime below.

Finally, a moment to relax. He filled his lungs gratefully, then regretted it instantly. He shook his head to clear his nostrils as he made a mental note to only take shallow breaths. After recovering from the horrid stench, Design decided it was finally time to look himself over. His cheeks puffed up in an attempt to hold back his vomit as his face turned green.

It’s. All. Over. Me.

Design’s heart began to race in something akin to panic. Wildheart and Surprise had always teased him for being so painstakingly dedicated to his appearance. Oh how they would be laughing if they could see him now… howling with laughter and pointing.

His hooves were rooted to the spot as he looked around frantically. Not ten feet away, in what looked like a makeshift maintenance closet, was a bucket hanging on a spigot. Design couldn’t bring himself to move, but using his magic he turned the valve. Pure, clean water poured into the bucket. He let out a choked sob of laughter, filling the bucket nearly to the brim. He levitated the bucket to where he stood, overturning it on himself.

Only slightly less dirty, Design was released from the paralyzing disgust that had locked him in place. ran over to the maintenance closet and found what he was looking for: soap. There was a pile of it. At first, Design wondered why there would be random bars of soap in a maintenance closet. Then he thought of his own predicament and decided it made perfect sense.

Design grabbed a bar and lathered it exuberantly. As he bathed he refilled the bucket multiple times to wash away the copious amounts of grime from his coat. Once the last speck of sewer junk was gone from his coat, he lifted a hoof and sniffed it.

“Ahhhhh.... the fresh scent of clean,” he said, with almost orgasmic relief.

A thought struck him, and he turned.

* * *

Bluebelle sat hunched in the corner, wishing for her soft bed in the filly’s room. Where was the little filly that took such great care of her? Why was this ruffian of a stallion dragging her to who-knows-where for who-knows why? Why did he get her so... dirty?

Her head flew up to investigate a sudden clang that echoed out from in front of her. The young stallion held another bucket of water and a fresh bar of soap aloft with his magic. But instead of washing himself, he was smiling at her with a maniacal gleam in his eye.

* * *

Once Bluebelle was as clean as he was, Design slumped in the corner. Now that he was out of immediate danger and adrenaline no longer coursed through his veins, the events of the day came rushing back to him.

The drones were after him. He wondered if they had discovered where his true loyalties lay. He had been so careful, taken every precaution… How could they find out? He could only hope the rest of his family was safe.

His family…

The sight of his mother, wooden stakes pushed through her body at various angles and laying in a pool of her own blood, flashed before his eyes. His heart skipped a beat. His breathing roughened as fresh tears began to flow down his cheeks. He whimpered as he curled up in a ball in the corner.

Sobs wracked through him as he was haunted with visions of his dead mother, made more horrible by his imagination. “Nnng… n.. no… I couldn’t even… she was right there in front of me… but I couldn’t… ggng…”

Bluebelle approached him slowly, flicking her tail this way and that. After a few moments of watching him, she reached out and pushed his foreleg with her nose.

“Ugh… huh?” He lifted his head to look at the still soaked kitten. She shivered, looking up at him with mournful eyes.

“Mrow?”

Design reached out and pulled the creature close. He buried his face in her warm, albeit wet, fur. She didn’t fight or protest as she usually did. The two sat as companions in grief, pining for the life they once had.