Dirge of Harmony

Chapters

Chapter One: Atypical Day
Chapter Two: Cerchens
Chapter Four: Pills, Dolls and Lightning
Chapter Five: Never Mess With Doc
Chapter Six: "This is Industry"
Chapter Seven: Before the Tempest
Chapter Eight: The Tempest, Part 1
Chapter Nine: The Tempest, Part 2
Chapter Ten: Post Tempest
Chapter Three: Miasma of Gloom

Chapter One: Atypical Day

White. Everything was white. It was not the white of a clean floor, nor was it the white of a fluffy cloud. No. This was the kind of white that makes one think of death. It was the kind of antiseptic, unusually clean white that possessed some horrific semblance to a hospice ward, a place where only the dying go for their final hours. And it was all lit by a white light in the ceiling.

The windows were closed out by a heavy black curtain, the sunlight utterly rejected from the room. In stark contrast to the color of the room were the furnishings, all an onyx black. At the center of the room was a table, a large, horrid thing the color of richest coal. Resting upon the table as though it had found the perfect spot in the world on which to sleep was a strange mechanism.

The mechanism consisted of six gemstones, each representing something, each representing the Elements of Harmony. These gems were hooked together via a wire that linked them with a gray box off to the side. The almost sickly light reflected into the crystalline gems, creating a spectrum of shifting colors just beneath their polished surfaces.

Cauterium sighed as he paced around the room, threatening to put a groove into the floor as his lab coat swayed in his own idle haste, occasionally taking furtive glances at the mountains of paperwork he had metaphorically walled himself in with. The lab coat jostled his light brown fur as he adjusted his black rimmed glasses, the ones hanging over his golden eyes – eyes that rendered him half-blind, but to him it was a bearable price for the cause of science.

His mind was a swirling vortex, his thoughts raged like a hurricane, but there was one thought that stood clear. It was a single word that summed up all his questions in a single piece of poetry: when?

“When will it be ready?” he mumbled to his lonesome, trying his best not to grind his teeth. He continued pacing in aimless circles around the table. “Why isn’t it ready? All the processes are stable. All the calculations are correct. They could not be incorrect, he couldn't afford them to be – he had spent half of his life, for what that was worth, on this experiment.

A bead of cold sweat rolled down his forehead as he contemplated the reality of failure being a possibility. His heart rate only continued to alternate between beating in his stomach and throat as he continued to pace, his speed getting ever faster with each passing, agonizing minute. Cauterium bit his lip, steeling himself for possible action.

Cauterium’s horn lit up, glowing a sharp emerald green. A newspaper, now surrounded by the same aura, rose up from a nearby table and floated to his eyes. With a ridiculous amount of care, his pulse elevating as he did so, he turned to a very, very specific page. The page began with an article – the article displayed six mares.

“Discord, threat to Equestria, defeated by Elements of Harmony. Order restored!” read the article's title.

“And you, my dears, live in Ponville,” he murmured as if keeping his own words a secret from himself. His lips curled into a nigh sadistic grin. “You time, ladies, is nigh over. You don’t have what it takes to save this nation. Though I think it's high time to take a vacation to the countryside.”

He made a move towards the small back table in one corner of the room, setting the paper aside. Upon the table was a small pink vial, its contents shimmering with an ethereal light. He picked the vial up, holding it before his eyes, examining it as though he were a jeweler and it a diamond.

“Well, Narcissus,” he mumbled to the liquid, “it's time to see your little ‘gift’ in action.”

*****

"Remind me again why we’re doing this, Twilight?" Spike groaned, running a purple hand through his green frills.

"Because Derpy asked us to help her collect the letters she lost, Spike," a mare replied. Her mane was a moderate sapphire blue, twin streaks of moderate violet and brilliant rose ran down the center of it, splitting in half along her horn. Horn glowing, she picked up another lost letter.

Twilight cast her eyes onto the dragon. “Over there, Spike.” She pointed to a nearby building, on its roof was a letter. A very lonely and hard-to-reach letter.

“And why isn’t Derpy helping us?” Spike groused, scurrying his way up the drainpipe. Something cracked. Without warning, Spike found the ground rushing to greet him with open arms, nevermind that he was still clutched to the pipe. “Ow...”

“Don’t you remember the last time she helped us?” She shook her head. “I don't want to have to repair the town’s roofs again, Spike.” Twilight sighed, plucking the envelope from its lofty perch with her magic. “I probably should have done that from the get go,” she mumbled to the letter, stashing it in a saddlebag.

Spike made a face. “I still don’t get how she could be so clumsy,” he griped, rolling his eyes. “This is her special talent?” He got up, dusting his scales of loose dust particles.

“Spike, don’t be so critical. Everypony has their flaws.” Her horn set itself alight with magical energy. "Spike, over there!” She pointed to a flagpole, a letter stuck to its pommel.

“And I’m going to reach that how?” he deadpanned.

Twilight blinked. “Right, right, sorry,” she chuckled, levitating the letter from up high into her bag.

“Twilight, why do you even need me here if you can fetch all these letters with magic?” he pointed out, his expression also a deadpan.

“Well, I certainly can’t get them all by myself.”

“Of course you can – you’re the best magician ever!” Spike's gave his friend a large, desperate smile.

Twilight’s expression became downright nefarious. “What’s wrong, ‘number one assistant’? Want me to call Owloysius to get that letter from under the bench?”

His eyes bulged as he quickly ‘complied’ with her. “That’s cheating and you know it,” he mumbled, handing her the letter.

“Just kidding, Spike,” she chuckled. “Two heads are better than one, you know. Try looking for some yourself. It’s not difficult.”

“And by that logic, the hydra is the wisest of all,” Spike pointed out under his breath. Glancing about, he noticed a creamy-white, vaguely manila thing in a nearby bush. “Ello, ello, what ‘ave we ‘ere. Oi, methinks me sees a clues, that's wot I thinks me sees, eh, Trotson? Let’s go catch Jaque the Cottawn-Canday Eatah, eh?” Twilight rolled her eyes at Spike’s sudden urge to be a certain famous detective, no matter that he butchered the accent. He stuck a claw into the thicket.

“EEK!” yelped a mare. “What do you think you’re doing?!”

“Nothin’, sorry, Rose! I didn’t-uh, sorry!” Spike let the mare free of his claws. She backed away from him, a suspicious look on her muzzle. Twilight laughed.

“Excuse me, Miss,” said a male voice to Twilight’s right. He was middle-aged, his coat a light brown, and his mane the color of straw. On his nose sat black-rimmed glasses, through which gentle, smiling, golden eyes watched. A thin, stylish beard hung from his chin. “Might you be Twilight Sparkle, young lady?" he asked, pausing his walk within a few feet of Twilight.

"Yes, that's-” She paused, her nose twitching as she inhaled something. Without warning a warm feeling crept its way down her breast and into her stomach, hatching into butterflies. “Me,” she replied, her voice shaking with the tendrils of timid excitement.

Spike cocked a brow at her sudden change in demeanor. She took a deep breath as she tried to wrest control of herself, only to worsen the effect. The stallion smiled gently as he waited for her to collect herself. But he only had so much patience. “And hi. I’m Spike, a dragon.”

The stallion nodded to Spike before refocusing on Twilight. “Please forgive me if I'm wasting your time. My name is Microscope.” He demonstrated his cutie mark, which bore vague semblance to his namesake device. “I’m a... I’m a scientist from a little place called ‘Upper Fields’. As you can probably tell,” he chuckled, “I’m new here, though just I’m staying for a brief sojourn.” He took a step towards her. “I was actually, well, I don’t mean to jump the crossbow or anything, but I was looking for you specifically.

“H-how do you know me?” Twilight, her legs threatening to abandon her to fend for herself.

There was something off about the stranger, at least that’s how Spike saw it. Though he couldn’t put exact reason to it, just being near Microscope that made Spike want to bite him, something he would never ever do. Despite the stranger’s pleasant disposition, he made the skin beneath Spike’s scales crawl.

Microscope smiled a warm, charming grin. “How could I not know who you are, Twilight Sparkle? You and your friends have saved Equestria twice. I would have thought that anonymity would’ve been in short supply for you, madam.”

At his words, she felt her cheeks flush, a stupid smirk on her face. And breathing in only made it worse. Twilight couldn’t shake off the feeling that this stallion was dangerous, yet her thought seemed unwilling to contemplate that possibility. In fact, her thoughts were a disarrayed mess unto themselves – something Twilight would never let stand, though she was struggling to stand as it was.

“I-is that so? Can I help you th-then?” Twilight stammered.

“You see, dear Twilight, we – or more accurately, I – have been studying the Elements of Harmony, and I’d like to seek your assistance.” Microscope added a subdued wink to his final syllable.

“Elements of Harmony? And what exactly do you want to know about them? I’d be happy to-to tell you whatever you’re after,” Twilight replied, shifting hoof to hoof, only to be vaguely startled by her own sense of forthcoming.

“All I want to know is how you connect to your Element, Miss Twilight. How is it that you can wield a force such as the Sixth Element? The more details the better.”

Spike sniffed at the air, detecting an acrid yet faint aroma from the stallion. He took a furtive glance at Twilight and, with alarm, noticed she was blushing, her expression a stupid, girlish smile. Moreover, it seemed like with each passing second the smell became stronger. As Spike tasted the scent he began to find Microscope both more and less tolerable.

“I wish I had that cologne,” he mumbled under his breath.

“Connection...” Twilight strained, trying to recall events through the pink haze of obscure thoughts. A pregnant pause. “It's just when I realized how everypony received their Elements – that is, when I truly, truly understood the value of friendship – there was a.. a...” Twilight gritted her teeth. “There’s nothing more to say, really. The feelings is nigh indescribable. I don’t think language can even begin to do it justice.” Twilight offered him a sheepish smile.

There was something about his tone, honest and curious though it was, that made her skin crawl – her mind flat out refused to dwell upon the subject, as if it were under some external effect. Yet something about his eyes and body language gave the impression that he wasn’t learning anything.

“Your Element.” He paused for effect. “Is the hardest to understand, Miss Twilight: Magic. It cannot appear without the other five. Yet it is by far the most important; without which neither could function, and yet they need to be united to activate the Sixth. A very, very curious procedure.”

“Your tone make it sound like love poetry,” Spike opined, opening his mouth and gesturing a finger down it.

The stallion chuckled. “I’m passionate about my work. Just think about it: five Elements – Loyalty, Laughter, Generosity, Kindness and Honesty – when mixed together via friendship allow the manifestation of Magic. But more specifically, the concept of the ideal friendship. What do we mean by ordinary friendship? A combination of several Elements, but the ideal friendship consists of all five, thus combining the five Elements into a mysterious sixth. Friendship is, quite literally, Magic, huh?”

“I'm sorry I couldn’t help you, Mister Microscope,” Twilight replied, looking down as she fidgeted her forehooves.

“Do not worry, dear Twilight. You have given me enough information to continue my investigation,” answered Microscope softly.

“I did?”

“Yes, my dear. And now do allow me to leave.” He bowed his head. “I appreciate your help. I’ll continue my investigation here in Ponyville.” With his piece said he walked off.

Spike gave Twilight a very dry expression, though inwardly he was smiling that the stallion had left, his cologne going with him. “What’s gotten into you, Twilight? What was with that whole staring at him like a kitten in love, huh?”

“I don’t know, Spike.. He’s just so... There was just something nice about him..”

“Was not.”

Twilight's eyes narrowed in a jocular way. “Are you jealous, Spike?”

“No,” he groaned. “Oh, hey, look. A letter. A real one this time,” he continued, his tone so dry it made Twilight thirsty. “Let’s get on with it – we’ve already wasted too much time. We’re making Derpy and the ‘consignees’ wait, and that is such a shame. Woe unto us for that. Woe is me.”

Twilight’s nose involuntary crinkled, forcing large gulps of air down her throat. The mental image of Microscope suddenly got a lot less dreamy and a lot more creepy.

*****

The world of the nocturnal awoke for another night as Twilight and Spike ambled through the empty streets of Ponyville. Or perhaps it was not so empty.

“Hi girls. What are you talking about?” Twilight inquired, cantering up next to a small selection of her closest friends as they stood under a streetlight, conversing amongst themselves as they were.

The three mares turned their heads to Twilight. “Howdy, Twilight!” welcomed Applejack, an orange mare with a blonde mane. She tipped her Stetson to accentuate the greeting.

“We are just talking about some guy we all meet today!” chirped a bubbly mare with pale pink coat and a dark pink mane – Pinkie Pie

“Y-yes, a-a stallion,” added Fluttershy, her long light pink mane half-hiding her face as she spoke.

Twilight shot them each a puzzled expression “Did he just so happen to have a light brown mane and black-rimmed glasses?”

They all blinked. “Oh, have you met him too?” Pinkie tweeted. “He’s awesome, isn’t he?”

“I still don’t get what’s so ‘awesome’ about him, Pinkie. He seemed like an ordinary stallion to me,” said Applejack. “To be honest, he was more than just a lil’ creepy.”

“There certainly was something off about him, Pinkie,” Twilight picked up.

“Oh, come on! It’s his cologne that makes you all crazy about him,” Spike groaned, throwing his hands into the air.

Everyone accosted Spike with the same curious expression “What cologne?” asked Twilight.

Spike rolled his eyes, dryly sighing, “What? Don’t tell me you didn’t notice that scent. It nearly drove me mad. Gave me the strangest craving for his kneecaps.”

Pinkie cocked her head to the side. “I don’t remember any cologne.”

Applejack glanced at her hooves. “I think I remember some sweet swell in the air,” she said. “I think it smelt like… a Narcissus Flower’s scent, maybe?” Spike nodded, his expression a tacit concurrence with her.

“Wait a minute, how do you know what narcissus flower smells like?” Twilight asked, arching a brow at Applejack. “I thought you weren't into flowers, AJ.”

“Well, you see...,” Applejack mumbled, scratching back of her head. “I was helping Rose and Lily with their garden yesterday, a-and I... Look, that kinda flower ain’t just something you can forget. Now can we just leave it at that?”

Twilight closed her eyes, exhaling a large breath as she tried to best her to remember. “You know, I was about to say that magical charming colognes don't exist, but” – she looked at Pinkie Pie – “I’ve learned enough not to disbelieve something simply because it doesn’t have a base in facts – at least not yet.” Spike rolled his eyes.

“So, you agree that he’s awesome?” Pinkie inquired, a devious smirk plastered across her muzzle.

“You’re missin’ a point here, sugar cube,” Applejack intoned.

Fluttershy took a step forward. “I… I had, um, the same reaction; the same feeling,” she said in at a volume barely above a whisper, blushing. “But then I saw reaction of my animals.” She licked her lips. “They were… afraid. Then I realized something… his eyes” – a slight shiver shook her knees – “for a second his pupils narrowed and-” She opened her mouth by a hair’s breadth, shuffling her bottom jaw side-to-side before saying anything further. “They became like, well, like a cat’s.”

Nopony spoke for what felt like a minute. The silence was ear-splitting.

“Sugar cube, now you’re just imagining things,” Applejack replied, her tone vaguely dry.

“No, I didn’t. When his pupils became like that-” Fluttershy took a deep breath. “He turned tail and galloped off – he didn’t even say a goodbye.”

The long silence was broken by Pinkie Pie. “I wish I could do that with my eyes! It’d be AWESOME!” The others shook their heads at her little outburst.

“Anyway,” said Twilight, “I think we all are worrying about trifles. Though I am curious, what did he ask you about?”

“The Elements of Harmony,” the three mares answered simultaneously.

“He asked us all how we got our Elements!” Pinkie chittered.

“You too?” Twilight muttered. “Well, I guess he did tell me he was going to ‘continue his investigation’, so that would make sense. Did he ask you anything in particular?”

“Just about the Elements, nothin’ other than that. He hardly pursued any line of questions after that,” Applejack replied.

“I see.”

“Hey, Twilight? Can we please go. I’m sure it was nothing and I’m tired,” Spike whined.

Twilight sighed. “Spike’s got a point. We’ve been working all day long. Look, we can talk about this later, deal?”

“Deal,” they all replied.

*****

The moon stood guard over the world below; her dance music the singing of cicadas, the chirps of bats, and the croak of frogs. A lonesome hill stood watch over the hamlet of Ponyville, and on this hill stood a stallion.

His coat the color of newborn grass; his tightly worn mane a shade of dark green, decorated with a respectably sized and pink narcissus flower. His equally pink eyes positively glistened as they bathed in the pale moonlight.

The standing stallion turned around, his ears perking to the approaching sound of another. This newcomer was a slender stallion with glasses. His expression was less-than a smile.

“How eez it all came through, beau?” singsonged the standing stallion.

“Better than I expected,” remarked Cauterium, walking up next to the one who had been standing. “But my worst fears may well have been confirmed.” His voice changed, becoming sharp, his words marred by a tinge of double-meaning. “By the way, Narcissus, your perfume worked well.”

Narcissus chuckled, his tone wry. “Of course eet eez, godiche! Mon perfumes always works! Dzis is my specialty, after all!”

Cauterium smiled. “Too good, to be exact. Some of those stupid girls couldn’t even mumble a word to me. You need to develop better doses.”

“My dozes are perfect, godiche!” Narcissus exclaimed, wrinkling his nose for effect. “Eet eez just your natural charm, beau, that caught dzeir attencion!”

“’Natural Charm’ my flank! I was hardly holding myself back from insulting those bumbling – literally! – morons. Plus, I almost – no, actually – revealed my true eyes, no doubt scaring the Element of Kindness.”

“Heh, good ol’ Cauterium. You are always able to hold dzat mask of yours, n'est-il pas? But looks like you learned something interesting from dzis pegasus? Your true eyes showing only in anger and excitement, do they not?”

Cauterium gritted his teeth as he glared at Narcissus. “How many times do I have to tell you to not call me by that name, Narcissus?”

“Oh, beau, don’t get angry over trifles. Old habits are difficult to eradicate,” Narcissus cooed. “So, you said dzat your worst fears been confirmed, beau? What do you mean by dzat?”

Cauterium glanced at the virgin moon. “That the you-know-what cannot activate unless we find suitable hosts for the Elements we have. Even my tech’s no good unless we get that little matter settled. Moreover, the Elements themselves must choose their wielders.”

Narcissus slumped his head to the ground, holding a hoof over his eyes as his head shook. “That ees, we must find dze five wielders to coax dze last Element to appear? And dze Elements must choose wielders themselves?”

Cauterium licked his lips as he leered at the town below, his mouth soon curling into a devious smirk. “No one said we couldn’t help them choose. So why don’t we?”

Chapter Two: Cerchens

White room. Black furniture. That sterile light. It was a prison by any other name, just one without locks or bars, the inmate keeping himself in. But to Cauterium, this place was home, as it had been for good many years. Only in his home, his gilded and self-imposed cage, are his thoughts truly one; only there do the monsters go away; only there does his mind unfurl itself and sun, bringing with it all of Cau’s genius.

For it was Cauterium ‘Cau’ who had been sentenced to death. He had often asked himself what crime he had committed, the deafening silence being his only answer in those darkest times. For him there was but one hope: that he defeat his enemy, thus earning his clemency.

For it was Cauterium who could pass his sentence onto his foe. He could buy his life by taking those which stood before him, for his life was already forfeit. And should he fail, he would not only condemn himself but his country and all he holds dear.

To Cau, only death, despair, and enslavement of his countrymen awaited him should he fail or falter. He made no illusions: he was a dead stallion walking. His only choice was to die fighting, or to survive it – and he was already dead. He had been dead since before he had moved to Equestria; since when he had helped create a political entity that sought world domination through slavery and genocide. It was him home, and he would die to defend it. It was only too convenient that he was already without life.

Cau shook his head, clearing his head of his morbid reality. To his left was a light-green stallion with a huge Narcissus Flower in his mane. Narcissus was taking in the deathly sights and sounds with the utmost less-than grace.

“Ohhh, beau! Don’t tell moi dzat this lair is your residence!” Narcissus wrinkled his nose and gagged at the layers upon layers of caked dust. “Dzis place needs a wrap up, beau! Look how much dirt dzere is!” He gestured at the light. “Dzis light is dangerous for your eyes, beau! No wonder dzat you have your glasses always on! You should-“

“WILL YOU JUST SHUT UP?” Cau barked.

Narcissus rolled his eyes, cooing, “Oh, Beau! Don’t be so nervous. Moi just cares about you!”

Cau sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Just-just keep quiet for a minute – please! I need to focus.” He slowly approached the mechanism that made up the room’s centerpiece. There were six gemstones, all wired together, but only five glowed with an ethereal light; the sixth gem did not gleam, for it yet waited for a host.

Cauterium pursed his lips to the side, sticking his tongue out by the thinnest of margins. His brow furrowed in concentration as he observed the device with an almost lustful gaze.

“Is dzat your precious device, beau?”

“No, it’s my vending machine. I use it to serve all the snazziest soda in all of Equestria. Would you like a Diet Rocky Dew?”

A moment of silence.

“Of course it is, genius! What else would it be?”

“Oh, you are nervous again, beau! Calm down. Moi just likes to hear you answer.”

Cau sighed, grinding his teeth as he attempted to block Narcissus out. In an attempt to ignore his twittering compatriot, he grabbed at one of the gems in a field his magic. His particular selection was a crimson and heart-shaped ruby, simultaneously disconnecting the associated wires, as he picked it up. Concentration still well and dandy, he proceeded to repeat the process with the remaining four gems, leaving the final gem, the one without a light, to its own devices.

As the gems floated in air, bobbing up and down as they defied Sir Isaac Newton, Narcissus found himself staring at them.

“The gems of Clarity are just too fascinating,” Narcissus mumbled, eyes unwilling to leave the gems.

Cau cracked a smirk. “Their aesthetics are less-than pressing as far as I’m concerned; it is their ability that harbors my interest.” He chuckled.“ Small wonder why they tried to keep them from my hoofs. Though I must admit, they didn’t put up a fight once I ‘liberated’ them.”

“They’re like changelings, no? Taking on the forms and powers of others. Truly a natural wonder, n'est-il pas?” Narcissus replied in an absentminded tone.

“And now,” Cau chuckled,” now it is filled with information – info on the Elements.” He licked his lips. “Now all we’ve to do is find our fellow comrades-in-arms.”

Narcissus shook his head. “Eet shall be a difficult task, beau. Loyalty, Laughter, Generosity, Kindness, and Honesty. Even if we find ponies dzat are worthy, dzey will not necessarily support your ideals.”

Cau only smiled. “Do you really think that I didn’t calculate that into my plans?”

“Dzen what are you going to do, beau?” Narcissu inquired, tilting his head a few degrees to the side.

“Just watch,” Cau responded, trotting over to a black box in an odd corner of the room. In place of a lock, there was a large hole. Cau made as if to ram the box, only to prod his horn into the container, giving a pulse of magic to activate it.

With a sickly green flash, the chest opened.

“Ou, beau... W-what ees dzat dzing?” Narcissus gasped.

By the emerald green of Cau’s magic, a gemstone rose into the air. The gem was spherical, its surface blacker than the darkest, most moonless night. Within its confines swirled a black, smoke, sedimentary mass of energy – bringing to mind the image of a Tesla coil. The gem looked evil, it felt evil; even the light seemed to shy away from it.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Cau murmured.

“No, beau.” Narcissus gulped. “Eet ees… Eet ees Firstborn Darkness! Eet ees horrible!” Just looking into it, Narcissus felt his soul being torn away from his body, consumed by the raw blackness of infinite night. It was as though dark, hungry fiend had reached out to him, deciding it was him that it would violate with its etched tendrils of shadow.

“You’re smarter than you look, Narcissus. This IS a part of Firstborn Darkness.”

“But where did you get this?”

“I, uh, ‘borrowed’ it from the Garden of the Truth, along with Gems of Clarity.” Cauterium flashed Narcissus an evil grin.

“Those Treowth guys has DZAT dangerous thing in the Garden?”

Cau’s grin didn’t even falter. “You’re surprised? Those freaks get everything and anything, no matter how dangerous it might be, for their research. What else would you expect for ‘Celestia’s finest’?”

“But what are YOU going to do with dzis, beau?” Narcissus asked, taking a single step back.

“Just watch. I’ll going to change these Elements of so-called 'goodness' for, heh, good.”

*****

A bird, a mockingbird, sang his song outside a Ponyville window - a window on a building that ostensibly was a tree. Within the tree, however, was a library.

“Just five more minutes,” Twilight groaned, rolling over, eyes not even open. The mocking bird insisted.

“Wha’ she sssaid,” Spike agreed through a drowsy slur.

The mocking bird insisted that Twilight pay attention to its “beautiful song”, going as far as to hop through the window and onto her bed. Twilight slowly opened her eyes to face the music of the morrow – and the bird.

“Shut up!” she growled, throwing her pillow at the bird. The bird squawked as the mass of fluff impacted him, sending him tumbling to the floor. It sputtered around on the floor before righting itself and yelling curses in its bird language to Twilight who, unfortunately for the mockingbird, did not speak bird.

Twilight grumbled something about getting an electric bird fence put up around her house as she crossed her arms and used them as an impromptu pillow.

Somepony rapped upon her front door; Twilight did not heed it. It came again. And again. Until finally Twilight rolled her way out of the warmth of the covers and into the coldness of her library.

Twilight lolled her head about, craneing a bit of stiffness out from the night prior. The knocker rapped again. “I’m coming, I’m coming,” she called out, shuffling her hooves and yawning the last bits of drowse out of her system.

With a frown, she walked by her vanity, seeing how messed up her mane was. She casually ran a hoof through it, getting ride of the worst offenders amongst it.

The clopping of her hooves remained her nigh silent companion. And then, finally, “M-may I help you?”

A mare stepped forwards through the wooden portal. The god-rays reflected off the glasses on her nose as she bowed her head. Her coat was a mix of azure and faint white stains; her mane was a keen grayish-blue hue, topped off with multiple braids. Her cutie mark depicted two crossed scrolls. The only other notable feature of this mare was a silver chain and clock hanging around the mare’s neck.

“Good morning. My name iz Azure Knowledge,” she offered, her tone very matter-of-fact. “You may call me Azure, Mizz Twilight Sparkle.”

“What’s the ruckus about?” someone called out from somewhere behind Twilight. She glanced over her shoulder to see Spike standing on the stairs, rubbing his eyes, a blank expression on his face.

“Morning, Spike. We seem to have guests.”

“Oh,” he replied, walking off in a seemingly random direction.

“So, um, okay, uh, Miss Azure, do you need something from the library?” Twilight inquired.

Azure shook her head. “Not today, Mizz Twilight.” She bowed her head slightly. “We only have some queztions to ask you.”

“What kind of questions?” Spike asked, suddenly reappearing by Twilight’s side, evoking a small jump from Twilight.

Azure turned her head to incredibly bulky unicorn, her sole companion. His coat was faint lavender, while his mane was dark lavender. The stallion gestured to his cutie mark, a large red-top and white-bottom pill. The way his almost buggy eyes lazily looked about gave Twilight the impression he was dead-tired, a thought contradicted by most everything else about him.

“Doctor Power Pill,” Azure asked, “pleaze show them.”

“Of course,” ‘Doc’ replied, his voice a deep baritone that was strangely calm, almost affectionate in its tone, a curious contrast to his huge bulk. A soft purple light found itself encasing his horn, that same light opened up his saddlebag and levitated out a poster.

The poster floated through the air to Twilight. Thinking her eyes were still adjusting to the light, she fluttered her eyelids. When the image stayed whom she thought it was, she gasped. It was that same light-brown stallion with glasses from the day before.

Twilight adjusted her jaw back to where it belonged, saying, “Y-yes, we have seen this stallion. W-why do you ask?”

Azure Knowledge took a step forwards. “Thiz ztallion is a zuzpect of a crime, mizz Twilight.”

“What kind of crime?” Spike asked, a puzzled expression dominating his features.

Azure blinked, holding her eyes shut for a solid three seconds as she let out a long exhale. “About a week ago, zomeone broke into the Garden of Truth and ztole the Academy’s property. Zix Gems of Clarity, to be exact.” Twilight’s left eye twitched as her jaw fell to the floor.

“Hey, Twilight,” Spike whispered, “what is she talking about?” He elbowed her. “Hey, you okay?”

Twilight shook her head as if drying it of water. “Y-yeah, I’m fine.” She bit her bottom lip. “I’ll tell you later, okay?” Spike rolled his eyes, groaning as he nodded. Twilight turned her attention back to Azure. “Why do you suspect Microscope?” Twilight asked.

“M-Microzcope? We don’t zuspect the headmaster,” Azure replied, cocking a brow into the air.

“No? But-” Twilight started, only to be cut off by Dr. Power Pill.

“Miss Twilight,” he stated, his done lacking any inflection. “Please tell us how you met the stallion from the picture”.

“Ok, here goes,” Twilight replied.

In the span of a few minutes Twilight recounted her brief experience with the stallion from yesterday, conveniently leaving out the parts where she had really weird feeling towards him. Azure intently stared at her the whole while, Azure taking brief notes in a little booklet.

“It that’s all?” the Doc inquired as Twilight finished. Twilight nodded.

“Well there is one thing,” Spike added. Twilight shot him a vaguely concerned expression.

“I’m listening,” Power stated, his expression nigh impossible to read.

Spike scratched at the back of his neck “Now I know how silly this sounds, but is it possible for this stallion to have some kind of magical cologne? I ask ‘cause that guy on the picture there had a very, very weird scent about him. Made me want to bite him, but apparently made a few mares in town woozy.” Spike darted his eyes about, taking care not to meet Twilight’s gaze. While Twilight rolled her eyes at the preposterous convention, Power and Azure exchanged nervous glances.

“Not cologne, but pozzibly perfume,” Azure absent-mindedly mumbled under her breath.

The Doc, on the other hoof, bowed his head to Spike. “Thank you, little guy. We’ll be sure to keep that thought in mind.” He turned to look at Twilight. “Is that all, Miss Twilight?”

Twilight nodded her head. “That I can think of, yes. B-but he spoke with my friends. You may want to ask them if they know anything t-that could help.”

Power Pill nodded. “Thank you. Now listen to me, Miss Twilight. This stallion is a genius and a scientist - a very good scientist at that. He went missing around the same time the Gems of Clarity were yoinked from Garden of Truth. We, the Cerchens, zuspect him of stealing them – though for a number of reason other than just the coincidence, all of which, I’m afraid to say, are confidential. If you see him again, please don’t hesitate to contact us.” He glanced to his companion. “Azure, dear, would you?”

“Of courze!” Azure chirped, opening up her saddlebag and pulling out a bronze cube with complementary key, hoofing both over to Twilight. “In order to get in contact with us just use this dollbox. Simply turn the key three timez; you will know what to do next.”

Twilight accepted the box in a field of magic, exchanged a confused glance with Spike in the meanwhile.

“Now, we shall be on our way,” Power Pill said. As the two began to walk away, Power stopped and turned his head to Twilight. “By the way, my name is Doctor Power Pill, but msot ponies call me ‘the Doc’ or just ‘Doc’. It was a pleasure to meet a legend like you, Miss Twilight.” He made a motion as if tipping an invisible hat to her, then walked away for good.

“Okay, Twilight, tell me what that look was about. You know, the one you made with regards to the Garden of whatchamacallit,” Spike asked, closing the door for his mistress.

“The Garden of Truth is essentially the scientific think tank of Equestria, Celestia’s best and brightest train and study there,” Twilight explained, trotting back into her library.

“If that’s true, then why didn’t you go there, hm?”

Twilight rolled her eyes. “Because that’s for science and technology. As passionate as I am about the sciences, I’m a sorceress at heart – something for which princess Celestia is without peer. While the boundaries between magic and science are vague at best, they remain two distinct disciplines at their core. Anyways, it only made too much sense to go into the magical arts, and with Celestia my teacher – well, the rest is history to you.

“Ya-huh,” Spike deadpanned. “And of the Gardens themselves?”

Twilight made a playful sigh. “You didn’t happen to read that little book I gave you two weeks ago, did you?”

“Um... I plead the fifth.”

Twilight chuckled, “Whatever.” She marched up her stairs, taking care to make sure there were no more sleep-hating mockingbirds milling about.

“Let’s, uh, let’s say I didn’t read the book – hypothetically, of course. How’d you explain it to me were that the cast – which it totally isn’t,” Spike continued, trotting up after Twilight.

Twilight frowned. “You see, Spike, the Garden of Truth is amongst the most well-protected places in all of Equestria. It holds wonders beyond the imagination, Spike. Some even say it holds technology that Equestria isn’t ready – they say that some of which, in the wrong hooves, can be used as devastating weapons.” Twilight gave a slow, almost remorseful shake of her head. “I believed it was impossible to steal from them, let alone get away with it.” The right corner of her mouth twitched. “Shows what I know, huh?”

Spike groaned. “What’s the problem, Twilight? It’s their problem, not ours. Besides, I’m pretty sure if what was stolen was really, really serious then Princess Celestia would be having every available pony after it. I’m sure it was probably a device that turned oak trees into larches.” He shivered. “The larch, the most evil of all trees. I still have nightmares about those.”

Twilight rolled her eyes and ambled back down the stairs, beginning to pace all about the library as Spike stared at her from the second floor. “But what if he did steal something dangerous? What if Equestria really is in danger?”

“Pffft. You’re worrying too much. Besides, there’s probably nothing we can do about it. Leave it to those Cherchen guys. They probably got their jobs for a reason, you know.”

Twilight shook her head side-to-side, kicking the thoughts from the forefront of her mind to its back. “You know what, Spike? You’re right. Just think of where I’d be if I had let every little thing get to me – and please don’t bring up the times when I did let it happen.” She flashed Spike an oversized grin.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, where she had pushed her dark thoughts, a voice rang forth, uttering a strident reminder. In a loud voice, it called out, “And if you hadn’t followed your instincts, just think of where your brother and sister-in-law would be.” Twilight did her best to ignore the itch of paranoia clawing from within her skull.

It refused to leave her alone. Despite her most supreme of efforts, the thought remained a constant, buzzing reminder of the grim reality of what happened when she ignored her honed instincts. The paranoia just simmered there, itching, scratching, burning, and clawing at the back of her mind to the point where Twilight physically scratched the back of her head.

“Now with that settled,” Twilight chirped, “let’s start the day!” She pulled a large, fat scroll seemingly out of the aether. “Step one: wake up – check!”

*****

“Zo, the report waz right,” Azure sighed, cantering through the busy streets of Ponyville alongside the giant Power Pill. “But what doez he need information on the Elementz of Harmony for? Thatz what I want to know.”

“A good question, but let’s not get distracted from the point. It was him, that’s a fact now,” the Doc offered, a hint of a drawl dancing through his words.

“Well, it doeznt zurprize me!” she snapped. “He’z alwayz been obzezzed with thoze damnable gemz!”

Doc glanced at the Ponyville town hall before looking back to his companion. “And it seems like Narcissus has gone with him.”

“What do you mean?” Azure inquired, pursing her lips to the side.

He sighed. “Think about it. Who help in the whole of Equestria would have not only the gall but the knowhow on how mix such a brew, eh?

Azure gritted her teeth. “You know what? That makez zense.” She stomped a hoof on the dirt. “Narcizzuz, you sneaky b-”

“Indeed,” Power interjected. “Narcissus was the only one to really converse with Cauterium.” He frowned. “Well, except you that is.” He shook his head. “ Furthermore, Narcissus is the only one who ever showed Cau any sympathy... kinda.”

“You’re preaching to the converted,” Azure remarked, casually dodging out of the way of a particularly clumsy carriage puller.

Doc sighed. “You know as well as I do that those were geniuses. I haven’t the foggiest as to what they’re doing, but I can guarantee that it won’t be pretty.”

Azure shifted her eyes towards the heavens. “What are we going to do now, Doctor? I’m open to any suggestions.”

Power Pill gritted his teeth and shrugged. “Nothing pertinent. All we can do is follow the breadcrumbs and hope that pa abandons our wicked stepmother at the end, so to speak. Knowing our luck, we’ll probably get eaten by the witch. I can say this, though: we must find and apprehend him, no matter the cost. He has shard of firstborn darkness. Celestia only knows what he’s going to do with it... And not even our princess dearest knows.”

Chapter Four: Pills, Dolls and Lightning

The god-rays pierced through the heavens like a bullet, bathing the land in a sea of light, feeding plants and the hopes of ponies alike. Warm rays from up above tore across the horizon, leaving a trail of carnage through the marigold-like cloud layer. And yet there were those who vehemently opposed the face of light – the remaining cover of clouds that stubbornly clung to existence

As was tradition, someone had to clear the cloud layer, making headway for the sun’s rays. A bulbous, fluffy mass of white exploded, leaving behind a thin wisp mist that just as soon evaporated in the daylight heat.

A pegasus mare shook her short-cut mane free of lingering wisp of cumulonimbus, shaking her rainbow-like mane and tail. Her lean and tone toned light-blue body glistening with cloud-borne moisture in the morning light. As she flew through the air, one would be hard-pressed not to notice her cutie mark: a cloud spewing a red, gold, and blue lightning bolt.

She could be but one pony: Rainbow Dash.

Her eyes stole a hungry glance at the sky around her, sizing up her prey, for she was the hunter. A bead of sweat rolled down her face, dripping down and plunging nigh a mile to the ground. The prey was slow, unmoving – a defenseless calf amongst a sea of bulls.

Rainbow Dash tore the sky asunder, her peripheral vision becoming a melange of blurred and undistinguished colors, the only thing she could see clearly was her target. And the prey was unaware it was even being watched.

Teeth bared, muscles tightened, she was upon the calf. She pivoted her wings up, sending her body twisting 180 degrees around and curled her hind legs back. Her wings pulled to near her side, sending her careening towards the newborn, her belly to the sky and legs ready to seize.

The calf never saw it coming. Dash bucked, her buck compounded in force by her impossible speed, breaking the prey’s neck and separating it from the body. Her momentum maintained, she tore its entire body in half.

Dash flared her wings, bringing herself to a jolting stop. Her prey lying dead and mutilated, it was time to feast. To feast, that is, on a concoction of pride and lactic acids, the wisps of the corpse-cloud swirling around it as it evaporating into aether.

Her body rose up and down in the air with an almost tidal rhythm caused by both her heavy panting and the beat of her wings. Before her stood a seemingly endless ocean of white, occasionally broken up by islands of green. The clouds seemed to be trying to strangle the patches of cloudless sky as they continued to breed and multiply.

Head lolling to the side, she groaned, “Great. All day. All flippin’ day this is gonna take.” Dash glanced at her shoulder, around which a specific patch was wrapped around, a golden star on a red background, indicating she was the leader of the Ponyville Weather Patrol. Today, unlike all other days, the Weather Patrol consisted of the entire pegasus population of Ponyville, the majority of them having been drafted for the word; why it was so important that everypony had to help out was a mystery to her – and it certainly wasn’t a mystery to her because she fell asleep during briefing. Honest.

Dash slapped a hoof to her face, groaning at her accursed luck. She and her big mouth had gotten herself the role of clearing the vast majority of the sky that day. Not that others weren't helping her – they were – but it didn’t make her any more happy about everything. And she’d make damn sure that everypony was doing their part, especially if it meant getting done faster so that she could go back to her nearly-perpetual naps.

She scanned the skies again, looking for the nearest cloud, only to have her attention drawn to a strange dark marring on a cloud. Her interest piqued, and sense of duty conveniently forgotten, she ducked forward and darted at the strange object.

One of the many things they taught young pegasi in flight camp was how to distinguish types of clouds. Almost out of pure memory, Rainbow Dash could recite the names, definitions, and descriptions of every type of cloud in the sky. And little black dots on a white background did not register as any such cloud.

As she neared the curious mar, she could more easily see what the object was: a napping pegasus. Her face scrunched with pure extreme annoyance as she reached him, close enough to hear his snores.

Rainbow Dash took a quick second to regard the offending pegasus with her eyes. He was young, not a colt, but calling him a proper stallion might have been pushing it. The word “buck” sprang to her mind as an adequate compromise between the two words. His coat was a faint black-grey like the color of storm clouds, his wild and uncombed mane and tail bearing an uncanny resemblance to a streak of fire.

Gradually her eyes drifted to his wings, which were deceptively well-strung for a buck his age. Then her eyes dropped to his cutie mark: a storm cloud with a sanguine-esque thunderbolt. She frowned at its similarity to her own cutie mark. His legs were wrapped in a taut, black blanket, giving him an almost darling appearance when coupled with his cute snores. This, of course, had to be stopped, and Rainbow Dash was on the job, repercussions be damned.

She cleared her throat, put her forehooves on him, and shouted, “Hey you! Wake up!”

With an infuriating hesitance, the buck cocked an eye open. The brown eye slowly shifted to the light blue mare hovering before him. “Ya know, if not for the fact you’re yelling at me, violently shaking me like a retarded girl might a bunny, I might’ve assumed you were an angel.”

“Get your lazy flank up! We’ve got clouds to clear,” Dash said.

Opening his other eyes, he scanned the admittedly stuffed cloud layer. Tapping a hoof to his jaw, he considered the order. “Nah.” He shut both eyes, turned over as to not face the bossy mare.

She sighed. Then she said in an incredibly reasonable tone, “Look, buddy, I get it, I really do: you’re unhappy about-” Dash made a circular gestured with a hoof “-this whole ‘every pegasu is now legally obligated to help clear the weather do to some impending disaster or whatever’ deal. But the more of who work to fix this up today, the faster we’ll all get done.”

He yawned “You’ve got a big mouth, lady. Keep chatting and I’ll tell you where it might find better use.”

Dash’s eye twitched. “Alright that’s it! Wake up!” No response. Grinding her teeth, she spun around and bucked his cloud bed, utterly disintegrated it and forcing him into the air. The air below was at a glacial temperature, the wind speeds enough to blow a huge sailboat to whichever end of the horizon it so desired. A fact which Rainbow Dash failed to considered until he was already falling into it.

Rather than be sucked away by the gale, he flared his wings, twisted them at angles beyond awkward as he spun into a backflip. For a brief moment he was weightless in the nigh-jetstream current, just hovering there. And for another moment, Dash was almost awed – it took some matter of skill and wing strength to even withstand those wind speeds, let alone actually hover in them without breaking a sweat.

He dashed out of the current, up to Rainbow Dash. “Cute and mean. You sure do take the cake, lady.”

“Lady‽” Dash scoffed, indigent. “Just who the hay are you‽”

The buck laid down on a cloud, his left side on the cloud while his front faced her like an old French painting. “Me? That name’s Crimson Thunder.”

“Well then, Crimson Thunder, ya wanna get off your lazy flank and help out around here?”

Crimson scratched at his head and shrugged. “It seems you have me at a disadvantage, Miss...?”

Dash scoffed, “Oh, so now you’re being nice?”

He flashed her a toothy grin. “I like to know names. That a problem, oh great boss mare?”

“Rainbow Dash,” she replied through gritted teeth.

He leapt up and into the air. “Well then, Ms. Rainbow Dash. Let me offer you a formal letter, in vocal verbatim, of how I feel about that. ‘Go buck yourself. And if you need eight hooves, yours and mine, I’d be happy to assist – emphasis on the first syllable’.”

A seething well of white-hot rage boiled to the surface of Dash’s eye, melting her corneas and replacing them with a foamy, frothy mix of hate. “Every. Pegasus. Must. Help. Clear. The. Skies,” she growled through clenched teeth. She shoved herself into his face, his expression remaining bored. “It’s an order from Princess Celestia herself!”

“Either kiss me or get out of my airspace.”

She recoiled her head back. “I’m not gonna kiss you!”

“Then keep your distance,” he coolly replied.

“Well then clear the skies!”

Crimson rolled his eyes. “Lemme spell it out for you, sweetie. I’m gonna go back to sleep and you’re gonna go back to being bossy-” he pointed a hoof to his left “-over there. We clear?”

“No!”

“Uh, uh, uh, the correct response is ‘crystal’, or ‘crystal clear’.” He shook his head, a mock expression of sorrow on his muzzle. “Looks like you failed your exam. Tsk, tsk, tsk, another year of summer school for you, Missie.”

“It’s an order forms Princess Celestia herself!” Dash retorted, struggling not to strangle Crimson Thunder.

He sighed. “Celestia, Shmolestia. Who gives a flying buck about orders, huh?” Crimson shrugged. “This whole cloud clearing and actually doing work business is boring anyways. And it’s not like I actually care about the Solar Princess worth a bit, anyhow.”

“How dare you talk about Princess Celestia like that!” Dash snarled, physically restraining herself from bucking him right in his smug face.

His expression slowly began contorting with indignation. “And why can’t you do it?”

“Because I need eveypony’s help!”

“So... because you’re incompetent, hmm?”

“I am not incompetent! You need to do work and-”

“Work?” he laughed. “I don’t know what that even is! I’m sorry, I don’t speak incompetent vixen!”

“Why you-” Dash screamed.

“You’ll have to explain your fascinating, bizarro language to me. I’m not familiar with your culture, especially since I’m actually competent,” Crimson said, his maw seeping condescension. “Tell me of your rich heritage of incompetence and idiocy! Sing to me in your native buckin’ idiot songs-”

“Shut your bucking mouth, you-”

“PAINT ME A TAPESTRY SO THAT I MIGHT EXPERIENCE THE BEAUTIFUL ART OF THE INCOMPETENT VIXEN PONIES!”

“What is wrong with you‽”

“You will leave me alone this instant and let me sleep, got it‽” he snarled, jumping up onto a small cloud and punching at another cloud, like a completely reasonable pony would.

“I’ll leave you alone only after you get to work! We clear‽”

“Molestia-ing Celestia! Will you just shut up up! Your dang mouth is like my mother’s lap!”

“And what does that mean‽”

“A place where only disappointment comes out of!”

She shook her head. “I don’t know whether to be offended, disgusted, or sorry for you.”

“That’s what she said,” Crimson replied, giving a sagely nod of his head.

“That’s what I said,” she said.

“Can it! Don’t tell me what I said. If I wanted to know your opinion, I would have beaten it out of you.”

Rainbow Dash opened her mouth, a rebuttal prepared, only for no sound to come out. A twinkle in her revealed that inner workings of her devious mind. “Okay, let’s take a step back here, kay?”

“Yeah, sure,” he replied through bouts of panting.

She locked her eyes with his. “How about we settle this with a little bet? Equo y equo, eh?”

A spark of elation came to life beneath his brown irises. “I like the sound of that, lady. Name the game.”

“A race to-” she pointed a hoof to the snowy mountain peak, at least a mile away “-that mountaintop.” She pointed a hoof to herself. “If and when I win, you have to get off your lazy rear and get to work, and-”

“If I win, you leave me alone. And kiss me – on the lips.”

Dash recoiled her head back. “I’m not gonna kiss you!”

He shrugged, cooing, “Then that’s too bad. See, ‘cause I’m all game for this race, if you’re not then that means you forfeit. Victory automatically goes my way, dollface.” Dash grimaced as he hovered over to her, patting a hoof to her cheek. “What’s the matter, old maid-” her eyes exploded in an all-consuming conflagration that spread through her entire body, coursing through her veins like the rapids of the Coltorado River “-‘fraid of little ole me? ‘Fraid to get your big, tough flank kicked from here to high noon?”

“Kiss my flank!” she snarled. If Dash had possessed canines, she would’ve have bitten him as hard as she could have. Regardless, he recoiled his hoof at her outburst.

“Ya know,” he said, tone seeping in a frothy muck of condescension, “if that’s your fetish, we can arrange that into our deal, hm? ‘Cause I wouldn’t object to it – not even on both sides of the cutie mark.” Chest heaving with hate, she snatched him by the collar. “Woah, woah, don’t I have to buy you dinner first?”

“Listen here, you little twerp! We’re gonna race to the cliff! I am going to kick your bucking flank! You are going to clean every-flipping-one of these dang clouds if it takes ALL DAY! GOT IT‽”

“Oh, you’ll be gettin it alright, and gettin’ it hard – and the more you resist, the more shame I’ll bring you come the end,” Crimson growled.

“Care to put your money where your mouth is, kid?”

“I’d like nothing more,” he calmly replied. Rainbow Dash, still holding him the neck, physically dragged him over to a sizable, fluffy cloud. She let him go, practically throwing him to the ‘ground’.

Pointing to the cloud beneath them, she barked, “Starting here!” Crimson rolled to his hooves, striking a starting pose much like Dash was. “One your marks... Get set... Go!”

Dash flared her wings out to their fullest, hurdling her body forwards as she batted her well-used wings through the great blue yonder. She lived for speed, she lived for the air, she lived for racing. Nopony had ever beaten her when it came to sheer speed, and she intended to keep it that way.

Her peripherals a blurring mess of sky and cloud, she found the right corner of her mouth twisting into a nefarious smirk. The sound of the air being split asunder by her speed deafened her to all but her thoughts. A part of her, a part which she quickly dismissed, almost felt sorry for Crimson Thunder. Especially considering that he had started a fraction of a second after her, giving Dash a critical edge that he would likely not overcome.

In a moment of pride-over-logic, she glanced over her shoulder to see just how much dust Crimson was eating. The currents threatening to spin her around from her mis-angled head, her eyes bulged. The sight before her, or rather behind her, just so happened to be a pair of brown eyes.

“Hey there, buttercup!” Crimson chirped.

“You-bu-wh-how‽” Dash sputtered, almost tumbling out of the skies.

Cackling like a madstang, Crimson barreled past Dash, leaving her jaw open and catching the breeze. A thunderous aura surrounded him, bolts of red electricity surged around like a Tesla coil, all compacting into a conical shape that seemed to send the air screeching away from him.

Her wings almost refused to beat, her body freezing up with something akin to shock as she watched him careening through the atmosphere, turning into a speck as he neared the mountain.

For a brief moment he paused, allowing her to catch up. At a speed dangerously approaching the sound barrier, Dash stormed past him – the only thing she saw of him was a faint, cocky grin.

The sky exploded. Clouds for miles around evaporated as Crimson Thunder plunged into a conical, horizontal tornado of red lightning. It tore past Dash, the energy washing her and sending her mane on end with static. Her head stopped. It just sat there and died, its faculties clogged up with failing attempts to process what she was seeing.

Each second of flight felt like a brutal torture to Rainbow Dash. The air itself seemed as though it were purposefully hampering her. Gravity acted as though it had harpooned her through the gut and was trying to reel her into its slavering maw.

When at last she did reach the finish line, her body threatened to abandon her to fend for herself. Her blood pressure had skyrocketed, her pupils dilated to their logical extremes for a sunny day, and her voice box interpreted her commands as hostile and alien. Her chest heaved up and down with an almost epileptic fervor, her sweat threatening to blind her.

Crimson, on the other hoof, didn’t look nearly as tired – there wasn’t even a drop of sweat on his smug face. He just stood on the peak, building a snowpony, the body already finished and was complete with two coal eyes.

He angled his head to her. “Well looked who showed up to the party – late as usual, Ms. Dash.” He shook his head. Gob gooing with condescension, he continued, “I guess we’re gonna have to fail you from flight school. Tsk, tsk, tsk.”

“How did you-”

“Win? Simple: I’m better than you.” He glanced at his snowy creation and frowned. “Pity. It could use a nose.” Cocking a brow, he turned back to Dash, “Say, you wouldn’t happen to have something vaguely rod shaped, would you? Like, say, in your dresser?”

Dash gritted her teeth. “How. Did. You-”

“Oh, shove a sock in it.” He trotted up to her position on the snowcapped peak. “I believe you owe me a little something, hm?”

“I will not-” she tried, only to be violently grabbed by Crimson. Wrapping his a forehoof around here back to hold her wings down, and another forehoof to the back of her head, he shoved her lips to his.

Something inside Dash popped, snapped, cracked, sparked, and exploded all at once. Her right forehoof rose into the air and clashed against Crimson’s face with as much strength as she was worth – a strengh one would do well not to sneeze at.

With a loud popping sound of detaching lips, he was thrown to his back. Mouth open to the sky, it took him three seconds to fully comprehend what just happened.

Rubbing his mouth and bruised cheek with a hoof, he groaned, ”Ow.” He made a smacking sound with his mouth. “Huh. Did you know that your mouth tastes like electricity and berry-flavored yogurts?”

Dash’s expression deepened so hard that it threatened to cave her face in. “Listen here, you little disgusting pervert! I don't know who the hay you are-”

“Crimson Thunder,” he grumbled. “I already said that.”

“-but I want you out of my sight before-” she rose a hoof and shook it at him “-I decide to destroy that pretty, little face of yours with my hoof! Got it‽”

“My, my, my, is the old hag hitting on me now through unveiled threats?”

Dash stamped a hoof, eliciting a crunch from the snow beneath her. “Get. Out. Of. My. Sight!” she practically shrieked. Taking the message to heart, he rolled to his hooves and darted away through the air, tail tucked between his legs.

Seeing Crimson fly out of view, Dash collapsed to the ground into a sea of self-pity, tears threatening to well up in her eyes. Her her reason to exist was speed, and it had just been dismantled piece-by-bucking-piece by another pony.

Her whole life had been one big race to be the fastest; to join the Wonderbolts, the fastest pegasus in the whole of Equestria. It had been her life dream. And it an afternoon it had been crushed.

“Hey, Rainbow Dash? Ya okay?” a pony, another pegasus on the weather team, called out.

In an instant, Dash had put up a facade, hiding the threat of tears and wobbly legs behind her feigned arrogant posture. “Y-yeah!” she called back. “Yeah, I’m fine!”

*****

The birds remained silent in their trees which lined the road, watching the ponies standing off upon the dirt road.

“Well well, isn’t that our little Azure, Narcissus?” Cauterium remarked at Azure knowledge.

Narcissus, standin next to Cau, bowed his head. “Oh, mademoiselle! You ‘aven’t changed since our last meeting in HQ, n'est-il pas?”

Azure struggled to maintain her professional demeanor in lieu of a wall of anger frothing in her core. “Cauterium! By order of the High Five, we place you and Narcizzus under arrest! You are zuzpected of ztealing the Cerchen’s property and abuzing the headmazter’s influenze!”

“Good ol’ Azure! Oh how I missed the cute, little accent,” Cau replied, his tone brimming with condescension. “Oh, wait. I forgot. It’s not an accent, it’s a speech impediment. So sorry.”

Azure’s face contorted into a grimace, her cheek bristling with red. “H-how dare you‽”

Claude regarded each member of the Cerchen, his eyes seeming to deconstruct them at the atomic level. “Uh-huh. And these freaks are... who, exactly?”

“These nuts are from the ‘Cerchen’, a bunch of arrogant self-righteous fools,” Cau replied. He glanced at the Azure. “And a bunch of scientist who can’t guard their archaic secrets worth a damn!” He took a moment to bask in enjoyment at the sight of Azure’s face further twisting with spite.

A gigantic unicorn stepped forward, his ludicrous bulk practically shaking the earth around him. “So, you don't deny your crime and, in fact, openly admit it?”

Cauterium smirked. “Is that a problem, Doc?”

The Doc sighed, and then a devious little idea crossed his mind. “You’re one awful villain, ya know? The rules of villainy clearly state that you’ve gotta reveal your evil plan and admit your misdeeds right as you're about to kill or think your gonna win or whatever.” He shook his head. “You really are incompetent, aren’t you?” Cau’s left eye twitched. Doc gestured to Claude. “Who’s the earther and why’s he with you lot?”

“It just so happens and he and I share... ehh, a certain moral basis for which our burgeoning acquaintanceship is blooming forth.”

“Pity me for the added challenge on dragging you in as well,” Doc sighed, his rich, gravelly baritone tinged with a facade of sadness.

“And speaking of which,” Cau said, “just who the hay are you? You’re not exactly Little Miss Teapot. In fact I don’t think there’s anything little about you, fat ass.”

“How dare you inzu-” Azure snarled.

“Easy now, Azure,” Doc interjected, his tone as plain and to-the-point as ever. “My name is Doctor Power Pill, but most folks just call me ‘doctor’ or ‘doc’. I am the new commissar of the Truth Brigade.”

“Oh, is that so...?” Cau goaded, a bored expression plastered over his muzzle.

Claude stamped a hoof into the dirt. “Enough o’ this charade! Y’all a’ here to fight, ain’t ya? Then less talkie, more fightie. Capiche, ya freakin’ egg’ead marines!” Narcissus rolled his eyes.

Cau facehoofed. “I’m afraid it chagrins me to say it, but I must concur with Claude. We haven’t the time nor the lust to chat with you lot.”

“Doctor!” Azure barked. “Permission to-” she droned on about a plan of attack, but the Doc ignored her.

Power Pill had his attention rapt to the three outlaws before him. “It seems like our relations have failed us – you must be apprehend via force,” he stated, voice ringing with a vague undertone of condemnation. The Doc stepped to the side, revealing a small army of ponies in blue masks.

Cauterium’s face contorted into an epileptic fit of twitches for all of two seconds, when it was over his expression took on a savage, primordial look of a hunter about to feast upon his prey while it yet lived, enjoying every minute of the pained shrieks. Azure took a single glance at his newfound eyes and gasped, his eyes had turned into feral slits not unlike those of a cat’s.

“Why are his eyes like that, Narc?” Claude asked.

Narc’ leaned slightly to the side. “A ‘orrible thing. Dzat spell ee is using naw? It cost ‘im ees eyesight. It turned ‘is eyes like dzat, but cat-like eyes do not see so good as we ponies. Cauterium is ‘alf blind. Moi does not know how dze Nightmare even saw, those eyes are so ‘orrible. ”

“So it’s a disability?”

“Cau ‘as no depth perception and is cripplingly nearsighted. Not too long ago he was 20/20 in vision.” He shook his head. “Cauterium ees an idiot, moi swears to you. But zat spell is kind of ‘elpful, moi guesses. Et ees a case of risk versus reward.”

“Seize them,” the Doc ordered, his tone almost exceptionally indifferent. A watery stream of the twenty-some ponies marched around Doc and Azure, attempting to surround those who fought for anti-Harmony.

Claude shifted his legs and lowered his body, assuming a combative stance. He licked his lips with anticipation, he planned on enjoying their shrieks of agony – if they were that weak then they logically deserved it. Somepony tapped his shoulder.

“Whadda ya want, sugar boy?” Claude hissed at Narcissus, the offending poker.

“Moi does not think you shall be need ‘ere,” he replied.

Claude blinked, arching a brow. “Whaddya mean, sugar mane?” Narcissus merely gestured over his shoulders, gestured to Cauterium. Eyes following Narcissus’ gaze, he came to see why his talents wouldn’t be anything but extraneous.

A tsunami of green energy collided with the charging ponies, forcing them all to the ground, the strongest being sent into a stumble that ended on the ground. Cauterium spread his forehooves to their respective sides, making a T shape as his body was enveloped in a seething emerald glow.

His arms curled to the back of his head, his body reclining as if in a particularly comfortable sofa, hovering in the air the whole while. Eyes nonchalantly scanning the battlefield, Cau looked exceptionally bored, like a cat who had played his captive mouse to death and was trying to get it to squirm one last time before he ate it.

Out of the aether of emerald magic came three balls of same-colored fire. The spheres drifted and orbited around him of their own accord, Cau’s eyes transfixed on his metaphorical prize. By some unholy device, the spell-spheres seem to radiate pure malice and bad feelings. The Cerchen who foolishly gazed upon them for too long felt their souls being prodded at my an almost daemonic force. Even Power Pill felt something uncomfortable gnawing away at him from the inside.

Cauterium’s expression twisted into a malevolent grin as he raised a hoof skyward, a solitary fireball accompanying it. He flicked his wrist at a column of masked stallion, sending the ball of malice careening towards them.

Those who were too slow to dodge the attack, most of them, found themselves rolling around on the ground, screaming prayers to On High. “It’s non-lethal, you twits.”

Claude whistled as the flaming ponies stopped moving, their bodies utterly devoid of telltale burns.

“Break formation!” barked the tallest of the remaining masked ponies, making gestures to every-which-way the Cerchen divided, the five standing unicorns holding ground for missile support as the pegasi took to heaven, circling the Cauterium’s like a gang of vultures.

Combining their magic, the unicorns shot forth ethereal, white chains that wrapped around Cauterium. Caut rolled his eyes as the two lasting balls of fire fanned out, spreading through the magic chains and into their casters’ horns. The unicorns howled in unrepentant agony as the fae fire tore their souls, their magical essence, apart.

Wasting no time, the pegasi dove at Cauterium, their circle closing in on him for the kill. He chuckled as he teleported out at the last second, leaving the pegasi to collide head-first with each other, looking like total idiots as they rendered themselves incumbent upon the dirt where Cau once floated above.

“Finita la comedia!” Cauterium barked, hurling his second to last ball of fire into the mass of pegasi, sending them tumbling across the battlefield. “Seriously, guys, that’s all you can do? I mean granted, I didn’t expect all too much from what essentially amounted to a pack of trained thugs, but THIS? Come on!”

The Doc roused himself to his hooves, leering at Cau’s green cocoon of magic the whole while. “So, this is the famous 'Green Hunters' spell, Cauterium? I’ve heard tale of it and its technical status as a war crime, Cau. Ain't nopony supposed to just consume and siphon off another’s magic. I mean, who or what do you think you are? Some kinda energy vampire?”

“Call me as you will,” Cau snickered, “it’s hard to counter the fact that I’ve just won this battle.”

“See now, the problem is that you’ve got but one Hunter left, and I can see your magical aura fading. All I have to do-” he rubbed the bridge of his nose as if tightening a pair of glasses “-is outlast you. Something I’m very good at.”

Cauterium’s forehead furrowed. “You’re smarter than you look, fat ass. But I guess that’s not saying much, really. No matter, all I need is one to defeat you this day.”

Power Pill sighed. Glancing at Azure, he said, “Azure, would you do the honors and bring out the device?”

A grin manifested itself upon Azure's face, contorting her face into an angry mockery of itself. “With great pleazure, Doctor.”

Azure levitated out a small, copper cube out of her saddlebag, suspending it in the air above her head. With an almost religious reverence, she took out a small, silver key and inserted it into a corresponding hole in the cube. It twisted thrice, the air was drowned in a sacrilegious, shrill, and strident shriek.

The box flashed once as it clicked and clacked, morphing into an artificial construct. Gears and metal squealed as it assembled itself.

When all was said and done, a giant, bipedal machine constructed of copper and brass stood before Azure. It’s arms, ending in chimp-like hands, were notable shorter than its legs, which ending in strange hand-like appendages. Its head was like misshapen dome, various enchanted jewels crowing it like a crown of thorns.

At once, what it was became clear to Cauterium: a golem. There were many who argued that such creatures constituted a basic ethical violation just by its very nature, not that Azure cared much for ethics.

“Oh, dear Azure, I knew you would end up using your toys to play with me, you naughty little filly,” Cau remarked through a devilish smirk. “It’s a shame I’m in a rush. I’ll have to break your little toy before we can get any playtime with it.” Rolling his eyes, Cauterium launched the last fireball at the golem. He cocked a lazy brow at how Azure grinned at his attack rather than flinch.

A panel of the golem’s chest sprung to life, revealing a cavernous hollow in its center with a curious device that bore resemblance to a beehive mixed with a glass jar. Both Cauterium and Narcissus’ eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets as the jar-thing sprang forward and caught the fireball midair, consuming it whole, leaving not a spark of damage behind.

“What the…” Cau said, his voice trailing off into a mumble as his mind worked out what exactly it was he had just seen.

“Well,” Azure chuckled, her tone nefarious and witch-like in its effect, “I’ve made zome... eh, zome minor improvementz. You like?”

The golem twitched, its left arm jerked up with a rusty squeal. Its hand convulsed, tiny panels of the metal sliding back into a reverse-cone around its hand, revealing a tight tube in its stead. A whirring oomph noise later and the barrel of the tube glowed with a coppery stain of green flame.

Flames licking the barrel, a burst of emerald hatred seethed forth at a supersonic speed, aiming dead center for Cauterium. The incendiary blast struck Cauterium in his eyes before he could even process what had just happened, eliciting a guttural howl of pure, unrepentant agony from him as his aura faded, his body falling to the ground into a fit of spasms.

Narcissus barreled at his friend, sliding to the ground as he yelled, “Cau! Cau! Are you okay‽” Cauterium clutched at his face and eyes, shrieking bloody murder as he rolled around on the floor like a stallion on fire.

“Bravo,” Doc said. “I do believe that’s a new record for beating a bad guy – and the max casualties associated with it. Still, good going.”

Azure kicked a hoof at the ground, blushing. “Oh, it waz nothing, really.”

“You!” Cauterium screamed. Everypony turned their attention to Cau. His eyes were that same cat-like as when he got excited, but the veins and blood vessels had popped. Every last inch of his eye was red, seething with both hatred and hemorrhage alike as he struggled to his hooves, his breaths raged. “I don’t think we’re through here, ooooh no! That’s it! You’ve crossed the line and I’m gonna go all King Arthur on your Black Knight!”

“Eh, what?” Claude said.

Azure rolled her eyes. "Cauterium, you’ve lost. Give up while you’re ztill alive. I’d hate to have to ki–no, zcratch that. Pleaze antagonize uz further, I’d love your head on my wall."

Cauterium laughed. “Lost‽ Now what gave you that impression, eh, sugar?” He put a hoof ot his head, using it to help pop his necks joints. “I’ve only just begun.” He glanced at Claude. “Claude, tag: you in?”

With a single utterance, just a lonely nod of his head, he began a slow canter up before Cauterium. His eyes bore down like an oppressive despot on the golem and its master. “Now see,” he said in a cool tone, “usin’ toys ta fight fer ya is a coward’s ploy.” He stomped a single hoof. “If ya wanna fight, ya’d best be bringin’ yer A-game plus your body. And since a battlefield ain’t no place for a mare-” he took a deep breath “-get back to the kitchen!”

“How dare you, you zexist brute‽” Azure snarled. She gave Power Pill a sideways glance, he nodded. With a glare of her horn, the golem shot forth, aiming itself for Claude. It cleared the distance in seconds, it was upon him just as fast.

It lunged an arm at him, its right hand aiming for Claude’s neck. With twisted his neck to the side, the golem’s hand scraping past by only the thinnest of margins. He spun 180 degrees and bucked the golem square in its breast, shouting, “Go back to the junkyard!” Its trosal cavity buckled as it blew to the ground.

Claude glanced at Azure. “Now watch closely, lass,” he said though an uncharacteristic cooed, his voice trickling malice by the very seams. Galloping at the golem, his leapt into the air, coming down and crushing the golem’s frame with his considerable bulk. “Anyone else‽”

“What‽ No!” Azure shrieked. “My golem!” Claude kicked the golem, making sure it was beyond dead – or as ‘dead’ as it could be considering it was never truly alive.

“No so bad, Gravenstein,” Cauterium said. “I knew you were an august choice.”

Azure’s jaw was wide open, her eyes nearly dead as the Doc put a hoof to her shoulder. “Don’t worry, Azure,” he said. “I’ve got it from here.”

“Them’s is tough words. But can you back yer bark up with enough bite?” Claude dared. He glanced at Cauterium “Don’t worry. I’ve got this. This egghead looks a little like he needs to put into his place – six hooves under.”

Doc frowned. “That’s a shame, I’ve got such an aversion to funerals. Specially my own. Oh, and one last thing.”

“Yeah? Wassat?”

“I don’t play fair.”

The Doc levitated out a small pill out a bag, eyeing it like a jeweler would a precious gem.

“Doctor, are you really going to...?” Azure asked.

He chuckled. “I didn’t exactly intend on it, but it’s a good thing that plan B never fails.”

“B-but it’z the culminazion of a month’z hard work, zhouldn’t we-” Azure tried, only to be cut off by a raised hoof.

“Azure, it was made for just this kinda situation. And I intend to use every advantage. Especially since you-know-who decided to sleep in late today.”

“Ees dzat a pill?" Narcissus questioned to nopony in particular, growing. “Ee ees a drug addict?”

“I’m sorry, guys, but it looks like you won't be able to leave for quite awhile,” chuckled the Doc, tossing the pill into his gaping maw, swallowing it whole.

Chapter Five: Never Mess With Doc

The moment the pill was swallowed, the gigantic stallion began to glow with an nigh unholy light. His eyes and mouth began to burn with a visible red glow. It didn’t take long for Cauterium to figure out exactly was Doc was doing, and fleeing was not a bad option under the circumstances, but it would have been futile at best to flee, suicidal at worst. Yet in was in this window of dread that a gleam in Cauterim’s eyes made his thoughts all-too-clear, what was simultaneously his doom could also be his greatest boon – his chance to rid of himself of the pesky “Cerchen” with but one final effort.

Doc’s body began to morph, the flesh boiling and convulsing, writing against itself in an unnatural was; it was almost as if a his skin had attained its own sentience and arbitrarily decided to “abandon ship” by wrenching itself of his body. Cauterium bit his lip, his expression betraying his inner apprehension – an apprehension for both how dangerous Power Pill was, and how Cau could use it to his own advantage.

“Dzis seems bad…” whispered Narcissus, shuffling his hooves in place. Cauterium was utterly oblivious to his friend, he was far too concerned with studying the various nuances of Power’s form.

Power’s body continued to convulse, his expression locked into a small smirk that just screamed “I win, you lose!” His fat cells hardened beneath his flesh, losing their water, and morphing into pure, unbridled and unapologetic muscle – the cantankerous bulges stretched his flesh to its breaking point; purple scar-like stretch marks along his joints made it self-evident that it was not the first time his body had endured such stress.

The new masses of flesh coiled around his limbs, his body looked like a funhouse mirror version of itself, its size would almost be funny were the stallion’s eyes not as they were. His eyes followed in unnatural suit, his pupils were consumed by the rest of his eye, turning a sickly milky-white hue; the sucking-in blackness of what were once his pupils turned into seething glow of white, like the corona of the sun.

Narcissus dug his tongue into the roof of his mouth. “Damn. This EES bad…”

Claude Gravenstein ogled the new mass of stallion he now faced. His expression contorted into a mix of disgust and what could have been mistaken for dread – not that Claude even knew the meaning of “dread”, only that he could make others feel it.

“What’s wit’ that, egghead? Can’t fight without eating some weird drug of yours?” he mocked, utterly unconcerned with what might as well have been his upcoming destruction. Doc, or rather what was left of him, merely grinned – a sick, twisted, sadistic-bordering-on-masochistic grin, he entire maw was bared open as though he was a carnivore savoring its prey with its eyes. A flick of a slavering tongue across his lips only complemented the ghastly visage.

“Ya know what? Bring it on! Size don’t mean nutin’!” bellowed Claude, issuing a challenge that might as well have been the ringing of a death knell.

“What are you doing, you moron‽” shouted Cauterium, his own teeth bared into a grimace. “Get out of there now!”

The fleshy abomination utterly lost itself, barreling at Claude like a freight train hunting a small child stuck on its track. There stood a solid ten meters between either pony. In a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it moment, the fleshy mass was upon Claude.

As the writhing, slavering mass came face to face with Claude, even he couldn’t deny how poor his choice of words had been. He held firm his ground, his blood pressure skyrocketing – the only sign of possible apprehension. His attempts to throw myself out of Power’s way were a dismal failure at best.

With an almost supernatural sense of precognition, the living horror course-corrected itself, twisting in a way that no living pony should be able as he – or rather, it – spun around and bucked Claude in the ribs. An audible crack broke the otherwise silent battlefield.

Claude yelped, suppressing the noise to where it was little more than a loud grunt as he was forced onto the ground. The abomination towered over the fallen Apple. With a grin so large it threatened to tear his face in half, Doc rose his forehooves off the ground, curling them back at the elbows for what he was about to do.

Azure’s eye bulged. “Doctor! Doctor! No, wait! No!”

The Doc paused, taking a moment to look at Azure as his smile died, making it clear he not only heard but understood Azure. Then the smile reappeared, his eyes swiveling back to the twitching body of Claude.

Doc made a sound, a terrible, deep, guttural sound.

Cauterium found himself at a loss for a comparison to the ound ,having never heard suc a horrible sounds equal in his life. It was sound so wretched, it had likely never been audited since ponykind had first crawled out of the primordial stew and into the muck of shore, a sound uttered by the primordial abominations that stalked and hunted ponykind’s first ancestors.

It was the sound that stallions claw their own eyes out to, that makes mothers smother their foal lest they endure the terror of whatever uttered such a terrible sound. A sound that nopony would blamed for if one voided their bowels in their entirety to. A noise that gelatinized blood. Were one to hear it, the only rational option – and the first to come to mind – would be suicide via one’s own hooves.

And it was the sound that he made.

The Doc dropped his forehooves down with a terribly force, his hooves stomping on Claude’s injured form. Claude suppressed a howl as Pill rose himself again, his smile tearing the edges of his lips and leaking a viscous crimson fluid too slow flowing to be blood.

“Pleaze! Ztop it!” Azure screamed, the horror mounting into a palpable mass in her throat and in her eyes.

Again, and again, Power stomped on Claude. Doc’s weight would normally have been enough to crush most ponies. At double his normal weight and with a homicidal intent, his force was enough to murder anything short of an adult dragon. Again and again, Doc stomped, his smiling tearing more and more of his face.

To Power, the task was simple. To him, it should have been like killing a frog. The motions he made were like what happens when you step on a frog, pulling back at the last second as not to get frog on your hoof; its organs are forced out the nearest gap, causing it to vomit out the entirely of its organs, or, barring access to the mouth, will come out of impromptu holes. To his astonishment, this is exactly what did not happen.

In the blink of a disbelieving eye, Doc backed up from his prey. His teeth were stained with the black ooze stuff, the glow from his throat giving him an otherworldy look on top of his abominable muscles.

Doc took another step back, allowing Azure to see Claude's face, and when she did see it she gasped.

“Please, sir, may ah have another,” Claude chuckled, his face betraying nothing of the pain he should have been experiencing. Claude Gravenstein was smiling, his grin almost as twisted as Power’s. “I’m feeling up for another massage.”

“How did he survive that..?” mumbled Cauterium, his eyes polluted with incomprehension mixed with a boyish amusement. “It appears he was even a better choice than I had ever imagined.”

“Pleaze, doctor! Ztop! It’s all drug, not you!” Azure shouted, loose tears streaming down her face. “You’re not you! You’re not you!”

Claude ambled to his hooves, joints snapping with audible cracks. It became all too clear that the snapping were not of joints but the crackling of broken bones. Claude’s ribcage could only be described as “all wrong”, his body caving in on itself at several junctions.

Doc snapped his jaws shut, inhaling a large breath, only to unleash that same, awful sound.

“This. Is. Bad…” mumbled Cauterium.

Azure clenched her jaw shut, her eye tightening together as they drowned in a sea of salty tears, the same tears that lapped her now glistening cheeks.

The sky crackled, the air surged with an electric charge, exploding into of ball of lightning – a crimson, blood-red lightning. Something, some unknown being of same color, barrel forth from the lightning, colliding with the flesh abomination. With a bone-shattering force, Power was thrown into the air like a child’s ragdoll, flying into a nearby tree and breaking the ancient oak in two.

Cauterium’s jaw fell slack as a gray pegasus stallion materialized before him, an aura of Teslic lightning swirling about him like a hurricane, the stallion being the eye of the storm. Something pressed against Cau’s hooves, and looking down he saw that it was Claude, a very, annoyed Claude at that.

“Who are-” Cau tried.

“Not time for chit-chat!” interjected the newcomer and eleventh hour Samaritan. He made a lightning-quick gesture at the fleshy horror, Doc doing his best to amble out of his newfound daze. “I say we oughta get our sixes outta here ASAP.”

“Agreed,” responded Cauterium without missing a beat. He darted his eyes to Claude. “Can you run, Claude?”

“Barely,” growled Claude. He rose to his hooves, but unlike last time, his stance was as shaky as a newborn foal; cuts and bruises coated his body, giving him the almost comical appearance of what he was on the inside – a rotten Apple.

“Then follow, we haven’t the time for pleasantries.”

*****

“A-azure…” croaked the Doc, his very body fighting against himself to stand; deep inside, the effects of his drug were still burning him up with an inequine hatred, his mind barely able to hold onto any semblance of sanity.

“Yez, doctor?” Azure replied, her words struggling not to trip themselves up

“Bring me… white, round pill… from saddlebag…”

With a dutiful haste, Azure galloped over to Doc’s saddlebag, such that it was being that huge portions of it had been rent asunder by his transformation. Opening the bag, she searched through it with an ardent fervor. And then: “Here it iz!”

Teeth chattering and pulse pounding, Azure levitated the aforementioned white pill to Power Pill. He nearly choked on the briny ichor and foam of his mouth as he forced it all, alongside the pill, down his gullet.

A minute of utter silence, then Doc began to vomit. It was a fetid black fluid, but it was far less viscous that it had been earlier. The salty foam coursed out of his throat and nose, drowning his face in his own internal contents. More than anything else, it made Azure want to lose her own lunch – not that she had eaten lunch, which is what probably saved her from joining her boss’s action.

“A-are you alright, doctor?” asked Azure, her face turning green as she grimaced at him.

Doc’s body began to converse into an epileptic fit. Azure had to physically hold herself back, she knew full and well how bad an idea “helping” him would be. The indignant coils of muscles began to twitch under his skin, dissolving as the Doc’s lactic acids ate them away; the leftover substance being turned into the foul ichor he was vomiting. The milky-white of his eyes receded to their rightful corners, his pupils seeing the light of day once more.

“Thanks… mu-much better…”

Azure could do nothing but stare, biting her lip and grimacing as she gawked. “Doctor…”

His eyes murky with a foul haze, his mouth stained black, and his body spasming, he angled his head to look at his subordinate. “Azure…” he sputtered, his mouth not even bothering to obey him. “I... I’m sorry… Looks like my latest upgrade was a huge... horrendous mistake...” He flashed her a shallow smile, his teeth stained worse than those of a lifelong smoker.

He coughed, a raw, hacking cough, like a smoker’s – if that smoker had the habit of swallowing razor blades every hour on the dot.

“Doctor…” said she murmured, struggling to look into his eyes. “What just happened? I-I’ve-”

Doc made a sound somewhere between a sigh and a pained groan “I.. I put some berserk power into it; I thought it’d give me the extra ‘oomph’ to beat them. It didn’t do that at all...” Neither pony spoke for what felt like ages. “A-anyways, do we have any... any idea who that pegasus was?”

“I don’t know, Doctor. I don’t think we've a dozzier on him.”

He glanced around surveying the fallout of the recent encounter. “Seems like our relations have failed us.” He snapped his jaws. “But now we are certain that Cauterium is guilty. This is incontrovertible evidence in a court of law.”

“What are we going to do now, doctor?” said Azure, her expression twisting with apprehension. “I’d bet they’ll be even harder to zniff out. ”

“But now we have all the probable cause in the world to seek everypony’s – and indeed, anyone’s – assistance. There’s no way the Princess will deny us this.”

Somepony groaned, grabbing the attention of Azure. She galloped over to the wounded grunt. “Are you alright? Any broken bonez?”

“I-I’m fine,” answered the pegasus, his tone betraying the fact that he was lying.

Without warning, his facemask broke apart like an eggshell, revealing the face of a young stallion; his coat a dark-purple, a white mane, and with deep sapphire eyes. Streaks of red were scattered over his face, leaking a crimson fluid.

“You’re not fooling anypony,” Azure replied, her tone bone-dry. “You’re not alright at all.”

“Leave it, Azure,” the Doc sighed. He pointed to the stallion, little more than a colt. “You, what’s your name?”

“Q-quickstep, Doctor!” he replied.

He offered the colt a warm smile – ignoring his black maw, that is. “Go to Ponyville. Find a medic there.” Doc surveyed the field, eyes absorbing the details of the carnage. “Scratch that. Get the whole hospital and bring them here.”

“Y-yes, sir!” Quickstep staggered to his hooves, taking to the sky in the general direction of Ponyville.

“Zo, what are we going to do with Cauterium, doctor?” piqued Azure.

“Time to play a little ‘Cops and Robbers’.”

*****

Rainbow Dash sighed, flying upside down, her gaze transfixed on the great blue yonder. ‘Finally, this boring job is over!’

Her day had been one disaster after another. First her job with clearing many squares miles of the clouds, then that Crimson Thunder whelp. She did her best to forget about Crimson Thunder, and it had worked like a charm – not thinking about things, after all, always solved her most pressing problems in the past.

The sweat she had worked up was beginning to make her feel off. Dash failed to see a reason why she couldn't relax in a nice bath – no, forget that. No nice, girly baths for her. She had to do it in the most awesome way possible, preferably involving a sizable body of water.

Dash smirked, her target acquired. It was a large speck of blue on the ground. As she neared it, she found herself frowning. While to say her memory was spotless might be a slight exaggeration, it didn’t explain how she had never seen this lake before. Surely she would have seen it before, right?

Regardless, Rainbow dashed toward the lake. She glided just above the cool drifts of water, the edges of the water occasional splashing at her hooves. Darting her head over her shoulder, she noticed the streak over the water made by her low pass, an effect that caused her to smirk.

She performed an over-the-top loop, ending up with a nosedive into the lake not unlike how a seahawk would hunt for fish. While not exactly the best of ideas for a pegasus, it was hard to deny just how well a pony’s wings could be used under the surf. After all, air was a kind of fluid, not in the liquid sense, but water operated under the same principles – at least that’s what she learned from science class (and the only thing she could even remember about that dumb class).

Dash performed a mock, slower version of the aerial tricks beneath the clear blue of the lake. From loop-the-loops to barrel rolls, going as far as to have a pretend dog-fight with herself. It all ended when her lungs began to scream for oxygen to the point where she could no longer ignore its deathly pleas.

A light blue head popped from beneath the cerulean waves, accompanied by lazy gasp of breath. Ever the judge, Dash deemed herself “clean” (for certain values of the word), and made for the shore to dry her wings. She came up by a small outcropping of rocky promontories, the rocks themselves being strangled from view via luscious reeds and cattails amongst other lakeside flora.

There came the sound of voices, quiet at first, but they rapidly grew faster. As Dash sunned herself upon a rock, her wings flared out as to catch the most light, herself lying belly-down on the hot stone, she found herself overwhelmingly curious.

“Not like they’d mind,” Dash mumbled to herself, a devious grin on her lips. She stood up and tip-hoofed nearer to the sound, ending up with a single eye woking out through the reeds to her ‘company’.

*****

“Get away from me!” Claude bellowed, taking a step backwards as Narcissus approached him, a pack of bandages in his grip.

“Godiche, moi ees just trying to ‘elp! You 'ave dislocated your shoulder! Eef we leave eet as eet ees, you won’t be able to walk properly!” insisted Narcissus, his tone flush with irk.

“I don’t need yer fancy medicals to fix mah shoulder!” snarled Claude, taking another step backward.

“Oh, dzen show moi ‘ow you can fix dzat,” he mocked.

Claude grinned. “Watch.” He dropped his body to the ground, thus allowing him free use of all his limbs. In a move that would make a contortionist jealous, Claude extend his left foreleg, pinning it with his left hindleg, and pulled. A sick, wet pop followed as his arm extend a little too far. He twisted his right arm, placing his forehooves of same side to his shoulder, shoving at it with all his considerable might. Another wet pop followed, accompanied by Claude pulling his limbs free of the tangle and standing up.

“Godiche! Dzis trick will damage your body!” He grimaced. “Ten bits says ‘you incorrectly popped dze are back’.”

“It’s called a ‘foreleg’, pretty boy,” Claude replied in a know-it-all tone.

“Een every ozer language een dze world, dze word for ‘forleg’ eez literally ‘arm’ (‘bras’, een my native French), and eet ess a much for rational way of saying eet.”

“As if I care, sugar boy,” Claude almost casually replied.

“Ok, but ‘ow ‘bout your ribs? Dzey are clearly broken,” chided Narcissus.

“They are fine! I don’t feel a thin’!”

Narcissus tackled Claude, an action that Claude evidently failed to anticipate. Before the sour Apple could even protest, Narcissus had jabbed a hoof into his ribs.

“OOOOOOW!” Claude howled, curling into a ball.

“See? You’re feeling something after all,” chirped Narcissus, grinning as he leapt off Claude.

“I’ll kill you!” shrieked Claude. Though ‘shrieked’ might be an inaccurate tone, it was more like a high-pitched whimper trying to dam in a rush of extreme pain.

“Will you two shut up for just one minute‽” Both Narcissus and Claude jumped at Cau’s bellow, shooting either a look that would make Medusa jealous. Satisfied that they would shut up for at least a minute, he turned his attention to their mysterious Samaritan. “Why, then, Mr. Crimson Thunder, did you save us?”

“That’s a stupid question, dude. Even I can’t stand looking at somepony brutally killed by some crazy monster,” Crimson replied, shrugging. He gave Cau a ‘look’, which Cau dutifully returned.

“Oh, and by the way,” Crimson Thunder started, “being that we’re not safe (for certain values of that word, anywho), I’d like to talk about a little something-something for my efforts in saving your sorry asses.”

Cauterium’s expression shifted into a devious and sly smirk. “I have an idea on that, but first.” He looked at Narcissus. “Narcissus, give to me the A.H.M.D.”

“On it, beau!”

Narcissus pulled small device from his aether, pressing a button it it he caused it to activate. Cauterium levitated device to himself, his expression turned into enigmatic grin as he examined it.

“AHM-what?” Crimson tilted his head to the side as he stared at Cau.

“You see, my young friend,” Cauterium explained, his tone woefully sardonically. “This is one of my inventions: Anti-Harmony Measuring Device. A.H.M.D. for short.”

“Yeah, that eases all my woes,” Crimson remarked, scratching his head with a forehoof.

“Cau’s expression turned nigh-sadistic. “Yes, and you see, the device is getting a particularly strong reading from you.”

“Meaning?” Crimson deadpanned.

“And now, about your price.”

Narcissus and Claude put aside their differences, but not before snarling at each other, and took up positions to either of Cau’s flanks. All three stallions gave Crimson their own signature looks – confident smirk, a grisly-grim grin, and an arrogant smile.

“Hey,” said the pegasus, his eyes shifting between the stallions, his stance changing to one of nigh action. “Why are you looking at me like that?” Cauterium poked Crimson in the chest, eliciting a bark from the pegasus. “Hey! No hooves, old mustang!”

“Say, what do you like – no. What do you need more than anything?” inquired Cauterium, his expression giving Crimson goosebumps.

“To have fun,” he replied without missing a beat.

“And what do you hate most of all?”

“Boredom and repetition.”

Cauterium’s grin turned downright sadistic. “Then I have a perfect payment for you.”

“Whaddya you mean?” Crimson asked, tilting his head.

“What if I could offer you paradise; what if I could offer you freedom from boredom; what if I could offer you the powers of a god – the kinds of power that even Celestia fears?”

Cauterium’s eye shone of a light of their own as they gazed into the depths of Crimson’s. The pegasus winced, his eye feeling somehow violated and even pained.

“Beau, your eyes,” sussurated Narcissus in Cauterium’s ear.

Cauterium shook his head. “Sorry if I-” he paused to chuckle, a deep, menacing chuckle “-startled you.” With a hard blink, his eyes went back to a normal pony’s. “Point is: I can give you what your heart lusts after most – freedom.”

Crimson raised an ear to Cau. “I’m listening.”

Cau grinned, beginning to walk around Crimson.

“Aw, come on, dude! I haven’t got all day!” whined Crimson, but Cau continued to inspect Crimson as if to determine his worth as chattel.

“Is he always like this?” whispered Claude to Narcissus

“As far as moi knows, yes,” Narcissu replied.

“Say,” Cauterium finally began. “Ever wanted to have the ability to tango hoof-to-hoof with, say, Princess Celestia – and win?”

For a moment, the silence was deafening. “You speak of high treason against the crown. A act that I, as a law-abiding citizen, would probably almost never-except-on-rare-occasions do,” Crimson replied, his tone wary.

Cau smirked. “Yes. Yes it is.”

“And yet you persist,” Crimson mumbled, his eyes shifting to the ground. He stared at his hooves for a solid minute, and then his expression curled into a maniacal grin. “How could I ever deny such persistent... requests?” Claude and Narcissus exchanged glances at the sudden reversal of moods. Crimson offered Cau a hoof. “I think we can reach an-”

“Alright, THAT’S IT!” bellowed a mare’s voice.

All four stallions jerked their heads towards an inconspicuous patch of tall grass and reeds. There, damp with what looked like a thick coating of morning dew, stood a furious pegasus. Her coat light blue, her mane and tail an impossibly scope of rainbows. Her eyes, the color of a brilliant rose, bore down on them all them an unimaginable ire.

Chapter Six: "This is Industry"

Rainbow Dash‘s eyes swiveled about in her skull, her pupils focusing on the ponies before her: Claude, Cauterium, Crimson Thunder, and Narcissus – not that she knew any of them but Crimson. Suffice it to say that were Dash the mare from Krypton, everypony before her would have been sliced into ribbons by laser visions – which is why it’s probably a good thing Dash isn’t a comic book hero.

“You again?” groaned Crimson Thunder. “I thought we had our kiss? What? Want another? I’d be happy to oblige.”

Dash blinked, her cheek flushing with color. “S-shutup!”

“Wait, you know dzis girl through an oral exchange?” Narcissus asked.

“Yeah,” Crimson replied, momentarily forgetting about Rainbow Dash. “She was all like ‘Oh, Crimson Thunder, I’ve totally got the hots for you – have my babies!’ and I was all like ‘Sorry baby, Crimson Thunder’s a lone wolf who don’t operate with a mate save for the occasional equo y equo’ and she was like ‘I can’t live without you – must stalk him like the psycho ex I am’.”

Dash’s face began to positively seeth with a tidal flow of red. “S-shut your mouth, traitor!”

“Rainbow Dash, THE Rainbow Dash, has the hots for you?” Cau inquired, adjusting his glasses, his mouth hanging open.

“Yeah. Didn’t I make that clear enough? And what do you mean ‘THE’ Rainbow Dash. What? Is she some kind of celebrity or something?”

“Do you even read the papers?”

Crimson shrugged, using his wings to accentuate the gesture. “Nah.”

“Uh, fellers, I’m all fer discussing the problems with today’s youth an’ all, but we still got a problem on our hooves,” Claude intoned in a dry voice

“So babe,” Crimson cooed, “up for round numero dos?” Somewhere an acoustic guitar played off a sweet rift for Crimson.

Dash’s face contorted to an impossible degree. It was a wonder how her face didn’t cave in on itself, she was scowling so hard. “You’re lucky I’m a nice pony, or else I would STRANGLE YOU TO DEATH!”

Crimson pouted. “Maybe I’m a masochist. Maybe that kinda stuff gets me off.”

“You-ef-s-disut,” Dash flustered.

Flaring his wings out as if to race off, Crimson said, “I love you just fluster like an old mare. Really shows your age, honey.”

Her neck pulled scrunched back, her teeth grinding themselves into dust as her eyes threatened to shoot laser beams regardless of her less-than extraterrestrial heritage.

“Maybe we should not be antagonizing dze pegasus who can break dze sound barrier, eh?” Narcissus remarked.

“Now ah ain’t no fraidy cat, but I think sissy boy’s gotta point,” Claude added, evoking a pout from Narcissus.

“JUST WHO THE HAY ARE YOU FREAKS‽” Dash snarled, arm flailing about in a random direction which ended up pointing at Cauterium.

“Moi?” Cau asked.

“Oi, that’s moi line, beau.”

Cau rolled his eyes. “Narcissus, let me have my moment here, okay?”

“Fine, moi will.”

Dash’s jaw threatened to abandon her face for a new home where it could live off the earth.

“Y’all wanna stop bickerin’ and, ya know, introduce yourselves? Or do you just want me to tear her wings off?” said Claude.

“Right, sorry,” said Cauterium, straightening his glasses with a hoof. “Oh, I’m just a nopony. Just a down-on-his-luck scientist. Though ‘inventor’ might be a better term.” He glanced up-and-to-the-right as if thinking. “Oh yeah, and I’m also the future Autocrat of Equestria.”

Dash blinked. “Sooooo you’re a crazy pony?”

“He prefers dze term ‘sanity-liberated individual’,” Narcissus chimed.

Cauterium nodded, offering Dash a toothy grin. “Oh, yes indeed. Sanity is just so overrated. I think you’ll find that sanity’s left us all blind.”

“Okay, seriously, what’s with this dude?” Crimson whispered to Narcissus. “I thought he was just eccentric, but this?”

“Yeah, he’s just playing. Cauterium has a habit of dzis, believe it or not. Just look at his face, he gets a weird feeling of enjoyment out of it, I think.”

Cauterium chuckled. “So how are your friends, doing, Miss Dash?”

“Better than you are!” Dash retorted. “At least better than you’ll be after I’m done with you!”

“Oh? Tell me how you intend to accomplish this herculean feat. Please, I’m all ears. Enlighten me with your prismatic ways; your methodology intrigues me so.”

Dash opened her mouth to speak, only to have her attention rapt to the earth pony, Claude. He stood at a predatory pose, his shoulder and legs bent as if to pounce upon her. Claude’s expression was twisted into something of a cat’s stare as if sizing up his prey, judging it for weaknesses, where best to strike, and how much threat she might cause him.

Without rhyme or reason, his posture relaxed, his limbs moving back into a stand. “Get. Out. Of. Here. Now.”

Dash’s eyes narrowed at Claude. “Who are you to tell me what to do?”

“I’m the guy letting you out of here alive,” Claude growled.

“You-you know what‽” Dash snarled, flaring her wings to the side, both being sufficiently dry to fly. “Princess Celestia’ll stop you dead!” She leapt into the air, her wings flapping as she dove skyward.

“We outta follow her, I ain’t too big on fightin’ ol Celestia. Crimson, follow ‘er.” A moment of pause. “Uh, hotshot, I said ‘follow her’, not ‘stand there with your hoof up your-”

“Asking won’t help,” Crimson replied. “There’s no point; I know I can beat her fair and square. There’s no more fun in it for me.”

Cauterium grimaced, Crimson’s implication sinking in deep. “This could be a problem in the long run.”

***

“… And then-” Spike bared his teeth “-John was a zombie!” He glanced side-to-side, his claws exposed and at an attacking position, emphasizing his story. The girls exchanged looked, immediately breaking out into an unapologetic laughter. “What?” he asked, grimacing. “Wasn’t that story scary?"

“Spike!” Twilight guffawed, tears threatening to stream down her cheeks. “That story wasn’t scary at all!”

“Yeah!” Pinkie chimed, rolling around on the floor, clutching at her stomach. “It was hi-larious!”

“But this story is about space demon; the protagonist's struggle with himself over the demons, ending with his own demise! How can you just laugh off something so deep‽”

“Oh, Spike!” Twilight laughed, struggling to maintain her balance. “I think that’s honestly the first time I’ve heard a story so bad it’s good!”

Spike tilted his head to the side. “So, do you like my epic, ‘Repercussions of Evil’?”

“We most certainly do!” Rarity replied, holding a hoof over her mouth to suppress a unladylike bout of laughter. “But not because it’s good, but because it’s bad.”

Spike tilted his head to the other side. “I don’t understand. I thought my use of ‘danube’ as a verb was very innova-”

“LOOK OUT BELOW!”

A window exploded as Rainbow Dash burst through, spraying shards of loose glass all over the room, evoking shrieks from some of the girls. She collided head-first with a bookshelf, knocking it to the floor and raising an illogically huge column of dust.

“Rainbow Dash‽” Rarity gasped.

Dash poked her head out from a wretched pile of books, a copy of the “Encyclopedia Dramatica” spread out across the top of her head. She jerked her head, the book flying off her.

“Twilight, no time explain, gotta letter a Princess send!”

“Woah, woah, easy there, Dashie. What’s the rush?” Pinkie asked.

“Spike, letter, take now!”

“Wait, slow down and explain yourself. I can’t very well write or send the letter if I have no idea what they’re saying,” Spike replied, pulling out a quill and scroll from the aether.

Dash paused to take a deep breath. “Spike, got the letter?”

“Um, duh.”

“Okay, okay!” She cleared her throat. “Dear Princess Celestia,

“It is my wholehearted belief that Equestria is in danger! I met-”

“Hold it! Lemme finish writing. D-A-N-G-E-R. Okay, proceed.”

“Okay, so there were these four guys.” She paused to let Spike finish. “The first guy was a scientist, he was wearing black glasses – the whole nine yards.”

“Hold up, hold up,” said Twilight. “A scientist?”

“Didn’t I just say that?”

“Did he have golden eyes?”

“No-yes, I dunno, I think so. Why?”

Twilight’s expression deadened, the implications running through her head, connecting two plus two and getting four. “Oh dear.”

Dash shook her head. “The next guy was a green guy, kinda girly, pink flower in his mane, spoke with a French accent – I think.”

“French?” chimed Rarity.

“Yeah, he kept saying stuff like ‘dzis, moi, and dzat’ and stuff.”

“Strange.”

“Okay, next bit,” Spike goaded.

“Okay, so there was this... pegasus named Crimson thunder.”

“Sounds like you really like him,” Rarity chuckled.

“I don’t want to talk about,” Dash replied through gritted teeth.

“Anything else?”

“Yeah, there was this other guy: mean, grumpy, angry.” She shrugged. “That’s it.”

“And how are four ponies going to overthrow Celestia?” Rarity asked.

“I was just getting to that part!” Dash paused for breath. “They were talking about a way to overthrow Celestia. The scientist – their leader, I think – was saying he had a way to grant anypony infinite power. The kind of power to ‘change the country’ for good.”

“Hold it! Lemme finish writing this down!” Dash blew a puff of air out as she tapped a hoof. It felt like forever. “Done. Continue.”

“Ugh, finally! So they had this power-plan-thing going on.” A brief pause. “Got that, Spike?”

“No need to be condescending,” he grumbled. “I got all the points and whatnot.”

“And there’s no way you misheard them or that you’re overreacting?” Twilight asked.

“I know what I heard! The scientist-egghead-type offered Crimson magical power and stuff. Crimson asked if it was high treason. The egghead smiled a-and said ‘yes’. Then Crimson agreed on those grounds.” Her piece said, she began panting.

“Okay, Twilight do you think we should...?” Spike asked.

“Dash, this isn’t one of you pranks, is it?” Twilight inquired.

“No, it’s not,” Pinkie chimed. Everypony turned to look at her. “What? I know a prank when I see one. This isn’t one.”

“Fine, alright. Any last words before I send it off to the princess? No? Alright then, it's your funeral.” Spike rolled the letter up and inhaled. The gases inside his gut ignited as they collided with the catalyst, sending forth a spew of emerald green fire. The flame incinerated the letter whole, rematerializing it in before Princess Celestia.

***

Tick. Tock… Tick. Tock… Screech… Screep…

“Born to make and not to break,” somepony, a stallion, sang. “The good job, don’t be a slob.”

Tick. Tock... Tick. Tock...

“This. Is. In-dus-try.... REPEAT. This. Is. In-dus-try.

Screech.. Screep...

“One, two, hoof me the screw. Three, four, from the floor. Five, six, whatever ticks.”

Clank. Clink... Hiss...

“Seven, eight, there’s time, just wait. Nine, ten, just tell me when!”

The stone floor was wreathed by bits of scrap metal, springs, cogs, and gears; the only clean place being the cave’s center. In the dead center of the room was a table, standing before the table was a pegasus stallion holding a screwdriver in each wing.

“To create, that is my trait. Don't abate for this is great.”

The stallion was copper-colored in coat, his mane a dull brown, his actual hair being short and unruly. His eyes were covered by a pair of self-made industrial goggles.

“Compute machine, I’m oh so keen.”

On the table before him was an unaesthetic machine bearing some semblance the lower half of an egg. It was jury rigged from metals of all different sizes and colors, none of which complemented each other. The device had a strange clock-like instrument at its zenith.

“Seid bereit, work through the night. Es ist zeit, time to make right.”

The engineer set the screwdrivers onto the table, removing his goggles for good measure. He picked up a welder’s mask, put it on, and grabbed a welder’s torch.

Hiss... Burn...

“I am Gear, this you’ll hear. I am Grinder, a reminder.”

The sparks of the torch burned with a solar intensity, if not for his mask he would’ve got totally blind.

“Gear Grinder – that is my name. To tinker, that is my game. Panzerhengst, I cause you angst.”

The last bits of metal soldered together perfectly.

“This. Is. In-dus-try... This. Is. In-dus-try... REPEAT... This. Is. In-dus-try... This. Is. In-dus-try.”

Gear Grinder removed his welding mask, revealing his tan-red eyes, setting the soldering gun aside. He marveled as his half-baked creation, hideous though it wall. “Phew! Finally finished!” He scratched at the side of his head. “Now all that’s left is to figure out just what the hay this does.”

“Hey, Gear!”

The only way into Gear’s steampunk stronghold was through a sizeable hole in the cave’s roof. Through that hole flew a young, female griffon.

“Ah, Gilda! What brings you to my humble abode, eh?”

“What is this piece of garbage?” she asked, pointing to Gear’s new egg.

“This? Why this is my latest creation!”

“Uh-huh,” she deadpanned. “And it does...?”

Gear beamed. “I have absolutely no idea.”

Gilda slapped a talon to her face. ”Ugh, why do you always do that?”

“Do what?”

“Remind me of a mare.”

“What mare?”

Gilda rolled her eyes. “The mare with the power.”

“What power?”

“The power of who-do.”

“Who-do?”

“You do.”

Gear scratched his head. “Do what?”

“Remind me of a mare.”

“What mare?”

Gilda sighed. “Never mind, egghead. Here, take a look at this.” She pulled out a paper scroll and unfurled it, spreading it across Gear’s worktable.

Bit of sparkles danced across Gear’s eyes. “Ooh. A contract?”

“You betcha, honcho.”

He shoved his face into the contract, absorbing every detail. “Who we hunting? What are we hunting? Is it a hydra? Is it a bear? Is it the true meaning of Christmas?”

“What’s Christmas?”

Gear frowned. “I dunno.”

Gilda shook her head. “Look, it’s a pony, alright?”

“Say what?”

“Yeah. It’s some asshole with a hayuva price on his flank,” she chuckled.

“Curious... Here it says theat the reward is – hummana hummana hum! THIRTY THOUSAND BITS‽”

Gilda grinned. “Yeah. Our target's definity pissed the right people off. It says here that he’s wanted for theft. What can you steal in the wide, wide world of Equestria-”

“We’re a country.”

“-to get a bounty like this?”

Gear shrugged. “Celestia’s prized purple panties?”

Gilda glanced at Gear. “Does she even wear-”

“I don’t wanna know. I do not want to know.”

A moment’s pause. “Fair enough.”

“Oh, hey, look at this. Says here that his cohorts are also wanted. The bounty is oh so extreme! Can you do the ‘money dance’?”

“No.”

“Aww.”

Gilda sighed. “So what d'ya say? Wanna go kick some butt?” Gear didn't reply, he just stood there giving her a thousand-yard stare. She snapped her talons. “Hey, shotshot. Wakey, wakey, eggs and bakey.”

He shook his head. “Uh, sorry. I was just imagining all that dosh we’d be rolling in.”

“Uh-huh, so are you in or-”

“Hay yeah, I’m in!

“Good, then saddle up. We’re going on a trip.”

“Sure thing, hoss.” He glanced around the cave. “Now where did I put my cola jetpack?”

***

A silver-maned stallion clad in Cerchen’s trademarked barding lurched inside the building. His gray coat did nothing to help hide his age, nor the crows feet around his eyes

“Tesla! There he iz, lazy sunuva-”

“Coooooomrads!” *hic* ”It is good to be seeing you here!” Tesla spread his hooves, aiming to hug Azure, only to completely miss her by four whole feet.

“You… you incompetent drunkard! How DARE you even show your face here!”

Tesla swayed back and forth. “Vhoa vhoa, Azure! I am very much the happy to see you – is good for health!” *hic* ”You look even more better when you are angry.”

He stumbled onto Azure, forcing her to shove him off her and onto the wooden floor. Doc, standing next to Azure, just stared at Tesla.

“Listen, I am very much the sorry!” Tesla whinnied, prying his body off the floor. “The only of myself was at stake! My honor!” *hic*

“YOU INCOMPETENT, GOOD-FOR-NOTHING JERK! We failed to capture Cauterium because YOU had to get pizz drunk!”

“Calm down, Azure,” Power Pill sighed. “Don’t forget that he holds rank over you, drunkard or not.”

Azure bit her lip. “Zorry, doctor.”

“Aw, Doc, do not be so stingy.” *hic* “Have to admit, I really did do kind of stupid thing.” He steadied himself on all four hooves. “It vill not happen again!”

“Commizzar Tesla, you’re ALWAYZ promising that,” Azure snarled.

“Nah, this time I vill keep my-” *hic* “-promise! I promise.” He took a step forward, only to stumble over his own hoof, falling to the ground. He rolled around making cat-like grunt noises as he repositioned himself – his right side on the ground, his hind legs extended but crossed over themselves, and his right elbow on the ground propping up to support his head as he gazed at Azure and Roy.

“Anyvay, vhat’s the deal with the suspect guy, eh? I heard that you let him go.”

“We-” Azure growled.

“We were outmustanged and outbowed Cauterium had more ponies with him and they were VERY well armed,” Doc interjected. “He did admit his guilt, though.”

“Oh, so he IS guilty.“ *hic* “So what? Are ve going to arrest him?” Tesla yawned.

“Don’t worry,” the Doc replied. “We’ve got every two-bit bounty hunter out looking for them. Cau and his confederates have their faces plastered across every city, town, and hamlet this side of Canterlot.”

Tesla’s pupils completely shrunk into little black dots. “You did VHAT‽” He leapt to his hooves. “You IDIOTS! Do you not realize vhat you have done‽”

Azure and the Doc exchanged looks.“Made our job easier?” Power prodded.

Teeth grinding, Tesla began pacing back and forth like a caged lion. “You. Are. Brainless. Idiots. If somepony else vill try to catch him, he may reveal VHAT he stole beside the Gems of Clarity! Do you realize what problems da Cherchen Committee vill have if everypony will be knowing that ve vere holding a part of Firstborn Darkness - illegally, I might add!” With every word his tempo increased for both his rate of speech and walking pace.

“Ummm, woops?” Roy and Azure deadpanned in unison.

“Idiots… idiots… brainless -bucking!- morons…”

“Well, half the things we do are less-than illegal,” Roy intoned.

“Well, EXCUZE ME!” Azure shouted.“If YOU hadn’t been late -no, never arriving- to the battle, we could've caught him ALREADY! And you dare to call UZ idiotz‽”

Tesla froze in place. “You know vhat? You’re right… You’re right.” He swallowed. “So everypony has their moments of the failure, da? Everything is in past now!” A short pause. “We need to think of plan of attack for future to stop Cauterium. Ideas, ponies?”

“Maybe if we add ‘compulsive liar’ to hiz description, poniez won’t listen to anything he sayz?” Azure prodded.

“Ideally so, but we all know he bathes his tongue in molten silver,” Tesla replied. “So-”

“Comissars!” a stallion burst into the cemetery-like emptiness of the hotel lobby.

“Ah, Quickstep,” Doc said. “How’s your wound?”

“I-it was just a scratch,” Quickstep dismissed. “A-anyway, we’re getting reports about Cauterium - lots of ‘em! And-”

Quickstep was cut off as two ponies – scratch that, a griffon and a pony – burst in. The griffon was female, the pony was a male pegasus with a pair of goggles.

“Hey, are you the guys giving the bounty on this ‘Cauterium’ dude?” the griffon demanded, unfurling the bounty.

Tesla facehoofed. The Doc offered an ostensibly real smile. “Then may I know your names?”

“I’m Gilda and this dweeb is Gear Grinder. That a problem?”

“No,” Doc intoned. “But you don’t need to come to us, that kinda defeats the purpose of putting bounty posters all about.”

“Keen,” Gear chimed.

“Vhile you’re here, it might be doing you well to hear a little something ve may have left out,” Tesla said, earning himself a sideways glance from Azure. “Cauterium is a compulsive but convincing liar.”

“Right, so don’t trust a word he says and bring him in -mostly- alive, right?”

“Yes. Now scurry off. Time is money.” Azure sneezed something awful. “Bud’ Zdorov, Azure.”

“Neat-o. Gilda, shall we?”

“You know it!” Just as fast as they entered, they left.

Tesla signed. “I hate this. We’re sending kids to their inevitable slaughter by the droves, are we not?”

Roy levitated out a large, Cuben cigar fresh from the land of bears. With a single tap against his horn it was light. “These guys may have less-than admirable motives, but are our motives any less ulterior?” He put the cigar into his mouth.

“I know that look very vell.”

Roy’s eyes swiveled to Tesla. “Azure put a ‘spydoll’ on the griffon’s feathers, we can track her movements – and by extension Cau’s.”

Tesla’s brow furrowed. “And, uh, how exactly did this happen?”

“When I, hehe, sneeze. How unladylike of me, no?” Azure winked.

Roy smiled, taking the cigar from his lips. “I love it when a plan comes together.”

Something started to beep in Azure’s saddlebag. She unlatched her tag’s top drawstring and pulled out a small, bronze cube. Pulling out a silver key and inserting it into a matching hole in the box, she turned it thrice over.

Gears sliding, clanking, and scrapping against themselves as the box unraveled itself into a new object entirely. The new object was a vaguely donut-shaped object with insectoid-like “legs” and small, glowing gems haphazardly scattered around it.

The centermost gem, a large emerald, began to glow. As if by magic, the insides of the gem began to swirl, revealing the face of Twilight Sparkle. Azure glanced to either side of her where both stallions were shoving about in order to get a look at her device.

“Miss Azure Knowledge?” said Twilight’s voice through the static. “We may have information you might want to hear.”

Chapter Seven: Before the Tempest

The ancient, cracked steeple of the old temple stood solemn guard over her decrepit enclave. Her walls lay broken with holes in many places, the front door having been eaten by the elements centuries ago. Rows upon rows of columbine lined her walls, nearly camouflaging her on her green hill in the middle of nowhere.

Far below her ruined bell tower where ponies once worshiped long-forgotten gods, four stallions made their camp. And one of the four knelt down in the hallowed pews of a bygone god, his hooves clasped around a set of prayer beads.

Narcissus knelt, his eyes rapt to the beads he held before him. His lips mumbled prayers in his native tongue, though he wasn't even aware he was doing it. Claude, his expression more neutral than a rock, eyed 'Narc' the whole while.

“I didn't know ya were a prayin' stallion,” Claude said.

Narc's eyed shot open as he flinched. “O-oh, Claude. M-moi...” He looked at the beads in his hooves. “Moi was praying?”

Taking a seat next to Narcissus, Claude replied, “Ya weren't? Sure as hay sounded like it.”

A smile smile danced across Narc's muzzle. “Back where moi is from we had a god, a goddess, to be precise. Her name was – is, moi guess – Déesse.” He shrugged. “Moi does not believe in her, not anymore at least.”

“Then why was you prayin', hmm?”

Narcissus slumped from the pew and into the chair, finding himself sitting next to Claude. “Like moi said, moi did not even know moi was. Mon parents were very religious ponies, you see.”

It was quiet for a moment, the only noise being Crimson fluttering about the upper recesses of the temple and Cauterium configuring the anti-Harmony device to track down the last two anti-Elements. It was truly broken my Claude. “What were their names? Yer parents, ah mean.”

Narcissus opened his mouth, his face going blank as he once again stared at the prayer beads. “Rosée was mon mother, mon father being Cyrano.” He blinked, his eyes remaining shut for five whole seconds. “I loved them dearly... Moi means: 'moi' loved them dearly. Moi can only hope they found their peace with Déesse; I didn't have the heart to believe in her after... after what happened to mon folks.”

Claude open his mouth, only to shut it as if some sixth sense had told him not to question down that line. He sighed. “Ya know, kid, I never knew mah folks. The only 'father figure' I even had I hate to death. I mean that ah really hate him; were it not for my honor I would have... Well, let's just say that thank Celestia that I'm a good pony and that I ain't no monster.”

“Do not call me 'kid', you're not that much older than moi,” Narc mumbled.

Claude shook his head. “I'm seven years your senior.”

“And Cau is older than us all.”

“Really? He don't look all that old.”

“'E takes good care of himself, beau.”

“Ah see. I'm curious, Narc, what's it like outside of Equestria? Ah've only hear the barest of rumors.”

Narc leaned forward, placing his chin on the stone chair in front of him. “Et ez 'orrible. You do not want to hear about it.”

After a moment's hesitation, Claude put his left arm over Narc’s shoulder. “Try me.”

Narc's eyes went utterly dead as if he were staring at a still object a thousand miles away. “Moi has seen the worst that ponykind is capable of. Moi has seen what Celestia would never allow. Moi has seen atrocities that would sicken even you. Moi has seen too many orphans, too many limbless, and too many dead ponies to believe in a god anymore.

“T-to slog through mounds of the dead and dying, and then to have to ignore their begging of water to keep yourself alive... And to be just a small foal is.. it's just...” A tear dripped from Narcissus' eye onto the temple's stone floor. “To have to keep, to have to be greedy because it is the only thing keeping you alive, is a terrible fate. M-moi thinks that... that is why moi is the wielder of Penury, though moi thinks it wields me, not the other way around.”

“What d'ya mean, sugah boy?”

“Moi does not own a single thing, they own me. A wise pony once said that 'we do not truly own something unless we can give it away, if not then they own you'.” He licked his lips. “Moi cannot give anything away. It's not because moi is greedy, moi does not wish to deprive others of their belonging just so that moi can posses them, no. Moi is simply unwilling to give up anything. Déesse-only-knows why Penury chose me as its avatar.”

“Well, I, uh, damn. I didn't expect that kinda back story from a dandy such as yerself. I...” Claude trailed off.

Narc sniffled. “You know, mon parents always said that one day moi would return to the old country. They said that an oracle-no, three different oracles from across the nation, all unrelated to each other, said that one day moi would return and save the old country. They said dzat moi was some sort of messiah to the old land; that I would save the old country and make it a utopia like Equestria is.”

Claude smirked. “You know that your accent' falling, right?”

“It is a kind of fake, mon ami. Moi was raised on it, it is how moi speaks, but most of the 'dz's and 'moi's are just me consciously doing that. Forgive me if moi ever forgets his linguistic roots.”

“Yeah, yeah. Where are you even from, eh?”

Narcissus sighed. “'Ave you ever heard of a little place called 'France'?”

“Ye-ah.”

“Well, today what became of France is a despotic piss-hole ruled by warlords and fascists dictators alike. In short: as politically stable as ever. The last time we even were a republic was... oh, a 1,100 years ago. That ended after President Du Gualle, who moi is actually descended from, instituted emergency dictatorial power in order to combat the Domination.”

“And here I thought France was a land full of sillies like yerself.”

Narcissus cracked a smirked. “Moi is actually from the Gascony, the most mustangly region of France. Gascons are – were – dedicated to the art of warfare and how best to fight; we were well know for our abilities as boasting, hence dze word 'gasconade'.”

“Huh. I did not know that about the French. That's just... odd.”

Narc scoffed. “Please, there hasn't even been a France since De Gualle died. Dze biggest powerhouses today are Burgundy and Orléans. There's a reason why I can't drink Burgundy, and hate the color Burgundy. We, mon parents and moi, had to cross it to get to Equestria. The young 'duke' of Orléans got it in his head that Déesse chose him to unite France into a single nation again. It's too bad his France would be a nation build on slavery, serfdom, and murder – which is why he attacked Gascony, the Burgundians joining in for fun and profit.” He shook his head. “Moi is sorry, moi is probably boring you to tears. The only one moi can relate to with this ez Cauterium, you know?”

“And Cauterium is who, exactly?”

Narc blinked. “Oh, yes, right. Cauterium is the science guy nerd-type. The one fiddling with the deice thingy. He never calls himself Cauterium, moi just calls him 'Cau'. Et es some crap about him casting off his old name from the old country, but he never bothered to get a new name for himself. So everypony just calls him Cauterium or Cau, and it just pisses 'im off.”

Claude took the arm he had on Narc's shoulder off, using the hoof to scratch the back of his neck. “Right.... What d'ya mean only Cauterium can relate?” Somewhere in the background, Cauterium yelled something at Crimson.

“Cauterium ez from a place called the 'Basileia ton Romaion'.” He shook his head. “Terrifying lot, those ponies.”

“I've ne'er heard of that,” Claude intoned.

Narc chuckled. “Yeah, Celestia keeps a lot of things like that. If she can keep their horror outside of Equestria's borders then by all means don't mention them. They're in the older history books, I've seen it. But nowadays everypony likes to forget those kind of horrors exists.”

“Horrors?”

“Yeah... Only twenty years ago the Basileia ton Romaion was on its last legs – it only had its capital city left, and that was surrounded on all sides by either the Bosporus strait or heathens.”

“How could an alicorn let that happen to her nation?”

“Not a ‘she’, a ‘he’. The ‘emperor’, or ‘basileus’, was and still is a playboy. He let it happen to his empire because he just didn’t care. Then along came Skantarios Laskaris, known as ‘The Killer’ by all who oppose him. He was ‘elected’ chancellor of the Basileia, then in a bloody campaign carved out the greatest land empire in Equine history. The ‘real’ leader was out chasing butterflies in the palace gardens; Skantarios, a unicorn, became the real leader. He was brutal, he was a Romaion supremacist, and he knew no mercy. Rumor has it that Cauterium was his childhood best friend, and that Cau was single-hoofedly responsible for giving them a technological edge to led them to where they are today – the top of the food chain.”

Claude glanced over his shoulder to Cauterium, who wasn’t there. Glancing around he saw Cauterium playing with his device upon the temple’s alter. “Dammit,” Cau mumbled.

“That guy helped to create an empire? Why’s he here and not basking in riches of his home?”

“Because, Claude, he fled because he couldn’t handle the absolute genocides the regime performed. Cau lost faith in his nation’s patron deity, a sin that Skantarios wouldn’t tolerate. Cau risked life and limb getting here, which is how I met him. Despite Skanatarios’ five million strong army of ‘citizen soldiers’, even he’s not stupid enough to go against the mare who controls the sun. At least not until he’s stronger.”

“Crimson, get down form those rafters!” Cauterium barked,

“No!” Crimson replied.

“Yes!”

In the dimmest bits of light shining through the decrepit ceiling of the church, Crimson caught a glint that he swore hadn't been there a moment ago. “There’s something up here!”

“There’s nothing but-” he shut himself up as the AHMD began to blink. “The Disharmony Honing Device has something!”

“Err, wasn't it dze the Anti-Harmony Measuring Device, beau?”

Cau have Narc a blank look. “No... A-anyhow, I got a lock on that last to Elements! According to this, they’re in.... the Royal Canterlot Mares' Stockade... Oh, dear.”

“How can you tell they're both in that?” Claude asked.

“Long story, but that's where they are.... Beneath Canterlot Castle... guarded by Celestia's finest.... and right beneath... her... hooves... Damn. Well, looks like we’re going to Canterlot!”

Crimson stood in the rafters of the ancient sanctuary, staring at a particular form. The from had made a single noise, and it had been enough to attract his attention. It was a pegasus stallion wearing a pair of goggles. “And who might you be?”

“Gear Grinder.” He smirked. “Bounty hunter to the max; I've got your name on my ax, and it's marked with an X.”

Something with talons took position behind. “And I'm Gilda, so just relax. Pleased to make your acquaintance. Say, did you know there's quite a pretty penny on your head?”

“Or that his life's hanging by a thread?”

“And we've got the scissors right here.”

“Let's just hope your compatriots don't... interfere.”

“Hey now,” Cau barked, “up there, what's that I hear?”

A crack. And then the wooden panel beneath Crimson collapsed, knocking him through the rafters and landing on top of Cau. “Err, boss? We got company.”

“Wha-who-oh-” Cau grunted as Crimson Thunder landed behind them, a huge smile on his face. At the base of the alter came down Gilda, landing with a cat-like grace.

“How d'you do, I've see you met my.... faithful companion,” Gilda said.

Gear frowned. “You know, I think we should cause them some trouble.”

Cau blinked, struggling to force Crimson off of him. “Wait, who are you?”

Somewhere a slow guitar rift played as Gilda spoke. “Don't mind him. He's just a little brought down because.. in order to get him here... I had to make a basic or two... assumption.” She took a step forward, accompanied by a random trumpet blast.

“Are they doin' a musical?” Claude mumbled. “Where the hay's that music comin' from?”

“Don't get too strung out by how we enter or the... way I look. Don't judge my book by its cover.”

“You might think her much by the light of day,” Gear chimed.

“But by night I'm one hay of a bounty hunter. I'm just a sweet griffon from Glorious, Greedlandia – and we're here for... you!” Gilda finished.

***

“Wait, so just hold on for a buckin’ sec. Just what are we listening to, exactly?” Dash asked, her face awash with perturbation. The irked singsong of static consumed the air, and it all sprung forth from a small, metal box hardly any larger than a pie. It was Azure’s ‘Spydoll Receiver’.

“Da, Azure’s... got a bunch of dese vhacky t’ings. This one is, I guess, spying on somepony. She’s got von for everything, da,” Tesla said.

Spike, his nose wrinkling, glared at Tesla. The pony stunk of alcohol and shame. Glancing at Rarity, he was vaguely amused to see her apprehensive expression; Tesla’s uniform was so horrible, it set the Fashion Disaster Alert (FDA) level to “kumquat”.

And to Spike’s intense worry, Pinkie was as silent as a graveyard; she eyes seemed locked on the device, her eyes shining with what he could almost call a draconic lust. After all, Spike should know. He once experienced a phase where that was all he did.

Pinkie’s jaw fell ajar as Azure stuck her key into her device, trying to get a better single. “Ztupid thing. Come on work!” She glanced at Pinkie. “Uh, is she okay? Um, pink one?”

“Want, want, want,” Pinkie mumbled.

“If I give you one my mechanicals, will you stop looking at me like that? It’s legitimately making my skin crawl.” Pinkie vigorously shook her head ‘yes’. Azure levitated out a small, brass clockwork dog. Pinkie’s eye ere consumed with a soup of spinning, white stars as Azure held out the key to her. Pinkie snatched the key in her mouth, the dog in her tail, and practically vanished, leaving an inconspicuous cut-out outline where she once stood.

“So,” Rarity began,” just who are you fine gentlecolts and lady?”

Azure continued fiddled with her device as Roy said, “Cerchen, the ‘security contractor’ sector of the Treowth Cerchen.”

Rarity frowned. “I’ve heard of them somewhat, nothing good.”

“Well, when you own the largest private military in the nation, that military being us, the Cerchen, you tend to get a bad rap. It don’t help that we’re also the single largest arm contractor in the whole of Equestria, too. Nor that we’re the biggest in the tech sector. In short: a bad reputation for being a little to good.”

Azure put her ear to her device as Rarity continued, “Private military... I thought the Treowth Cherchen was part of the government.”

Roy shook his head. “Common misconception. Ostensibly, the TC – err, the Treowth Cherchen – has no official ties with the government but... Well, Princess Celestia and we have a thing going, and it’s been that way for some time. We’re her ‘laundrystallions’, if that makes any sense.”

“Pardon?” Twilight asked.

“Well, we do what does not see the light of day,” Roy replied.

“You mean-”

“Yes, covert ops, black ops, the sort of thing you don’t ever want in the tabloids. This here? Technically speaking, it’s a black op. There will be no record of you ever being here, and likewise you’re not to speak of even talking to us. We do what the Princess would rather keep secret; we’re the guys who make sure her regime stays neat, tidy, and safe for everypony.” The girls all exchanged looks. “And what you’ve just heard is not technically classified, its details are beyond even my clearance tier.”

“Got it!” Azure beamed, the radio tuning in to Cau’s entire speech about where he was going. Then the speak turned into a rap, than a song. “While weird, I think we know where we’re going if the mercs don’t zucceed.”

Behind the dingy, dark stone walls of Canterlot Mares' stockade were tow mares, two ponies bearing exemplary abilities in two evil traits.

Robin Conchall giggled playfully as she massaged her cellmate's wings. Her coat was yellow, her mane purple, her cheeks peppered with freckles, and her cutie mark a jeweled ring. “Oh, Alcatraz, you're wings are so... excitable.” She giggled again.

The guard, a young colt on his first day on the job, stood outside their cell, staring at the two mares. “What's that matter, boy?” Alcatraz chuckled. “Cat got your tongue?”

Alcatraz, her coat purple and her mane a light champagne in color, laid on her belly with her wings outstretched, making eye contact with the sweating colt. Yet despite the lines of black tattoos running across her body, it was hard to deny just how hot she was – especially with Robin behind her.

Robin ran a hoof through Alcatraz's wings, then pouted with her full lips “Oh no, it looks like we're out... of pillows.” She looked up to the guard. “Excuse me, handsome, would you mind seeing about getting us another pillow?”

The guard swallowed. “I-I'm sorry, m-ma'am, but I'm not allowed to-”

“Oh, pretty please,” both mares asked in complete unison, batting their eyes at him.

He glanced around. “W-well, I guess I... I'll be right, uh, yeah.” Trotting briskly about, his sword clanging against his waist, the guard vanished around a corner.

Robin's smiled turned into a grimace. “Just a little longer, Allie, and we'll be outta here,” she singsonged

'Allie' wore an expression not dissimilar to Robin's. “'Cause if it ain't, I'm gonna kill you,” she also singsonged.

“Plenty of time to do that later.”

“Not if I don't kill you first.”

“That wasn’t a threat.”

“No, but I was threatening you.”

“Remember that I’m behind and above you; I can break your wings and wring your neck faster than you can turn around,” Robin continued, still singsonging

Allie flipped over onto her back. “Oh yeah?”

Robin's grimace turning vaguely sadistic. “Remember how I'm the unicorn here, and I know some pretty nasty spells.”

“Yeah? Like?” Allie snorted.

“Oooh, I dunno. Just a little baby called 'Evan's Spiked Tentacles of Forced Intrusion'.” She battered her eyelids. “But you wouldn’t make me do that, would you?”

“You wouldn’t,” Allie hissed, eyes narrowing.

“Oh but I would,” Robin cooed, placing her right forehoof to the left of Allie's head, her mane falling onto her. Somepony cleared their throat, causing either mare to jerk their heads to the outside of the jail cell. “Hey there, sweetie.”

“I, uh, I'll just, um, throw it in,” the guard stammered.

Alcatraz batted her eyelids. “Oh, well not just hoof it to us, hmm? We don't bite.”

Licking his lips, the guard just stood there staring. “Uh. I don't think, uh-”

“Aww, just make me beg, handsome,” Robin cooed.

“Yes, don't make me either – cause I will,” Alcatraz added with a pout of her lips.

Swallowing, the guard inserting a key into their cell door. Eying Robin licking the inside of her cheeks, the guard stepped into the cell. Seeing the hungry look in Allie's eye, he closed the door.

He held the pillow out to them as Robin shook her hips, saying in a girlish voice, “Aww, won't you come just a little closer.” Her tone dropped to downright sultry. “Have a little... fun?”

His throat went dry. “I-I don't think that's... I'm breaking regulations as it...”

Allie, thinking on her hooves, put a hoof on Robin's rump, the latter mare struggling not to punch the former in the face. “Don't you wanna-” Alcatraz giggled “-have a little playtime or some R&R?”

The guard dropped the pillow to the floor, taking a step back. “I, uh, don't think, you see... I'm, uh, kinda in, oh mare...”

“Aww, don't make us beeeg,” Robin singsonged with a pout. The Guard didn't move, his heart threatening to explode out of his chest. Still pouting her lips in the most provocative manner possible, she extended an arm at the guard, waving it in a 'come hither' gesture. Feeling a nosebleed coming of, the guard clutched a hoof over his nose.

“Quick, plan B,” Allie whispered.

“I'm not gonna kiss you,” Robin hissed.

“Fine, plan C!”

“We have a plan C?”

Allie grabbed Robin's hips with her hind legs, throwing her to the ground and rolling on top of her. “We do now,” she whispered. Hips swaying like a clothesline in the breeze, Allie cantered up to the guard. Nodding her head, Robin followed suit. The guard just stood there, bits of red trying to find their way out of his nose.

“Hey there, we need all twelve hooves for this little trick we've wanted to try,” Robin cooed, her hoof finding a firm position a little to low for the guard’s comfort.

“L-ladies, p-p-please stand back, o-o-or,” the guard stuttered.

“Plan C!” Allie barked, her hoof smashing into the guard’s head as she grabbed his baton with a wing. The guard just fell to the floor without a whimper, his nose's flood gate breached. “Oh, and may I recommend a really cold shower after this, hmm?”

“We should go,” Robin muttered, her hoof probing around the guard's groin in search of his cell keys.

“You're right,” Allie chuckled, “stallions are too easy.”

“Ah-ha, got-” Robin tried, only for the guard to moan. Her face went red. “Nope, definitely not his keys! Err, sorry about that one.”

Chapter Eight: The Tempest, Part 1

Cauterium blinked. There, standing in the ancient temple’s doorway, were three ponies: the Doc, Azure, and Tesla. For a brief moment, Cau’s mind went blank.

“Damn, that vorked. And all my organs are in place... I think,” Tesla remarked, running a hoof through his mane.

“I told you so,” Doc replied. Azure beamed a smile at Tesla.

Slowly, like sunflowers turning to the sun, everypony’s attention was drawn to the newcomers. “Say what?” Claude asked to nopony in particular.

“Oi!” Gear barked. “We were having a musical over-hey, wait! Aren't you those guys offering the bounty in the first place?”

“Dzere is a bounty on moi ‘ead?” Narc said in a dry tone.

“Hey... hey, yeah!” Gilda said. “What are they doing here? This is my-”

“Our,” Gear intoned.

“-our prey!”

“Oh, ahhhhhh! Now I see!” Gear said in an ‘ah ha’ tone. “This all makes perfect sense.” Everypony turned to look at Gear, who shrugged. “They came in a teleportation beacon... judging by where they are, so far from the actual beacon, it’s a wonder they didn’t materialised in a wall or the floor.”

“I repeat: say what?” Claude intoned.

Gear sighed. “Hey, Gilda. Remember when the blue.... Uh, what’s the word I’m looking for... Tip of my tongue... Mädchen... Girl! Yes, you remember that blue girl, the one standing over there, who sneezed earlier.”

Gilda scratched at the side of her head. “Uh, I dunno. I guess.”

“She put a spy device/teleportation beacon in your left wing when she did that.”

“Wait, what?” Gilda scoffed, running a talon through her wing.

“Other left, Gilda.”

“Hey-what the‽” She pulled out a small black diskette about the size of a poker chip. “You saw this?”

Gear put a hoof to his goggles, pulling them down slightly. “I may wear goggles, but I’m not blind.” He slid them back over his eyes. “I see everything.”

“Well, looks like we arrived just in time,” the Doc said in an authoritative voice. “Listen here: as of 0900 hours, this entire operations is once more brought under the control the Cherchen. That includes this bounty hunting mission. Their heads are now ours to collect. Any failure on the part of any mercs to comply with result in immediate termination on the grounds of high treason against the crown.”

“What‽” Gilda screeched.

“High authority of the crown?” Tesla whispered.

“Shut it. I’m bluffing,” Doc mumbled back. He cleared his throat. “Now calm down, missie. This operation is now ours. But you are not excluded. And indeed, for helping us, you receive a finder’s fee.”

Gilda’s eyes lit up like Hearth Warming morning. “Ooh, that solves everything. Wait, how much are we talking about?”

“A sum equal to or perhaps slightly greater than the amount specified in the warrant.”

“I’m cool with that.”

Gear put a hoof to his jaw, mumbling, “Though I am curious.” Spreading his wings, he made a mad dash for Gilda. Snatching the teleporting beacon from Gilda, saying, “How did you make on so small? Zu klein... Er könnte etwas größer sein.”

“What?” Azure said.

Turning over the device in his hoof and examining every facet of it, he remarked, “The craftsmareship is of the highest quality.”

“Maybe this is the perfect time to exit stage left?” Crimson whispered to Cauterium. “I’m all for a fight. But these guys look serious. I ain’t exactly in the mood to fight unless we have the field advantage.”

Caut shot Crimson a sideways glance. “Since when have you been a tactician?”

“Dude, I got in ‘A’ is history class. Stuff’s easy. I read Sun Tzu.”

“Huh?”

“So, milady, what's your name?” Gear asked Azure.

“Uh, Azure Knowledge.”

“This might be a tad bit fast, but judging by your handiwork... Would you marry me?”

“What-what?”

Claude yawned. “Got anything to add, sugar boy?”

Narc shook his head. “No. Moi was having fun with the song and then by watching this.”

“Kay. This is kinda borin’ me. I’mma rest my eyes. Wake me when they stop blabberin’ and get to fightin’.

“Gotcha, beau.” Claude crossed his forelegs over the back of a pew, resting his head upon the middle of his arms.

“So, are ve going to be fighting or...” Tesla prompted.

“Ah, yez, of courze,” Azure remarked. “We can talk about that later, mercenary. But az for now, would you kindly join in in apprehending theze criminalz?”

“For you?” Gear replied. “Anything.”

“Get a grip, Casanova,” Gilda said with a roll of her eyes.

The Doc turned his attention to Cauterium, who was just standing there and observing the exchange with barely concealed interested. “Ya know, if ‘n you’re going for the ‘aloof bad guy’ look, you’re doing it wrong.”

“Is the fight startin’?” Claude prodded.

“No, beau. Go back to sleep.”

“Kay.”

“I’m bored,” Crimson whinnied.

“Hello, Bored. Nice to meet. Mon name ees Narcissus. ‘Ave you seen mon ami, Crimson Dzunder?”

“Ha, ha,” Crimson dryly replied.

Cauterium facehoofed. “We are so gonna have a bad time.”

Gear shot up a combat stance, matching Gilda’s stance as though he were a mirror of her. “I’m ready. Gilda?”

“Ditto, dweeb.”

Claude raised his head from the pew. “S’it time?”

“Ya, beau. Et ees time.”

“Dandy,” Claude murmured as he pulled out of the pew and into the aisle.

“You know, it the time it took for us to get this far,” Doc remarked, “you fools could’ve outrun us a hundred times.

A bloom of sweat burst on the stone below Cau as he glanced around. His eyes finally settled on an object looming in the upper rafters of the temple. He beamed. “Well, I’ve been wanting to try something new out. Éna astéri.” The ceiling rumbled as if an earthquake were rattling the whole foundation. His horn glowing with an emerald glaze, a large, steel star-like object the size of a door fell from the ceiling. Wrapped in Cau’s magic aura, the star halted it fall just above Cauterium. “Give your soul to me... for eternity. I’ll consume it regardless. Oh, and mind the mess.”

“What?” Claude deadpanned.

“If ‘e begins to sing, moi will kill ‘imself.”

“That's kinda dark, Narc.”

“No, Claude, et ees not. You don’t want to know many songs moi ‘as gone dzrough in dzese past few days. Cau honestly dzings ‘e’s a singer.” Dropping his voice to a clandestine whisper, he continued with, “‘E can’t sing for ‘is life.”

“I heard that!” Cau snapped, nearly losing control of his star.

“Moi knows. Moi wanted you to hear. Dzis ees an intervention. Moi ees helping you, beau.”

Cauterium grumbled under his breath, “I hate everypony.”

“And moi heard dzat. And dza ees a blatant lie.”

“And what, pray tell, is that thing?” Doc dryly inquired.

Cau smirked. “Just a little you I’ve been working on for just such an occasion.”

“Moi does not remember such a dzing,” Narc mumbled under his breath.

“So... he’s bluffin’?” Claude prodded, his voice barely audible even to Narc.

“Hard to say. ‘E is crafty; I wouldn’t put it past ‘im, but I would not be so quick to call ‘is bluff.”

A piece of the star chipped off of its own accord. “Uh, I meant to do that,” Cau said.

“Right,” Claude deadpanned.

“Gentlecolts... BEHOLD!” Cau proclaimed.

“Uh, you can’t say that unless it’s the first reveal. But I’ll humor ya. What is it, anyways?” Doc probed.

“It is... THE THING!”

“The thing?”

“The Thing!”

Doc rolled his eyes. “You know, Cau, I’m not a mental moron. That’s clearly just some old junk you pulled out of the ceiling.”

“Haha! You fools! It is a marvel of modern science! A device with its own chameleon spell, if only to hide its awesome might from naysayers!”

“Yeah-no... Go fish, Cauterium.” Azure giggled.

“Yeah, so, vit that... vell... Can we fight now?” Tesla prompted, tugging at his color. “I brought my special suit and everything.” Indeed, looking at his outfit revealed a suit very different from his compatriots. Tesla was clad in a navy blue uniform with a matching peaked cap on his head. “I got myself dolled up and stuff.”

“Wow, this is really long and drawn out – which sucks,” Gear opined.

“Tell me about it,” Gilda chimed.

“The Thing will do your doom!” Cau insisted.

“No, you,” Tesla retorted, horn arcing with lightning.

Cau’s star began to surge with emerald flames. The flames arced and swirled about like a hurricane without an eye. “Centlegolts-wait, on. Gentlecolts-”

“‘Ow did ‘e get dzat wrong?”

“-BEHOLD!”

“Azure, check that thing for power signatures.”

“Zure thing, bozz.” Azure’s horn light us, as did her irises, as he stared at the star. “By Celeztia!”

“What?”

“The power level is... OVER FOUR!”

Tesla’s eyes widened to the size of tarantulas. “WHAT‽ FOUR‽ That’s at least three more than one!”

Doc blinked. “We’re all doomed.” The corners of his strained not to break out into a huge smile.

Cau blinked, a bead of sweating rolling down his cheek. “Yes! Four! A powerful number indeed!” The star began to jostled in the air. “Behold-”

“Stop saying that, dude. It’s old,” Crimson chided.

“What, is four bad? Sounds pretty low to me,” Gilda added.

Gear elbowed Gilda. “Just roll with it.”

“Fine.”

“I’ll give you all a chance to just back away,” Cau growled.

“Really, Cauterium?” Doc scoffed.

“Yes. I know you can’t win. And I don’t see a point in mauling you for no good reason.”

“You’re the worst villain ever.”

“I’ll have you know I’m indestructible.”

“Oh?”

“Determination that is incorruptible. From the other side, a terror to behold. Annihilation will be unavoidable. When you’re broke and alone, you’ll know that your opponent was invincible.”

“Yeah, I’m gonna rest mah eyes ‘till they’re done talking,” Claude mumbled.

“Ditto,” Crimson chimed.

“Moi will wake you. Moi will wake you. Dzough, don’t you want to at least sit down?”

“Nah. I’ll sleep standin’.”

“Regardless, I carry out my orders without regret,” Doc replied.

“Take a last look around while you’re alive; I’m an indestructible master of war.”

“Yeah, you’re not fooling anypony.... And I swear to Celestia, if you break out into a song, I will kill you.”

“You don’t seem to understand that you’re the bad guys here. I’m the good guy!”

“Good guys don’t do what you do, Cauterium.”

“Life is a hard thing to describe. But let me sum it yours up for you: you’re going to lose, and we, the good guys, are going to win.”

“You’re the bad guy, Cau. Get it through your thick head. No matter how you justify yourself, you’re the stallion who does the evil here. We were sent by Her Majesty to stop you. The sun herself deems you the bad guy. I don’t know ‘bout you, but I trust the sun. No matter how you justify yourself, Cau, we’ll remember you as just another crazy.”

Cauterium took a deep breath. “I do this for two reasons: because I must and because I can. Yet of these two forces the second in the greater; I do this because I choose to.”

“You’re a Templar at best, Cauterium,” Doc chided. “That or you’re deluded. Probably both. Irregardless of whatever imaginary threat you fight, we will stop you.”

“Then so be it.” A pause. “Hey, boys,” Cau whispered to each of his compatriots. “When I use The Thing, you guys charge out and grab somepony and engaged in a melee. Kay?”

“Thought ya’d never ask,” Claude replied, rousing his eyes open. “That griffon looks tough. It’s mine.”

“Moi calls Azure. She’s a total bi-”

“I got the Tesla dude. Lightning and all that stuff.”

“Okay, we got our targets. I’ll go for Doc. Ready. On the count of three... One... Two... Three!” With a supernatural speed, Cau’s star jerked forwards towards the door. The hiss as it tore through the air was deafening. Tesla and Azure rolled out of the way. But the Doc, giant he was, was a little less-than graceful as he just stood there.

“Bugger me,” Doc mumbled. The star impacted him with the force of a freight train, the wooden object shattering into a million splinters, which then found homes under the Doc’s skin. Doc was sent flying into a stone wall, bashing his skull against the ancient masonry.

And just as quickly as the Doc was lying on floor, so do has Cau’s gang entered the fray of combat. Each going to his predetermined target.

Gear rolled his eyes. “Soooo you’re ‘invention’ was literally to throw a piece of wooden debris at somepony? Bravo. Just bravo. Oh, and Gilda? A ‘four’ on the power scale is laughable... because there's no such thing as a ‘spell power scale’.”

***

Five seconds after initiation of combat.

“Get off me, you pig!” Azure barked.

“Owwwww… Eh, sorry, mademoiselle. Moi did not see dzat hole in dze floor. ”

“I ZAID GET OFF ME!” Jerking a leg, she snapped it at Narc, pushing her away from him.

“Oi! Moi is the victim here; moi mane is all... dirty.” He glanced around his dark enclosure. “Geat. Dze floor fell in. Welcome to dze basment, Azure.”

“You dragged me into a bottomlezz pit!”

Narc rolled his eyes, rousing himself to his hooves. “Moi is no happier.” A trickle of dust and dirt fell onto his shoulder, prompting him to jerk about in an effort to clean himself.

“There’z no way out but through the damn roof!”

Narc rolled his shoulders. “Dzis place ees a mouse trap. Dzer is no way out. Like gladiators or highlanders, dzere can be only one.”

“I get gladiators, but-”

“From a book Cau had moi read,” he said with a dismissive wave of a hoof. “Mon point ees dzat we will have to kill each other – okay, probably just beat one another senseless.” He ran a hoof through his mane. “And moi knows moi will be victorious.”

Azure smeared a cocky grin over her muzzle. “Hmm, perhapz. But I know I will win. You’re a wuzz, Narcizzuz

“Ah, now you insult moi. And moi is a Frenchpony, a Gascogne no less. In dze name of Cyrano de Bergerac, mon papa and a great lyricist, I attack you!”

“You’re a zizzy, Narc.”

“Dzat ees it? Dzat’s all you have to unsult moi with? Do you know ‘ow many enemies moi has made dzat actively seek mon death?”

“Well, no-

“Forty-eight, not counting mares. And yet, you do not even have dze skill to be original in your insults?”

“You’re a huge drama queen.”

“Oh, no, no, no, no!” He jumped to the left. “Friendly: Why, mon good sir, you are such an elegant fop. Why don’t we go out shopping togezer, moi is sure we’d have a similar taste.”

“What?” Azure deadpanned.

“Dzis are the dzings you couldn't have said if you weren’t as bright as dze darkest depths of a rabbit’s ‘ole. Descriptive: Dze way you walk, dze way you talk, dze you run... from as little as dirt. Curious: Excusez-moi, good lady, would you care for a dance-oh, you are a stallion. My apologies. Gracious: Oh, mon fair lady, dzine elegant curves, dzy supple. Oh, wait. You, too, are a stallion.” He jumped backwards. “Solicitous: Be careful where you go, good sir, lest ponies mistake you for dze perfume aisle. Dzoughtful: Here, allow me to put my coat down, miss. Moi would not want you to... Oh, again, dze lady is a stallion. Pedantic: Only the animal dzat Aristophanes himself calls the ‘hippocampelphantocamelos’ could have such a profound odor as yourself.”

Azure, rolling her eyes, began to slowly prod through her bags for the ideal device, unaware that Narc was improvising in order to buy time for himself to do much the same thing.

“Admiring: What a poster child for a walking perfume shop! Naïve: May moi sample some of your perfumes? Respectful: One whiff of you, good sir, and moi can tell you are indeed a stallion of substance. Military: Dze enemy is using poison gas! Ready your masks! Practical: Moi imagines your flowery scent is a major boon for ‘oney bees and dzere production. Dzere! Now you have an inkling of what you might ‘ave said to moi if were witty and a mare of letters. Unfortunately you are totally witless. And you only have three letters in your vocabulary: A-S-S... ass.”

“You are just a barbarian! A gentlecolt would never inzult a lady!”

“Moi is a gentlecolt. Moi does not dress like a fop, dzat is true, but mon sense of fashion and charm are otherwise impeccable. Moi is always immaculately clean, in both physical and mental senses. Moi may not ‘ave been born wiz a stylish figure, true, but moi holds ees soul erect. Moi wears mon deeds as ribbon, mon wit is sharper than any dagger, and when moi walks amongst mares ‘e makes dze faints and awes ring out like a chorus.”

Azure smirked as she pulled out a metal device. “Uh, uh, uh, mademoiselle,” Narc said. “Dzis is one time when dze lady does not go first.” Without much of a warning, a pink vial exploded on Azure’s breast. Immediately, a coil of pink smoke coiled around her body, digging into her pores and nose.

“Wha-wha-what,” Azure stammered.

Narc frowned. “Damn. Wrong one.”

Azure came to stare at Narc as though she were a cat and he a mouse. Her pupils rolled into her head, replaced by bright pink hearts. She smiled at him, a bright blush forming over her cheeks as a drip of drool lolled out of her mouth.

“Huh... Cau was right. Moi does overdo it. Damn overdose...” The concoction continued to wrack Azure’s insides, pushing her libido into super-overdrive. She began to stumble towards him like a zombie. Narc pulled out a blue vial. “Sorry, mademoiselle. Moi is not currently in dze market for a mate.” With a flourish, he threw the position in her face. It shattered, cutting her cheek slightly as a blue powder consumed her sinuses. The hearts in her eyes rolled into her skull as she collapsed to the ground. “Sleep potion. Keen.” Narc glanced to the hole in the ceiling. “Well, dzis could be somzing of a problem.”

***

Five seconds after initiation of combat.

With the guile of a hawk, Crimson eyed Tesla. Wings flared for action, Crimson semi-squatted down, beating his head to an invisible beat. A whip of lightning cracked around Tesla, whose expression betrayed nothing of his tumultuous feelings.

The dust settled around them as they found themselves having fallen through the floor, though into a different room than Narc and Azure’s.

“Seems like it’s you and me, hoss,” Crimson remarked, dusting himself.

Tesla pounded his hard stare upon his opponent. “Tell me: can you see the angels?” He took a step to the right, which Crimson mirrored by stepping to his own right.

“I’m not a good pony,” Crimson calmly replied.

Tesla smirked. “Those aren't the angels I speak of.”

Crimson frowned. “Angels means: a good pony. I don’t see what else you could mean, old stallion.”

The ‘old stallion’ smirked. “Vhat drives you Crimson? Ve researched you; got your background information. And that’s something that I could never get about you.”

Crimson affixed Tesla with a distant look. “I once asked: ‘May I live without limitation’? They told me: ‘No, you may not’. I couldn’t live like that; to be a caged bird is not in my destiny.”

The crackles of magical power continued to swirling about Tesla as he continued to power his spell. “And you act so nonchalant. So arrogant.”

Throwing his head back, Crimson laughed. “Is it arrogance if it’s true‽ Is it arrogance if even the Princesses fear my prowess‽ Is it arrogance when you truly are better than everypony else‽”

“That’s vhat ve call ‘narcissism’, you idiot!”

“A narcissist? We already got a dude with that title – at least in name. Me? No. I just know I’m better. I don’t go out of my to show off. I just know that I am because, on a consistent basis, I’m just better. I. Am Better.”

“A textbook example; you can’t tell the difference between your own perceptions and the real world.”

Crimson blinked hard. “Narcissism. According to the Canterlot Journal of Psychological Conditions: ‘It is a personality disorder where the individual is excessively preoccupied with matters of personal adequacy, power, prestige, and vanity’. I have none of these.”

“Yes, vell,” Tesla chuckled, “you’re villing to defend your self image despite it being a bad choice.” A bolt of lightning tore through the air, burning the oxygen into ozone as it careened at Crimson. The pegasus simply shrugged as he jerked wing out in front of him as though it would actually be fast enough to help him.

To his own chagrin, Crimson could never match a bolt of thunder in speed, though. And just as the bolt would have hit his head, likely killing or severely wounded him, the bolt arced right and into his wing. It merely ruffled his feathers.

“VHAT‽” Tesla barked.

After a yawn, Crimson replied, “Let’s play a little game, old stallion.”

“SUKIN SYN! KAK‽”

“Ya see, there’s a lot a pegasus can do. A lot indeed.” He extended a wing. Taking the unfurled wing, he violently scraped its edge against the archaic stone floor, whipping up a charge of lightning that then ran through his feathers. He bent the wing further, passing it over his face as though it were a paper fan, which was then followed by contrail-like charges of pure electricity.

“Twoyu mat... THAT’S IMPOSSIBLE!”

“Is it?” Crimson cooly replied, cocking a long brow as he scraped his uncharged wing against the ground.

“YES! It took me years to master my lightning spell! Probably more years than you are old!” Thunder now arcing through his feather, he shrugged. At his action, the electrically exploded, becoming a crimson hue. “TWOYU MAT’!”

With a bored, ‘I’ve done this a thousand times already’ expression, Crimson eyed Tesla. “High up in the sky, there are things we do not understand. We don't know how exactly lightning even forms. There are phenomena that only .1% of ponies have even seen – whether stuff that ponies don’t pause.”

“What‽”

“See, they I have two favorites: ball lightning and sprites. Sprites are a crimson weather effect that happens in the mesosphere. I risked my own death to study them, and to learn their power. It is light lightning, and it fit so perfectly with my namesake.” He grinned.

“How.... THa’ts impossible! You couldn’t have flown into the mesosphere!”

“BOh but I have. And I’m going to show you the power of one who studies weather in order to dominate it. It sprite touched me, imbuing me with its feel. And as it shot me to the ground, shot me many, many miles to the ground, but I was caught in a blue jet – another phenomenon. It was then that I knew my destiny, from there that I gained my cutie mark: I am to control that weather which we do not comprehend. I am to be the storm’s eternal vigil. I, Crimson Thunder, am to be better than everypony because the sky chose me to be its warden. And I will be her guardian, her emissary, and her instrument of war!”

Crimson twisted his right hoof back over his shoulder, his wings wrapping around it and rubbing. He kept rubbing his wings over his arm, charging the forelimb with static electricity. The rumbling hiss of thunder erupted from his limb as it was encased in a flowing ball of crimson lighting. “My. Name. Is. Crimson Thunder. And I. Am. Thunder. Incarnate.” He fluttered into the air, his entire body coursing with crimson thunder.

Tesla’s horn broke out in a spurge of of burning plasma excited by charged air particles. The electrical bout of flames caressed over his body, encasing him in a whirling mass of silent lightning. “Then I am thus sound the dirge of the thunder incarnate.”

In a dash of purest energy, Crimson charged Tesla, his right forehooves curled back to punch the unicorn. Bellowing a battle cry, Tesla lowered his head and made to ram Crimson. The flashes blinding them, they collided in thunderous display of sparks – or they would have if not for the fact that, as they neared each other, the explosion knocked them both backwards.

“Whoreson!” Tesla gasped, wisps of smoke trailing his body.

Crimson, too, found himself sprawled on his back. With his characteristic speed, he jumped to his hooves, though not before putting a forehoof to his chin. “Hmm... That’s never happened before.”

“Likevise,” Tesla grunted, rousing himself to a stand.

“My powers can do a lot. Including stunning the part of the brain that perceives perception – did that on Rainbow Dash. Stupid braud probably thinks I’m faster than sunlight. But... I think I know what happened.”

“Vhat?”

“How do you charge up your magic?”

“I... I don’t know. I just do. It’s a unicorn thing. If ve understood it, ve vouldn't be calling it ‘magic’.”

“Hmm... I charge mine via a negative charge – I find them easier to control... The air here is pulsating with negative ions, hardly any positive ones... Which means that both of us use our charges negatively... Which means that our charges repel.” He frowned. “Which means that, no matter how we fight, it’ll end in a draw ‘cause neither of us can touch the other. Which means that-” he flared his wings, diving into the sky, towards the hole in the ceiling “-that this is now officially boring.”

“Vhat‽ You’re just leaving me here‽”

“Yep! I’mma go watch Cau fight. I stashed some popcorn somewhere-” His voice became unintelligible as he flew into the temples’ rafters.

Tesla just stared up at the hole in the roof. “Well... Fu-”

***

Five seconds after the initiation of combat.

As the last bits of dust settled, the floor began to creak beneath Claude. Having already fallen through the floor into a dim room, he wasn’t quite so eager to do it again. And the fact that he had fallen through with Gilda was only worse.

“I hate everything,” Claude growled as the floor beneath him gave way. Jerking a hoof forewards, he snared Gilda’s right hind leg, dragging her down with him.

“Get off me, dweeb!” Gilda snarled as Claude’s weight forced them through the floor.

With a resounding thud, either body landed, each having the wind kicked out of their lungs. Looking upwards, either body saw they were some two stories from the main area of the temple.

Gilda growled, “That’s it! I’m gonna tear your eyes out!”

Leaping to his hooves, Claude replied, “No ya won't... Are you a girl?”

“Yes!” she spat. “I’m a lady. I’ve got all... that stuff.”

Claude grunted. “Fightin’ ladies,” he mumbled. “Grandpa, you would not approve.”

“Speak up! I can't hear you!”

Grinding his teeth, he remarked, “Ya wanna fight me, then?”

“I’m gonna rip your face off!” True to her word, she slashed a particularly sharpened talon at Claude’s face. Yet Claude jerked his neck to the side, causing Gilda’s talon to miss by mere centimeters. The smoosh of her talon still dispersing the air, Claude jerked his head forward, headbutting her right in the chest.

Gilda, sharing her wings, used the force of his attack to propel herself backwards. Having little room to maneuver without risking flying in utter blackness, she flapped her wings as she made a beeline for Claude. With red in eye and want for red on claw, she once again swiped a talon at Claude once again. Waiting until the last possible second.

She only mostly missed, the tips of her middle-left talon gouged a deep furrowed below Claude’s left eye. She moved to spin around and attack him again, but Claude snapped his jaws around her tail, forcing her to the ground lest she risk tearing her tail off.

Having forced her to the ground, Claude laughed. “I underestimated ya, lass! Good. I like a good fight.” He put a hoof to the gash along his face. “Now see, that won’t due. Now I’ve gotta avenge myself. To bad yer a girl, or else I’d rip your wings off and choke you with them.”

“I’m a girl, you sexist! But that don’t mean I can’t kick any less ass!” She lunged at him, only for Claude to sock her in the neck. Gilda gasped, grabbing at her throat.

“Come again, operator?” Claude remarked.

“I’ll kill you!” she squawked, steadying her body from the blow.

“No ya won’t,” Claude replied, spinning around to buck her in the face.

Gilda thrust her whole body backwards, forcing herself into a tumble, though missing Claude’s attack. Barreling back at Claude, she slashed with her talons, one of which was stained maroon and aimed to stain its brothers in kind.

Physically throwing himself backwards, Claude almost shot out of Gilda’s reach. But almost is a definite word. And as Claude readied himself for another attack, streaks of crimson ran down his side.

The griffon smirked. “Well, how ‘bout that.”

Claude grunted. “Seems like we’ve got a long dance ahead ‘o us. Care to dance, gal?”

“You know it!”

***

Five seconds after initiation of combat.

Doctor Power Pill slow pulled himself from the floor, his body covered with dust and splinters. Cauterium put a hoof to his glasses, pushing them closer to his face. “Well, well, well, Doc. I guess you really are a glutton for punishment.” As he finally brought himself to a stand, Doc’s left foreknee gave in, collapsing back to the ground. “Ooh! Did I break your knee! Sweet!”

“Oi, scientist-type guy,” Gear said.

“What?” Cau replied.

“I’m still here.”

“So?”

“Tag: fat guy’s out; Gear Grinder is in.”

“Not...fat,” Doc groaned. “And... if not for... fact that... lost medicine bag... during teleport...”

Gear galloped over to where Doc was, standing before him. Then, spinning 180°, he positioned himself to face Cauterium. “Really? You?” Cau chuckled.

The pegasus flared his wings as he took a step forwards, growling, “Tanz mit mir.”

Cau nickered. “Oh? I’m sorry, I don’t speak your barbaric tongue. And last I checked, your homeland-”

Gear jumped into the air, barreling for Cau before he could finish. “Laast uns tanzen!”

Chapter Nine: The Tempest, Part 2

“Schenk mir ein Wunder!” Gear barked, leaping backwards and avoiding a strike from Cauterium. A layer of dust fell from the ancient rafters, prompted by his voice.

“Here's the deal,” Cauterium replied through bouts of panting. “You're not gonna win, and this fight is going to irritate me. So you're free to head off now, if you want.”

“Funny. You. Here's my deal: you give up, I turn you in, I then swim in money for many a good year until I spend it all on useless knickknacks, as is my custom.” Smiling, Gear pulled out a small pineapple-shaped copper device out of a bag.

Cau's eyes focused on the device. “Wait... that isn't what I think it is, is it?”

“This thingy? I built it during a fit of sleepwalking.” He brought his teeth to a pin at the pineapple's top, proceeding to bite down and pull the pin off. “One... Two... Three...” Gear launched it through the air, shouting, “Puttin' the pineapple in there!”

The pineapple clattered upon the stone floor, rolling across long-ago mothballed carpets until it stopped at Cauterium's hooves. Rolling his eyes, Cauterium picked the device up in his magic – “Sometimes it's really great to be a unicorn” – and hurled it back. It sailed through the air before clobbering Gear on the forehead.

A flash of white light and a bang followed as the device hit the ground. Cauterium smirked. But as the purple spots disappeared from his eyes, he beheld Gear still standing exactly where he had been a second earlier. Expression blank, the pegasus stared at his hooves, stared at where the pineapple had exploded. A white ball of feather clucked as it looked back up at Gear.

“What,” Cauterium deadpanned.

Like rusted clockwork, Gear turned his attention back to Cauterium. “You know, in a weird way, this makes sense.” Cauterium's eyes twitched. “This explains where my cyber chicken went.” He poked at the chicken. “No, wait. This explains where my eggs went and why I need to run to the grocery store after this. The cyber chicken is still on the loose. Probably involved with a murderous rampage, knowing Cluckers.”

“I... am going to pretend that made sense.”

“Cool.” He picked up the chicken and put it in his bag. Satisfied, he flashed Cauterium a toothy grin as he flared his wings out. “Seid ihr bereit? Seid ihr soweit?” He uttered a single sinister chuckle as he jumped into the air, hovering five feet from the earth. “Willkommen... in der Dunkelheit.”

Horn coursing with emerald-colored magic, Cau asked, “Why do you insist on speaking that barbaric tongue?”

“It's my mother tongue,” Gear replied in a tone so calm that it almost sounded insane.

“Ain't that great. Perhaps if your peoples could unite as a single nation, then you'd have a tongue worth knowing.”

Gear chuckled. “Yeah–no. You can't unnerve me or stuff. I'm immune. Know why?”

“Enlighten me,” Cau replied in a dry tone.

“'Cause I have a jetpack powered by cola,” he remarked, pulling out a backpack out of his bags and putting it on.

“What.”

“Veni-” he activated a small switch on his pack “-vidi-” like a rocket, he aimed his body at Cauterium “-vici!” Nothing happened. “Well then,” he said, tossing the pack to the ground, “I don't suppose we can settle this like gentlecolts?” Gear landed on the ground.

“You mean: armed with heavy sticks on a rotating plate above a pit?”

“We could discuss country matters?”

“Mine, yours, or Equestria's?”

“I was thinking the one neither of us have.”

“As in, cunning stunts?”

Gear shrugged. “How quaint.”

“A dual of wit? With orchid backing?” Cau asked, rolling his eyes. “Then I insist that we get thee to a nunnery.”

“But then my queynte honor goes to the dust.”

Cau blinked. “Are we making archaic puns?”

“Dude, don't ruin the joke. I was having fun.” He leapt into the air. “Back to a physically brawling, eh?” Gear pulled out glowing T-shaped object. “Don't know what this does.” He shrugged. “T-shaped thingy, bring forth doom!” Gear yelled, throwing the thing at Cau.

Hitting him in the chest, Cau grunted. “How... annoying.” After clattering to the ground, the T began to hiss for the sum of three seconds. Cau took a breath. “Why does it smell like blueberry mango? The hay kind of T-shaped thing is this?”

Gear blinked. “Suddenly so much makes sense.”

“What?”

“You see, dude, that T apparently held a fast-acting and short-lasing but highly-effective neurotoxin. I was wondering where the songs were coming from.”

“Neurotoxin? What kind?” Cau asked, backing away from the T.

“You know how when you go to the dentist and they give you laughing gas?”

Cau cocked a brow. “Yes.”

“You know how it doesn't make you laugh, like, at all?” Gear asked, to which Cau nodded in response. Gear licked his lips. “This is laughing gas' more powerful cousin. Although this also does what its name implies.” He smirked. “I've got a gadget for everything – though seldom do I know what it does do I know 'till after the fallout has cleared. What do ya think?”

A pause. Cau's left ear twitched as his right eye did much the same. “I must admit your little tricks are amusing. I bet you've a gadget that serves tea. Now here's you chance to take a shot at me,” Cau sung. A pause. “Wait... where did that come from? And why did I sing it?”

Gear put a hoof to his goggles, smirking as he adjusted them. “You know of laughing gas, now meet singing gas!” He geared into his bag and pulled out a gas mask. After putting his goggles away, he slipped on the mask. “Let's dance!” he bellowed, charging at Cauterium.

“Hope your hoof is hot! Come on, clown, let's see what you've got!” Cauterium sung, dodging out of Gear's way. The pegasus pulled out a monkey wrench with a myriad of buttons on it. Pressing a button, the wrench exploded into a swarm of mechanical monarch butterflies, all of which then charged at Cauterium.

“Worst wrench ever,” Gear muttered through his mask. “Of all time.”

Cauterium summoned up a field of green energy. “Think you'll beat with with but a single shot? I'll have to think on that – not!” He threw forth a bolt of green, powderizing the butterfly swarm. “For this moment you'll have to wait!”

“Why?” Gear asked, putting out a sword with sawed teeth for edges. “Wait, how'd this useless thing thing get in here?” he inquired, tossing the weapon aside.

“'Cause you're only second rate!”

“That so?”

Cau laughed. “You might think you can beat me, yet you're so tame. For you know nothing of the inventor’s game. You've built nothing great to date. You’re only second rate!”

“I think I'll sit back and grab some popcorn as I wait for him to finish,” Gear muttered.

“Look coward: magic power beyond your grasp in either hoof. Even my mood is cool, my affect cool and aloof. But if you’re not convinced that I’m invincible, put me to the test! Just use your gear to put me to final rest! I'll lie here and wait on your crucible.”

“I do not think you know what that word means,” Gear offered. “But I've got means so keen.”

“Put me in the trap. But you'll never land your name on the map! I’ll make a great escape. Your head over my mantle will I drape. You’re only second rate!”

“Keep talking like that and I'll call this a date. Celestia knows it's already going better than most of mine. (Which, for the record, often end with me on fire and the mares demanding I never so much as look at them ever again).” He tightened his gas mask, then tore through the air at Cauterium.

“Abra-kabra-dabra,” Cau shouted, casting a wave of green magic. “This one's gonna swipe ya!” He shot the wave at Gear. “You'll end with a puff. It'll be just enough.” Gear shot up at the last second, dodging the attack. “Missed by the breadth of a hair. But for the next attack, say a prayer!”

“Who to? Is your head full of air?” Gear remarked, eying Cauterium.

Crimson Thunder flew up from a hole in the floor, proceeding to land in the rafters. “'Sup guys? Where's that music coming from?”

Cau laughed. “Keeping coming 'till you faint! Then I'll do to you as I do a maiden's quaint!”

“But in the aftermath don't they all say a complaint?” Gear asked.

“Yo!” Crimson whistled. “Why are ya singing? Show some restraint.”

“I'll do it here and tell it straight: You're only second raaate!” Cau threw a hoof up. “You'd better be prepared for pýrini-kólasi savages, because you're only second rate! So, you poor unfortunate soul, you need some self-control. You should have stayed home, you're momma knows best!”

“Es ist mir ein Fest,” Gear replied, shrugging.

“Still think you've got what it takes to play with the big boys? Ready to abandon your mechanical toys?”

Gear tightened his mask. “Zum Glück bin ich verrückt!”

“Let me pontificate upon your sorry state: You're only second raaaate!”

“Du sagst, bin ich anders. Ich sag Du hast Recht,” Gear sung in response. “Du sagst Dir gehts praechtig. Das heisst Dir Gehts schlecht. Ich bin unersaettliche, Krieg neimals genug. Fass in Deine Wunden, und schuere die Glut!”

***

Spike paused, staring at the brown duffel bag before him. “So... is this?”

Twilight, after biting her lip, replied, “Yeah, I think that's the Doc's. Why?”

“It's filled with... stuff.”

“Spike!” she snapped. “Don't go through other ponies' things! What's wrong with you?”

He gave Twilight a dry stare. “He teleported away, Twi', and during the process he forget his equipment.”

“This... thing... kicks... FLANK!” Pinkie yelled, her eyes darting about her small mechanical dog. She poked it on the head, prompting it to yip. “OOOOH! IT YIPPED! IT YIPPED!”

Rarity, struggling to hold back a grimace, said to Pinkie, “Uh, darling? Perhaps you could stop toying about with your... thing, and instead-”

“It's not a thing!” Pinkie snapped. Picking the dog up and holding it in the hoof with something akin to reverence, she whispered, “It's like a way of life...”

“Anypony else a mite bit disturbed by that?” Applejack asked, rubbing the back of her neck.

“Just imagine,” Pinkie continued, her tone a little too close to madness for anypony's comfort, “if we could mass produce these things. Think of it... What if we could make on of me?” Her eyes went wide, sparkling with tiny stars. “Think of it: me, Pinkie, being everywhere at once through robotics... The possibilities-”

“Are terrifying,” Spike offered.

“-are endless,” she cooed, stroking the dog. “What if – and just go with me on this – we could build a giant one of these? One whose partying potential could very well go down in songs, plays, movies, and ballads for eons to come?”

“Well, that's more than just mildly disturbing,” Spike stated. “A-anyways,” he said to Twilight, “all I'm saying is that maybe we could find something to help us in here. I mean, you can hear the fighting through that... thingy, and it doesn't look like they're winning out there.”

Twilight cast her eyes to the mechanical device held aloft by her magic which was broadcasting two song both sung in two different languages, only one of which she understood. “That still doesn't give you the right to go through his things.”

“Ich bin auf Bewaehrung. Nein, gut bin ich nicht. Dein haesslicher Bruder, ein Schlag ins Gesicht.” the device sang. “Was ist schon normal hier. Und wer ist hier... Wer ist hier Krank!”

“What are they saying?” Dash demanded.

“Hay if I know,” Spike muttered.

“Spike, watch your language,” Twilight said in a flat tone.

“Look, I don't give a flying feather about any of this, I just want to-” Dash gritted her, her words coming out as nearly a growl “-ram my hoof up his... Argh! I hate feeling useless!”

“How come she gets to do it?” Spike asked.

“B-because she's, uh, well, she's...” Twilight stammered.

“Hypocrites, one and all,” he muttered. Spike continued rooting through the bag he was standing next to, eventually pulling out a card. “All hope abandon, ye who enter here,” he read aloud.

“Twilight, how do we go to wherever it is they are and help out?” Dash demanded.

“Wir brauchen feuer. Wir atmen Benzin...” the device continued. “Schampus, Schlitten, Zitzen, und wir in!”

Another voice from the device rhymed with, “Second rate, on here or any scene!”

“Seriously, what are they sayin'?” Applejack questioned. “It don't make a lick of sense.”

Rainbow Dash, prancing in place, as if preparing for a fight in the most nonsensical way possible, hissed, “I don't care. I just want to... Grgh!”

“Sugarcube, would you just calm down?”

“No! I. Hate. Not. Doing. Anything!”

Applejack rolled her eyes. “Same goes for me, but ya don't see be prancing about in place, now do ya?”

“Well, no,” Dash replied, slumping her wings. “But-”

“Dearie, why not just take a deep breath?” Rarity offered.

“She's not... urh,” Spike mumbled, pulling out a book from the Doc's bag. “Huh. 'The Beast and The Harlot' is its name.” He flipped it open to a random page. “She's a cage for every unclean spirit, every filthy bird; and makes us drink the poisoned wine to fornicating with our kings,” Spike read under his breath. He frowned, looking up at Twilight. “Twilight, what does 'fornicating' mean?”

Twilight blinked, her cheeks going red. “When you're older,” she hastily said in a nervous tone, using her magic to lift the book out of Spike's hands.

“I was reading that,” he groused.

“You don't read half the books I give you. So why are you so upset by this one?” Twilight asked, not actually expecting a satisfying answer. A smug smirk crossed her lips as Spike opened his mouth, only to close it and cross his arms.

“Giant action fighting robots of party,” Pinkie muttered, winding up the mechanical dog again.

“Because...” Dash growled. “I-I-I just hate feeling useless... you know?” She shrugged her wings. “It's just...” Dash gritted her teeth. Then she sighed.

Spike sighed before scanning the room around him. It was some sort of underground command center of some sort, like in those Con Mane comics. Now, granted, to his chagrin there was no nerd around to produce super cool spy gadgets, instead there was just stone. In fact, the more he looked at it, it looked part crypt. There ceiling were unusually high and vaulted, like in Princess Celestia's throne room, though the floors were a super cool light-bluish gray tiling, which is what really made it look like Con Mane's layer.

Though glancing around, he was a little disappointed by the lack of self-propelled carriages that all really cool super agents were supposed to have. For a brief moment he wondered how a carriage could drive itself, only to forget it as he remember an old mantra related to fiction: “Just relax.” Continuing to observe his surroundings, he noted that the only entrance and exit was located in an obscure door in the Treowth Cerchen building, which was located in the government quarter of the Canterlot City. He recalled how once, when he was a hatching, Spike had built a large structure out of building blocks, and Twilight had come along and freaked out over how unsafe it was that the building only had a single entrance. (Apparently it was a fire hazard; thus Twilight had to fix it and then instruct Spike as to why a building needed multiple entrances/exits.) Spike rolled his eyes at the memory as he snapped back into the present.

Ignoring the discussion between the girls, as they had mostly been ignoring his anyways, he turned his attention back to the duffel bag. Cocking a brow, he came upon a small inscription stitched into the interior of the bag. “Goth withra uns,” he muttered. “Wonder what that means?” A pause. “Goth with... us? What could that mean?” He looked beneath the inscription, where another one lain. “Sunno withra mik? Uh... Let's see... Sun-no... Sunnie boy? Maybe it just means sun?”

Spike blinked, phasing out to a time when Twilight had been studying ancient history. All that night she had been mumbling things related, in some way, to ancient mythology. But to the then young Spike, he only reminded a few tokens names, like “Juno.”

He shook his head. “Focus, Spike. Focus.” Spike looked back at the second inscription. “Maybe it means 'Sun with Mike'? That kinda makes sense, I think.” He frowned, puzzled. “No, no it doesn't make sense in the least bit. And what does 'Goth' mean? Maybe those weirdo ponies that dress in black that Twilight tells me to stay away from?” He furrowed his brow. “Why is this so confusing...? And more importantly: Why do I care?” Spike facepalmed, groaning, “Look at me, I've become Twilight.” Eyes moving down, he noted a third inscription. Looking with a detective's eye, he noted that the final inscription was stitched in a lot more recently, as the other ones were slightly discolored with age. “Mena withra uns... Why does the Doctor put stuff like this in here?”

Moving his face out of the bag, Spike asked, “Twilight, what does 'Mena withra uns' mean?”

She glanced over her shoulder. “I don't know, sorry.” Twilight went back to discussing whatever with her friends,.

“Have any guesses? Or maybe you know what 'Goth withra uns' or 'Sunna withra mik' means?”

Twilight looked back at Spike. “I really have no idea, I'm sorry.” A moment's pause. “Though, if it helps, Equestrian is one of the only – if not the only – modern language that uses the 'th' sound.” Smiling, she looked back at her friends.

Spike opened part of his mouth in disbelief, shaking his head and shrugged. “The flying feather is that supposed to help me?” he said under his breath. Cracking his knuckles, he muttered, “Alright, so we have an ancient language that kinda sounds like modern but isn't, and the guy who left it here is...” Cocking a brow, he reached into the tag, pulling a wrapped object out. “A... muffin,” Spike said, unwrapping the object. “He had a muffin in here?” He glanced at Pinkie, who was winding the clockwork dog up again. “She'd so probably kill me if she found out I was eating something that's not hers.” Gritting his teeth, he continued with, “Buuut I'm kinda hungry and... apparently talking to myself like a crazy pony.” A pregnant pause. “Eh.” Spike's teeth sunk into the muffin, gouging out one huge bite.

Mulling over the taste, he mumbled, “Blueberry? No. Banana? Kinda, but no... A-apple?” Using his tongue, he swished the muffin around his mouth. “Has a bit of a grape... flavor... Tastes kinda like the smell of wine and... cat litter? I know I taste of a bit of fire ruby.” Swallowing, he took another bite. “Whatever it is, it's good.”

Twilight glanced at Spike. “Where did you get that muffin?”

Spike stared at Twilight as he finished chewing. “Found it.” He took another bite, chewing it as slowly as molasses.

“Found it where?” she asked, eye narrowing.

“Around,” he replied through a mouthful. Twilight pursed her list to the side, glaring at Spike. “What?”

“Spike, you didn't steal that, did you?” she inquired in a steely tone.

“Nope.”

“Then where'd you find it, huh?” Twilight demanded.

“Randomly just sort of appeared here. So I ate it.”

Disbelief awash in her tone, Twilight said, “It just appeared there, all by itself?”

Spike's stomach let out a ferocious roar. He glanced down at his stomach before he shot Twilight a deadpan expression. “Well, forgive me for starving. I missed breakfast, you know.”

She blinked. “You did? But I could have sworn-”

“I was on my way to eat the food I'd lain out when the girls appeared. I spent the time with the story, intending to eat afterwards. That never happened...”

“What's gotten into you just now? You're acting... well, acting rather odd.”

Spike's stomach growled again as he finished the muffin. “I think it's something I ate, or lack thereof.” He blinked. “Since when do I say 'thereof'?”

“I don't know. I can't recall you ever using it.”

Tilting his head to the side, Spike groaned, “My stomach feels off.” A pause. “And my diction does too.” His eyes fell to his hand, where crumbs of the muffin still stood. “Twilight, are you pondering what I'm pondering?”

“Um, are you feeling okay? Aside from the stomachache, that is.”

“Allow me to pontificate,” Spike replied: “the perimeters of my assignment was described to me without significity, Twilight. I was lead to understand that I was to deposit myself upon the ground of which I now lie. It was likeways implied without due clarity that any embellishments of said perimeters would not be advisory.” He blinked. “I don't know what most of those words meant,” Spike groaned, rubbing his head.

“I don't think you-” Twilight shook her head. “What exactly did you eat, Spike?”

Spike's head twitched to the left. “What it is that I have consumed, and it even now as we speak is pursuing the offending foodstuff is on its way through my stomach or perhaps, if it went down fast enough, my intestines, was none other than a solitary muffin of some variety unbeknownst to the dragon who stands before you plainly and humbly... Twilight! I don't know what these words are!”

Twilight closed her eyes, taking a deep breath as she ran a hoof through her mane. “Give me a moment to think, Spike,” she said in a calm, collected tone.

“I am most dubious of your methods, Mistress Twilight,” Spike groused. A pause. He groaned. “The one before you wishes to lay his head upon the ground sullen with dirt; however, methinks this shall be nigh unproblematic,” Spike said, lying down on the ground. “There is a hotness in my gut, Mistress Twilight; it pursues through flesh and sinew to create fire, like eating those peppers specifically designed with the intent of being so spicy that one is forced to reconsider eating them lest the consumer perish... I hate big words.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Spike spied Rarity cantered up to Twilight, whose eyes were still closed, as she was still in deep thought. Rarity cocked a brow at Twilight, only to have her attention drawn to Spike, who by now was curled into a fetal position behind Doc's bag.

“Er, Twilight, darling, is Spike alright?” Rarity probed, staring at Spike.

“I'll get back to you on that – I'm trying to fix this,” Twilight hastily replied.

“Err, okay then... Spike, dear, are you okay?”

Spike sighed. “My liege, and madam, to expostulate. What majesty should be, what duty is, what day is day, night night, and time is time, were nothing but to waste night, day, and time; therefore, since brevity is the soul of wit, and tediousness the limbs and outward flourishes, I shall be brief. Ego nocere.”

“Um, Spike?”

“In quintessential summary: I am less-than fine,” Spike groaned, rolling onto his back. He took his left arm, grabbing at the ceiling. “A poison, a virus by the ancient word, have I ingested; even now, the scourge burrows into my flesh, seeps into my wounds-to-be, and flourishes without predator within mine stomach.” Left hand still extended to the sky, he closed said hand into a fist, bringing to his face and closing his eyes. “O, to gaze up at the heavens with my head upon thy breast. To be able to long for such privileges, yet to be struck down by the brand of fate's cruel joke... Oh, the irony.”

Rarity blinked. “So, you have a stomachache?”

Twilight facehoofed, sighing, “It's worse than that.”

“Worse? How do you mean?”

Blowing a stray hair from her face, Twilight turned to Rarity. “I'm going to avoid being passive-aggressive here, but Spike ate a strange muffin... and a strange sort of one he took from the Doc's bag.”

“Alack the day, he's dead, he's gone! Is Heaven so cruel?” Spike muttered.

Twilight blinked. “Have you been reading my Shakestallion stuff? I'm pretty sure that's the second time you've pseudo-quoted him.”

“Ah,” Spike groaned, “to bold her dead in my lap.”

“Sweet Celestia,” Twilight muttered, facehoofing again. “I'm not even going to explain just how perverted that it, at least once you understand the ye olde euphemisms.”

“Is there anything we can do for him?” Rarity asked.

Frowning, Twilight replied, “It depends on what's the cause of his illness. If it's a toxin, there’s not much I can do. If, however, it's some sort of magical effect, I might be able to help him... if I can, uh, remember the spell.”

Rarity blinked. “Why, you forgot a spell?”

Rubbing the back of her neck, Twilight replied, “Well, I, uh, it's sort of a spell I never really used... and it's a foreign spell... and not not my native language... and I might have only skimmed it in the book... and it's technically classified as combat magic... and I-”

“Twilight,” Rarity said, holding up a hoof, “it's okay.”

Twilight took a deep, steadying breath. “Okay, here goes the spell. Let's hope it's some sort of magical side effect.” She took a step forwards, then knelt down and put her forehooves on Spike,who grunted. Again, Twilight closed her eyes, focusing with all her considerable wit on recalling her chosen spell. A pregnant pause passed without incident. “Abzug-Bedienung, Mittelstark,” she whispered. Her forehooves glowed with a light raspberry-like color, the aura coursing into Spike's stomach, where her forehooves lay upon. A minute passed as Twilight took her forehooves from Spike, standing back up.

“Anything?” Rarity prodded.

“Were I to answer 'yes', my nose would grow three feet,” Spike groaned.

“Why is he talking like that?” Rarity asked.

Twilight sighed. “Side effect of what I'm now sure is a toxin. The question is: what kind of toxin, is it deadly, and can it be cured? Because I don't know of anything that might do this to a dragon.”

“Not to point out the obvious yet likely impossible, but I think I might know who might be able to answer those questions.”

Flashing Rarity an arched brow, Twilight stated, “Shoot.”

“Wouldn't the good Doctor know?”

Twilight blinked. “He... It was his muffin, so if anyone would know, it'd be him...”

“Twilight, is there any chance you could teleport us – or at least Spike and yourself – to him?”

“Why are they still singing‽” Dash demanded from afar. “Sweet Celestia, I can still hear them from the talky-thingy!”

Gritting her teeth, Twilight replied, “That might work... but how would I teleport us to him?”

“If I may be so brash as to offer my two bits, madam,” Spike groaned, clawing to his feet. “You require a certain personal object in order to track any one pony, am I most correct?” Twilight nodded. “Then forgive my boldness, but-” he pointed to Doc's bag “-our compatriots has misplaced the vast majority of his work-related belongings. Thus I presume we can apprehend one of his more intimate belongings from yonder container, then use said fetish to track his whereabouts down to a T. And being that you're unmatched in sorcery, save for dearest dames Princess Celestia and Luna, I'd wager the cockles of my heart that you could transport us seven comrade-in-arms to the location of the battle royale taking place, which we can hear from the loquacious device left by Azure. Excuse my brevity.” He collapsed to the ground. “The burns seeps into places I wasn't aware I possessed, turning from magma to icéd crystal within a matter of nanoseconds – zounds! O Anointed One, why does it antagonize me so?”

Twilight blinked. “I... want to say that made sense, but...”

Rarity put a hoof to Twilight's shoulder. “Twilight, try not to over-analyze it. I think he made a good point.”

“The first time always hurts the most, but tonight you'll see... it hurts even more the last time,” Spike murmured.

“Twilight, dear, perhaps we should hurry before Spike begins reciting poetry... other than Shakestallion.”

“Yeah, yeah...” Twilight replied, grabbing Doc's bag and opening it. “Hold on, Spike. This is more-than likely a terrible idea, but... I hate to see you like this.”

“The paroxysm of torment now afflicting me, or my sesquipedalian loquaciousness?” Spike groaned.

“Either,” Twilight replied. “Now, what can I use to-”

Spike held up his hand; enclosed within was a prescription bottle filled with small green pills. “These capsules I do present are his favorite. Refrain from requesting how I came to comprehend this, though suffice it to say that it came with the territory.” Spike coughed, tossing the bottle to Twilight, who caught it in a field of magic. “Have at it, my Mistress.”

“Mistress?” Rarity asked, inched her head back and raising a brow.

“My implication is that of the archaic use, meaning that Twilight is my feminine equivalent of Master, which itself is the origin of 'Mister'. Thus, Twilight is my keeper, my friend, and, for brevity's sake, I'm calling her 'my lady', though in a more formal sense.” He rolled over onto his stomach before rocking back onto his back. “Words... What do they mean? I get the feeling that I'm not even using them correctly,” he moaned.

Twilight, holding the bottle in her aura of magic, focused her eyes on said bottle, her eyes like a hawk watching a mouse sauntering through a field, the bird intending to kill and eat the rodent. Then, her eyes shut as she focused her whole concentration onto the bottle. “Tracing,” she murmured. Spike and Rarity merely stared as Twilight's lips moved with sound. When at last her eyes opened, her pupils were glowing as bright as the sun, emitting a self-contained aura of night blinding light. “Location: 8.7 kilometers, or 5.4 miles, due east by southeast of Ponyville, in the vicinity of a–no, at the old ruined temple to an unknown deity. Condition: stable but injured. Diagnosis: a broken rib, a dislocated shoulder, and... a blown eardrum..?” A pause, the air still humming with the sound of her magic. Even the other girls had stopped what they were doing, staring too at Twilight. “I've enough energy for a one-way trip, at least a safe one with minimal chances of false dematerialization.”

“So, shall we be off, Twilight,” Rarity prodded.

Twilight's eyes ceased their glow as she set the bottle into its bag. She then picked the bag up, put it on, then levitated Spike onto her back. “I can. Are you sure you want to do this, Rarity? Who knows if this is even a good idea? You might get hurt. In fact, we could all get hurt.”

“The sensation of incendiary ichor torments me without mercy,” Spike griped. “It is not unlike before torn apart, body shred from ashes to ashes and dust to dust, by a blade so fine and sharp as I've never known.”

“Woah, woah, woah – what’s going on?” Dash demanded.

“Perhaps it would be in poor taste of me to mention this, but I no longer am receiving any sensory input from either either my eyes or the promontories of my claws... Bugger me.”

“Girls,” Twilight said with as much confidence as she could muster, “seems like we're going on another trip today.”

Chapter Ten: Post Tempest

A spec of brown as fast as lightning tore upwards and out of the hole in the wooden floor. She twisted her wings around and then sped towards the ground. With a final adjustment of her wings she slowed her descend and gently landed on the floor, right next to a certain pegasus wearing goggles.

“I thought you were down in that dingy little hole. I was havin’ me some fun up here, Gilda,” he said.

She ran a talon though her crest feathers. “Maybe you were, but I wasn’t! That sexist prick down there wouldn’t let me get a shot off on him. I couldn't do a thing to him. So forgiiiive me if I hightailed it outta there like a reasonable griffon would.”

“Wooooh!” Crimson called down from the temple’s rafters.

“Would you shut up!” Cau snapped. “It’s been like this with you all morning!”

“Nah!”

“All of my hate!”

“Yeah, you can count of mine being thrown into the ring as well,” another voice chimed. Shifting his eye, he saw Doc sauntering on up to Gilda and Gear, a toothy grin on his face. “Well now, that was some bell, but whatever goes, goes.”

“And one pony’s loss is another’s gain,” Cauterium replied, taking a step back.

“What a perfect metaphor, Cau. When this is all over, we’re all gonna be the better for it. Well, save for you and your gang of miscreants.”

“I prefer the term ‘all around swell guy’,” Crimson called down.

Cau loudly groaned. “Maybe if you’d come down here, Crimson Thunder, we could get this done is a snap.”

“Nah. I’m the cavalry. When it starts hitting the fan, I’ll swoop down, turn the fan off and probably unplug it, then swoop back up here to brood in the Bat Cave.”

“I... What?”

“Do-not-mock-the-master-plan!” he snapped.

“Don’t you think we should be I don’t know, attacking them?” Gilda whispered.

“Nah,” Gear replied. “Let’s just watch this out. Then we attack like a clever metaphor. Also, I’m doing maths.”

Cau jerked a hoof in the Doc’s direction. “Look at you, you addlepated fool, your body is shaking, your brain and nerves are clamoring for more drugs, aren’t they? You’ve got an addiction to your super drugs, don’t you?”

“Small price to pay for bringing in a monster such as you in,” Doc hissed. “We get you, we win, we ride off.”

“Wir reiten los,” Gear mumbled, kicking a hoof at the ground. “You know, this place is really unstable and we shouldn’t be here, like, at all.” Shrugging to himself, he reached into his pack. “S’pose we ought try to get this over with, mmm-hmm.”

“You should have stayed in Canterlot, Doc,” Cau chided.

“And miss out on all the fun? Why, I’d never dream of it,” the Doc chuckled. “Master, mistress, I’m not your friend, but I’ll be after ya till the end.” Sauntering up to Gear and Gilda, he put a hoof to his breast. “Last blimp missed the go. And ye seven escaped without a goal. Like the N.M.M. mystery.”

“I smell a musical,” Gear muttered, fitting another pack onto his back.

“I know you see it, Cau.”

Cauterium shook his head. “That stars are shining just for money. And your paper tells a story.”

“It feels like dead ponies hate you too, I’d wager.”

“And now another seven’re rising, too.”

Cau laughed. “Don’t you get it, Doc? We are the next Seven!”

“I’m confused,” Crimson said.

Doc waved a hoof at the pegasus in the rafters. “It’s an old joke, you see. Nothing you’d get. Just an affirmation that I’m going to–”

“Up, up, and away!” Gear shouted as he pressed a lever on his new metallic backpack.

“Wait. Wha–” Cau tried, only to go silent as the backpack exploded upwards, propelled by dual nozzles and flying with ballistic intent.

“Yeah!” Gear cheered as his cola-shooting backpack rammed into the ceiling and exploded.

“That...” Gilda looked at Gear, who was still standing besides her and was now soaked to the bone with cola. “...was pointless.”

“No, it wasn’t,” Gear singsonged, pointing up.

“There’s a hole in the ceiling,” Cau muttered.

“Where did the stone roof go? Did it just vaporize?” Doc whispered.

“Uh-uh-uh,” Gear said, waggling a hoof. “Who do you not–” Somepony plopped down on the ground somewhere behind Cau. “Ah, there he is.”

“What did he just do?” Doc asked Gilda. “Wait...”

“Now you see!”

“By the Ninth Level of H–” Cau shouted, only to bite his tongue as he glanced over his shoulder and into the leering smile of Gear. “Crimson!” he shouted, dashing through the temple’s alley.

“Didn’t see that... coming,” Crimson groaned from his position before the temple’s altar. His eyes faced skywards, his legs splayed out, his expression a melange of various muscle twitches.

“It’s just like bug spray,” Gear chirped, “except with ponies and probably a million times worse for the environment. I guarantee you there’s probably already a huge hole in the ozone layer... Wonder if the Princess will notice.”

“Crimson, are you alright‽” Cau demanded as he slid to his knees and up to the named pegasus.

“Pretty sure my veins just exploded. I can feel it in my body... and I’m pretty sure I’ve got pulmonary edema.”

“Wha–”

Crimson groaned, rolling his eyes. “Severe internal bleeding. It means to drown from internal bleeding. Kind of sucks... I’ll be fine. Always am. Always have. Always will.”

“If you had it, then you’d be dead in a few minutes!” Doc called out, and Cau glared at him. “What? My mother was a medical doctor. So what if I’m more of a chemist?”

“I was being sarcastic,” Crimson grunted.

“So was your face,” Gear chimed.

“But I think the soda’s made my wings kinda useless, too sticky. That kinda sucks the big one, I'll admit. But other than that–” he rolled over and jumped to his hooves “–fit as a fiddle.” He pointed at Gear. “Besides, he’s covered it the stuff too. Either way, since I wasn't going to help out so much, they simply took out one of their own.”

“Nah, I’m fine.” Gear flexed his wings. “No damage.”

“Wha–but–how‽”

“Chemicals! The cola didn’t turn sticky until after it got you. The stuff on me?” He shook himself like a dog. “Might as well be food-colored water.”

“Wait! So I’m outta action and you’re good‽”

“Pretty much. Yeah. I’m not idiot; I wouldn't create something that would sabotage me, mate.”

Cauterium groaned. “Know what? I can handle you all on my own! And I won’t regret to be the one who kills you!” He jerked a foreleg horizontally. “Doc, you’ve met the Hunters before, no?”

Doc scoffed. “You can’t possibly have the ability to use that again! You can’t serious!”

“Qu’il le fait!” a voice called up from one of the holes in the floor. “Et il est!”

“Shut up, Frenchie!” Cau snapped.

“Et keeps moi occupied!” he replied.

“So many holes in the floor,” Gear muttered, peering down into one such hole. “Must go a long way down.”

“It does!” Claude bellowed from the hole.

Cau whistled, and everypony looked at him. “Oi, buddies. See these?” He gestured his head to three emerald balls of fire. “Remember?”

“Oh,” Doc groaned. “Where’s Azure when you need her?”

“Down ‘ere!” Narcissus shouted. “Tell ‘er to get off me!”

The emerald balls of fire exploded outwards, hurling themselves at Gilda, Gear, and the Doc. Before they could even yell, the balls slammed into them, sending their bodies flying across the temple.

“Dude,” Crimson said, “that was pretty awesome... Hey, they wouldn’t happen to less-than living, would they? And I don’t mean zombies. Hate zombies.”

Cau shook his head. “They are alive, if a little broken in a few places.”

“Why didn’t you sue that earlier?”

“Et drains too much magic!” Narc shouted. “‘E was stupid to use et!”

“It worked, didn’t it‽” Cau snapped.

“But you won’t be able to do et for some time now, Cau.”

“Deal with it!”

“So, Cau,” Crimson said, “what are we gonna do now? Have we won?”

“Mighty fine question,” a voice groaned from a hole. Jerking his head, Cau saw Tesla standing between the rotten pews, panting and leaning upon said pews.

“How did you get up here?” he asked.

“Ugh! Same way moi did,” Narc said, brushing dust off of his shoulder. “Eew, so much dust!” He blinked. “Um, moi means, ‘e climbed... Pretend dzat moi said dzat very dramatically, yes?”

“That e’erypony?” Claude asked, dragging himself out of another hole.

“Holes! Flee!” Crimson said to nopony in particular.

“How in Tartarus did you all manage to crawl out of your holes at the same time‽” Cau snapped.

“Ninja training,” Claude said, standing up and brushing ihns shoulder of dust. “I was a ninja in my past life.”

“You believe in dze idea of a past life, beau?” Narc asked.

Claude whinnied. “No!”

“Dzen why–”

“He was being sarcastic,” Crimson called out.

“Oh.”

A pause.

“You know, I am still here,” Tesla said, adjusting his collar.

Cauterium smirked. “Oh, do not think that I have forgotten you, Tesla.”

“Can A ‘ave a Scoltish accent?” Crimson called out. “A promise A wonae say t’much, aye.”

“Shut up!” Narc snapped to Crimson.

“So,” Tesla continued, “since only the retard brigade is here, I assume that you’ve beaten the trained professionals?”

“And that means it’s you,” Cau said, “versus I, Narc, Claude, and maybe Crimson if he feels like it.”

“You’re supposed to say ‘I’ after naming everyone else!” Crimson called out. “I can clearly tell you’re don’t speak Equestrian as your mother tongue!”

“You will shut up or moi will make you smell like the perfume department!” Narcissus snapped.

“No!” Crimson shrieked. “Don’t give me war flashback to the days with my mother! She wasn’t abusive, but she always tested out all her makeup on me before putting it on her! Do I look like a monkey to you, mom‽ Do I‽”

“Someone’s got mommy issues,” Narc muttered.

“It’s because daddy never hugged me!” he snapped. “Well, that was because he didn’t have arms because of an accident before mom had me, but it still counts! I want a tragic backstory too! So what if I’m making it up all up‽ I can dream! Fanfillies love ponies like me!”

“So your mom didn’t perfume you and your dad did hug you?”

“The perfume part is kinda true. She made me wear a dress, since mom wanted daughter. I don’t want to talk about it – it doesn’t make for awesome backstories!”

“Yeah, reeeeal crack team you got there, Cau,” Tesla snarked.

“Can it, Tesla!” Cau snapped.

Tesla frowned. “Why do I get the feeling I felt the iron on and inside the dog?”

“What?” Narc shouted.

Just then Claude’s hoof slugged Tesla in the jaw, sending him sputtering to the ground. With a spare more slugs to the jaw, Tesla's eyes rolled into the back of his head and he began drooling.

“Thank Celly he don’t bleed easily,” Claude remarked, shaking a hoof as he stood up and got off of Tesla.”

“Beautiful! All is set and done – victory!” Narc cheered, hopping in place.

“Yes, we have the victory under our proverbial belts,” Cau replied, looking around the ruins of the temple. “Wow. This place really is a dump.”

“You only noticed this now?” Crimson groaned.

“Actually, yes. But it matters not, I know where to go now!”

“Road trip?” Narc asked, poking at Crimson.

Cau pushed his glasses back. “We’re going to Canterlot Federal Prison.”

“Federal?” Narc asked. “I thought Equestria was unitary, not federal.”

“Okay, so I have no idea what it’s called. Happy now?” Cauterium replied. “Federal just sounds scarier. Confederatory sounds silly. Unitary makes it sound magical.”

“But ‘Canterlot Unitary Penitentiary’ (C.U.P) sounds like a place where you do not want to drop the soap,” Narc chimed.

“Wait,” Claude said. “Why we goin’ to a jail, again? Maybe I’m goin’ deaf in an ear or two, but I’m pretty sure that exactly were we didn’t want to go. I mean, correct me if’n I’m wrong.”

“Try to dzink, con,” Narcissus offered. “Where else do we find the cream of dze evil crop ‘ere in Equestria, where everypony ees so goody-goody four shoes.”

“What’s a shoe?” Claude asked, frowning hard.

“Mon point exactly,” Narc muttered, poking Crimson again.

“Quit poking me!” Crimson groaned. “Or at least get me a hose and wash all of this stickiness off and out of my wings!”

“Moi will stop poking you with mon dzings when moi figure out what dzat smell about dzat soda ees.”

“Root beer mixed with the smell of my aunt's mane,” Crimson groaned. “Auntie! Why didn’t you ever use a different condition! The one you were using sucked!”

“Anyways... Compared to the jails of my home country,” Cauterium said, “the prisons of Equestria are five-star tropical resorts... That might have something to do with our normal prisons doubling as POW camps, which we use for slave labor and for janissary armies. But that’s neither here nor there.”

“Ah, dze old countries beyond Equestria,” Narc sighed. “I wonder how France ees doing?”

“Knowing Skantarios?’ Cau chuckled. “France is probably just another conquest of the Basilea.”

“Shame. Too bad moi never liked France. Such a dirty place.”

Claude whistled. “Ay! You two morons wanna stop daydreaming and get back t’the point?”

Crimson added, “And how will we get there to Canterlot? We just gonna walk or something? I mean, I can get there no problem, but y’all? Not fast enough.”

“Have no fear, young Crimson,” Narc chuckled, pulling something out of his mane. “For you see, I have a dzing!”

“Joy,” Crimson groaned. “Winter’s Eve’s come early...”

“Dzis is Spacebreaker – stole eet from dze Cerchens’ very own HQ.”

“Though the tech behind it is sort of incomplete,” Cau offered.

“What does that mean?” Claude asked, cocking a brow.

“Ozer dzan dze fact dzat eet ‘asn’t been tested and probably will explode? Nozing,” Narc chirped.

“Oh my, what a charmer,” Crimson deadpanned. “You really do know how to make us all feel good.”

“But the equations should mean it’s supposed to work,” Cau added.

“What a world’s difference, and such an elegant and assured way of speaking,” Crimson groaned.

Cauterium facehoofed. “Look – it should be safe, since we stole it from professionals and their math is better than my own. The only bad thing we can count on is that the portal we summon will be active for a good ten minutes after use. But its unstable matrix will cause the local area to be flooded with a sort of magical but nonlethal radiation. Entrance to and fro this area will be impossible, but that won’t matter since we have a teleporter. And if my calculations are correct, we should land up near the final two Elements were hunting – which are in suspiciously close proximity to one another.” He took a breath. “Now, any question?”

Narc poured out a bucket of water onto Crimson, who shrieked and rolled about like a dying fish.

“Everzing ees good on dzis side, Cau!”

***

As the flash of light faded, Twilight, the girls, and Spike found themselves standing in the middle of a ruined, crumbling temple of stone. Sprawled all around were numerous bodies of ponies. numerous bodies of ponies around them. There, standing before the temple’s altar, was a large rectangular door, glowing green.

Gasping, Twilight dashed to the one body she recognized most. “Doctor! Doctor Pill! Are you alright‽”

Opening his eyes the Doc groaned. “Been better. Been worse. S’pose this is about average, all things considered.” He began a hacking cough.

“What the hay happened here?” Dash asked, looking around the room.

“Something awful,” Rarity and Fluttershy said in unison.

The Doc groaned. “Twilight, I know what you and the girls are. You need to get out of here before the radiation burns you.”

“Radiation‽” Twilight gasped.

“Dammit, girl! You and the ladies need to skedaddle through that portal and stop that made bastard!... Stop him before even Celestia burns.” He coughed hard. “Forget me! Go! Go, damn you! Go!”

The girls all looked at each other.

“Now, damn you all to Tartarus! Go through the portal The fate of this damn world’s in your capable hooves now!” The doc exploded into a fit of hacking coughs.

“Is that portal that rectangular thing?” Twi asked,

“Yes!” Doc snapped.

“Sorry! I didn’t know!” Twilight turned to face the portal. “Let’s go, ladies!” As she began to gallop, she called back, “We’ll be back for you, Doc!”

“Tell it to my gravestone!” he rasped.

Chapter Three: Miasma of Gloom

Narcissus grimaced at the metal choker around his neck,even needing to suppressing a cough as the necklace bit into his throat. The sterile light in the ceiling gleamed off the golden-steel of the necklace. The light seemed to twist itself, almost as it becoming its own entity.

His heart pounded and his veins threatened to rupture under the titanic pressure of his blood. Left ventricle, right ventricle – every pump physically shaking his body side-to-side. His pupils dilated, only to be forced back into line by the incredible shine of the beam of energy before him.

Sweat drenching his body, the beads threatening to drip into his eyes, Narcissus eyed the second beam of ‘energy’: a stream of pure darkness that sucked up the light around it like a blackhole. The beam bore into the six Gems of Clarity, its shadowy tendrils seeping out, slithering through the air and into all six gems, draining them of their luster.

“M-moi never put much faiz i-in Up Above,” Narcissus stammered, blinking the sweat out of his eyes, unwilling to so much as inch away from his position for fear of disembowel–no, disensoulment. “But now-” he gulped “-now moi ‘opes someone’s zere.”

The right corner of Cau’s mouth curled into a smirk. “Grim as ever, my friend? Do you still pray to your old god?” Cau shook his head, his amused expression contrasting so heavily with Narcissus’ expression that one could easily mistake the two for being in entirely separate planes of existence.

Narcissus scoffed. “No, she ees dead to moi, as ees everything from dzose times. You should know, your origin ees not unlike mine.”

Everything stopped. The coiled of blackness released themselves from the Gems, dropping them onto the ground, their luster gone and replaced by a stony gray.

“What ‘ave you done wis dze Gems of Clarity, godiche‽” Narcissus shouted, the choker around his neck no longer strangling him. “’Ow could you transform such etalons of beauty and grace into.... into ZIS?”

Cau rolled his eyes. “Are pretty things all you care about?”

“Moi-”

“Calm down, Wielder of Penury,” Cau chuckled.

Narcissus bit his lip, and if he were anything but an herbivore, the pressure of his bite might have broken skin. “Why, oh Déesse, mon elder goddess from the old lands, why? Why are you so cruel to me?” he whinnied, melodramatically raising a hoof to the heavens. “Why, oh why, ‘as moi received such a cursed gift?” he crooned.

“Let me guess,” Cau nickered, “because you’re the epitome of penury?”

“You are so cruel and mean, godiche! Moi was never bitter! Moi is the epitome of generosity!”

“Yeah, right, and my mother was the illegitimate spawn of Princess Celestia and a farmer.”

Narcissus frowned, groaning, “Eh, godiche, moi ‘ave forgotten that there ees no point in complaining to you.” His expression deadened, his posture relaxing.

“And spoken with such elan,” Cau cooed. His expression deadpanned in kind. “You’re such a buzzkill, Narcissus. Why did you start this entire drama in the first place?”

“Moi was not acting! Dzis is ‘ow moi feels!” Narcissus replied in a matter-of-fact tone.

“Look, I don’t care. The fact is that the Element chose you, and now you’re its wielder.” Narcissus sighed. “And it’s fine with me because now we have one fewer moron to find.”

“Anyway, beau, let’s move on. Danger’s passed. Time for dze real show,” chirped Narcissus, his affect utterly changing. “What are we going to do now? ‘Ow do you wanna find ozer wielders?”

‘Narcissus, Narcissus. You never change. As random as ever’, Cau thought.

“Well how do you think I was gonna find them?”

“Moi ‘as no idea,” Narcissus replied, giving an innocent jostle of his shoulders.

“We are going to search at random,” Cau replied, giving Narcissus a sagely nod of his head as he adjusted his glasses. He picked up an object, a triangular thing with fives seals planted in regular intervals, and brought it from a dusty table to his face. “This is my newest invention,” Cauterium beamed. “This little baby is capable of reading ‘my’ Elements, determining whom they choose via a process of-” He shut himself up as he caught Narcissus’ expression.

“Uh, and dzat means what, exactly?” Narcissus inquired, pawing a hoof at the ground.

Cau sighed. “Well, to put it in your language: dzis seals shall glow stronger the closer potential wielder ees, n’est-il pas?”

“Ahh, moi understands now!” Narcissus exclaimed, and Cauterium facehoofed. “By dze way, you ‘ave used ‘n'est-il pas’ wrong.”

*****

The last of the apples rained down from the tree as Applejack stood beneath the canopy, panting, her legs burning from her work. She craned her neck around, her eyes basking in the menagerie of apples, the majority of which had almost all magically landed in her apple cart. A smirk crossed her face as she imagined the look on her brother’s face when he saw just how many apples she had bucked.

A bloom of sweat blossomed on the dirt below her as Applejack wiped the beads of midday sweat off her brow as she went about collecting the few stragglers who had avoided the vices of her cart. As she moved to attach the cart to herself, she heard a voice.

“Applejack!”

Applejack turned her head to an oncoming squad of three fillies as they galloped over a small hill to her. “What’s all the ruckus about?”

“AJ!” panted Applejack’s younger sister, Apple Bloom, one of three member of the notorious ‘Cutie Mark Crusaders’. “Uncle Claude is coming to the Sweet Apple Acres!”

Applejack’s pupils shriveled into little beads. “D-did you say ‘Uncle Claude’?” She gulped. Lowering the volume of her voice to a conspiratorial murmur, she asked, “What in tarnation is he doing here?”

Scootaloo, another one of the infamous ‘CMC’ stepped forward.“Applejack! Is everything Apple Bloom said about that guy true? Does he really eat cute little rabbits for a dinner?”

AJ sighed. “You’ve been listening to Auntie Apple Juice’s stories again, haven’t you? Uncle Claude is a normal pony, he just-” She bit her tongue. “He just has some... uh, ‘personality issues’. That’s all.”

Sweetie Belle shot AJ an incredulous look. “If that’s true, then why did you have such a weird reaction, huh, AJ?”

Applejack blew a puff of air out of the corner of her mouth. “I was just a little… surprised, that’s all.” The three fillies looked between each other. “Anyway,” Applejack dismissed, careful to contain the vague hint of worry in her voice, “since a member of the Apple family’s here, we ought to give him a proper fancy greetin’!”

Apple Bloom frowned. “Sorry, girls,” she sighed to her three friends. “Seems like we’ll have to go try out water skiing later.”

*****

A fairly bulky stallion sat there, chewing a piece of straw-grass in between sips of his tangy apple cider. His sea-blue eyes lazily shifted about, going left to right as though there was nothing before him, during which time he ran a hoof through his short brown mane. Adjusting his green vest, itself the same color as his coat, he sighed.

The air around him was choked in a thick, invisible miasma. It strangled the senses and tore at the lungs, the swelter slowly drowning all but himself in its effects. Reflecting the thicket where the faces of the four ponies before him. Everypony sat in the penumbra of silence that marked the stranger’s own air.

Thoguh to Apple Bloom he was hardly more than a stranger, Aplejack knew him fairl well. He was Claude Gravenstein, and his name was as apt as anypony’s. The Gravenstein apple was renowned for its bitter taste and hard exterior – a grim reminder of the little jokes that destiny played, always cautioning you to name your foals wisely. Although where ‘Claude’ came from was anypony’s guess – Applejack had heard a rumour that his parents were crazy, which is where the name came from.

Applejack cleared her throat. “H-howdy, Uncle Claude! What brings ya here today?”

Claude regarded her with his eyes for what, to Applejack, felt like an eternity. It was not as if he hated her specifically, he was giving her that same look that he gave everpony – a look that, in Applejack’s opinion, was long stuck to his face.

He lapped up the last few drops of his cider, sighing at his sudden dearth of alcohol. “I’m going to Appleloosa,” he said. “On my way there, I came across yer untidy little town and decided ta pay a visit to my ‘relatives’.” Claude stuffed the empty bottle into a vest pocket, returning his critical gaze to each member of the local Apple clan.

“Look at yerselves,” he chided after short pause. “Where are yer manners, yer endurance? Yer shaking like maple leaves in an august breeze from just my gaze. And ya call yerselves workhorses? Pheh.”

Applejack, Granny Smith, Apple Bloom, and Big Mac all exchanged glances, neither willing to respond to Claude – if you don’t have anything nice say, don’t say anything at all. Claude sneered. “Guess ya can’t handle my pressure, weaklings?” He shook his head. “Then I got nothin’ to do with the lot o’ ya.”

He stood up, making his way to the door. As he was halfway outside, he turned his head around and lectured, “This society need discipline and respect. Equestria's heading into the abyss. If Celestia continues her policy of utter pacifism then we’s all gonna turn into a spineless sons-of-mules like yerselves.” His final gesture was to spit at the external wall as he left.

As soon as he was out of earshot, everpony gave a collective sigh.

“What a troublesome pony he is,” Granny Smith opined to nopony in particular. “Good things he leaves if you’re quiet, ah, Big Macintosh?”

“Eeyup,” replied Big Macintosh.

Applejack shook her head. Her uncle had always dismayed her. She had wanted to be his friend, but he was just so unwilling to accept friendship. In a way, he reminded her of Twilight Sparkle – if Twilight had been aggressively mean, nasty, and a self-absorbed holier-than-thou narcissist.

After a minute of curious silence, AJ turned to her big brother and said, “Hey, Big Mac; told ya I could do all that applebuckin’ by myself! Ya owe me five bits!”

*****

Claude Gravenstein grumbled incomprehensible curses as he cantered down a dusty, gravel road all by his lonesome. The very atmosphere around him seemed to tear itself apart as it tried to blow away from him. The birds, no matter the species, halted their songs as he came within earshot. Even the sun seemed to shy away from his as it darted behind the trees that dotted the countryside.

A feeling crawled along the back of his neck, a feeling he knew only too well; the sense of being watched. It was not the first time he had been watched from afar. Ponies who were often too cowardly to approach him often found themselves staring from afar. But this time was different.

Under normal circumstances, all those looky-loos and gawkers were just that. They seldom paid attention for long, and even more seldom paid attention to him after he had left their presence. But to be watching – no, following – him for a good ten minutes was downright unheard of.

And it was ticking him off.

He stopped himself, spinning around to face where he thought the prying eyes were, bellowing, “Show yerselves. End this charade. I know yer here!”

Somewhere from the foliage came the sound of laughter, eliciting a snort from Claude. Out of the bush walked two stallions: a nerdy-looking unicorn with glasses, and a green sissy – at least that was Claude's first impression. They casually, almost menacingly, approached him.

“See? I told you that he’d find us sooner or later,” chuckled the nerdy-type stallion. The sissy didn't reply, he just stood there with a wry smile on his effeminate lips.

Claude eyed the two strangers. “And just who in tarnation are y’all?” To his admitted chagrin, his usual miasma of gloom didn’t seem to bother the strangers in the least bit. To Claude, this meant they were no weaklings, their looks being deceptively deceiving.

The unicorn whipped out a strange, shimmering object. It had five seals of it, one of which was flashing with an almost epileptic fervor. “Greetings. You may call me… Domenus.... Domin... Domi..." He paused for a brief moment, mumbling under his breath. "Er, Aenigmat - yes! You can call me Aenigmat!” Claude rolled his eyes at the atrocious attempt at lying. “Say, friend,” he said in a tone that was almost seductive, “ever had the desire to, say, I dunno, change the country for the good of all of us?”

Claude continued to glare at the two stallions. “I don’t understand what yer talkin’ ‘bout, skinny freaks. Who are ya anyway? And that hay’s with greenie’s stank?”

‘Greenie’ winced. “’Ow dare you, bourru‽ Dzis is my best everyday perfume!”

‘Aenigmat’ chuckled.

“Perfume? What are ya? A filly?” Claude scoffed.

“Ze fact dzat moi is a stallion doesn’t mean dzat moi must stink like a bucket of manure!”

“Yer disgusting,” Claude spat.

“Calm down, Narcissus,” the nerdy-type stallion chided. “We’re not here to talk about just how girly Narcissus is or isn't.”

“And I know yer name ain’t ‘Aenginamterg’ or whatever,” Claude said.

“‘Ees name is Cauterium,” Narcissus offered, giving the named stallion an evil grin.

Cauterium closed his eyes as he took a long, hard breath. Opening his eyes, he turned back to Calude. “You wouldn’t just so happen to be displeased with the current affairs of Equestria, would you, Claude Gravenstein? Is that not the opinion you expressed so thoroughly back at Sweet Apple Acres?”

Claude gritted his teeth, stopping just short of grinding them. “So, what of it? What do ya want from me?”

Cauterium grinned. “We want nothing. But you on the other hoof, you could use something from us – and we offer our gift free of charge.”

“Ain’t no such thing as no free meal,” Claude replied, his tone seeping acid.

“But of course, Gravenstein. But you see that we just so happen to share the same set of ideals. My ‘price’ has been prepaid in full by your very nature-” he paused for effect “-Wielder of Gloom.”

Out of the clear blue sky came the frantic sound of flapping wings, followed by a strange pegasus with a blue mask storming through the treetops.

“Seems like we shall be having of the company this hour, beau,” Narcissus sighed, not even bothering to notice just how little sense his sentence had made, which he did entirely for ‘climatic’ effect.