Harbinger

by Garnot

Rating: teen
Tags: Twilight Sparkle, Gore, Violence, Death, Alternate Universe, Thriller, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Horror, Other
Length: 14083

Twilight interrogates a pony who, for all intends and purposes, is more than he appears, and knows more than he lets on. Sometimes, it is impossible to know the truth and still remain sane.

[TOP SECRET]

From the Equestrian Royal Department of Security, Containment, and Protection.
Subject: [REDACTED]
Interviewer: Princess Twilight Sparkle
Time of interview: [REDACTED]

The following document details the events that took place on [REDACTED]. Princess Twilight Sparkle, head of the newly formed ERDSCP requested access to subject [REDACTED] in an attempt to learn more of the events surrounding project HARBINGER.

The following is a copy of the Princess’ personal transcripts of the event, and are for authorized personnel only. Further questions should be directed at the princess herself.

Any further study on project Harbinger and on subject [REDACTED] is to be carried out by authorized personnel only. [REDACTED] is currently being held in cellblock [REDACTED] and is awaiting final processing by all four princesses.

Published 2014-10-29 06:20:08 UTC
Last updated 2015-12-01 03:37:20 UTC

Part One

The two guards open the door to the interrogation room, eyes holding wariness. “You sure about this, Princess?” one of the guards, a batpony garbed in gray barding, asks me. “Shouldn’t we wait for your brother?” The guard’s voice became venomous. “Or, dare I say, even... Discord?” she hisses out the name.

I give the guard a pat on the shoulder to assure her, even if it doesn’t dispel all her fears. The interrogation room is brightly lit, almost making my eyes water. Today’s interview is my first since I started this organization. In many ways, this is the maiden voyage for everypony involved. Despite my outward appearance of strength and resolution, I’m still terrified by the prospect of what I am about to learn.

I gave the two guards a nod, who returned my gesture with a salute. They shut the door, the audible clicks telling me it was now secure. That was my cue to take a seat across from the subject. He was found on site, locked in a room in a comatose state. It was instantly ascertained that he had been the one to send out the distress call.

The unicorn is by all means average. Plain dark brown coat, plain black mane, plain golden eyes and plain average build. The only thing that’s not average about him is the presence he seems to emanate. I have come face to face with many threats: Tirek, Chrysalis, Sombra, Discord, Nightmare Moon, and many others. Yet, no matter how many evil overlords I have laid low or crises I have resolved, I can never quite overcome that initial sense of dread whenever I face a new threat.

“Good afternoon, doctor Briar. How are you feeling today?”

The doctor looks into my eyes with a faint smile. “As well as I could be.” His reply is in a low, yet gravely tone.

“I hope the security measures aren’t making you feel uncomfortable.” My eyes drift ever so slightly to the side of my head. Just outside of the room, there were over a dozen armed guards ready to break in should anything happen to me.

“Truth be told, I would really feel more comfortable if you didn’t have so many guards posted. I’m no threat while in here...” Briar gives me his best smile. Somehow, it feels crooked.

I try to give the unicorn a smile of my own, but despite my lips curling upwards, I fail. “I’m sorry, but as the administrator of this facility, that’s a risk I cannot take. After all, our organization doesn’t just deal with your run-of-the-mill anomalies, and as it just so happens, your work falls squarely in that category.”

Briar grimaced. “Believe me, Princess, I wish I hadn’t been a part of that Celestia-forsaken project.”

I place both hooves on top of the metal table, relaxing my stance enough to show Briar I meant him no harm. “Why don’t you tell me more about the project?” I started, keeping my voice as even as possible. “We uncovered so little from the surviving documentation at the site. As the sole surviving participant, you and you alone hold the last shreds of truth.”

I’ve attempted to make sense of the nature of malice and the dark arts for years now, but every door I open leads to dozens more. It was that reason above all others that convinced me to form the ERDSCP. Equestria needs an organization dedicated to searching for the things nopony can hope to understand, containing such dangers, and protecting the world—my world—from evil.

Briar uneasily shifts on his seat, his demeanor changing from one of partial sociability, to a very formal, very cold tone. “I honestly don’t think you’ll find what I have to say useful. Still, you do deserve to know more about the affront that was the project.” His eyes harden. “Know that everything I tell you today is true in every way, this I swear. Worse, I’m thoroughly convinced it will happen again if we let it.” Briar closed his eyes and sat up straighter than before. “Two years ago, a scientist began preparations for an extremely secretive project. He went by the name of Grogar Tambelon.”

My eyes widen at the name. “Doctor Tambelon? The world-renowned metaphysical researcher for the Ministry of Arcane Sciences that vanished twenty years ago? He was your employer?”

“Yes,” Briar said as his gaze drifted down to the table.

I’m not going to lie—the prospect of learning the truth behind the failed project terrifies me. Many at the top brass of the Guard, including my brother, have told me that I should leave interrogations to somepony more qualified. While part of me had to agree with them, I could sense that there was more to this than anypony else could see. As princess of Friendship and protector of the land, it was my duty to find out everything I could. So as to prevent anything like it happening again.

* * * * * * * * *

I rip open another letter and sigh. Yet another foreclosure message. I scowl, growl, and toss it aside like the all the other letters before getting up and walking over to my fridge. I hesitate for a second before opening the door. Only a single piece of pizza and a half-empty bottle of orange juice greeted me. With a groan, I take both.

There is a knock on my door. Turning my attention away from the paltry meal, I snap around to face it and scowl. Of course. Of all the days for the freaking landlord to come pester me, it has to be today… I groan and run my usual excuse over through my mind over and over. I wrap my magic around the door’s handle and shout as soon as I swing the door open. “I still need a few more weeks, dammit!”

A nonchalant and cool voice replies to my quip. “Of course, my good friend.” I blink, realizing I hadn’t shouted at the landlord, but instead to a light-brown unicorn in a doctor’s coat. “Apologies for intruding, but would you happen to be Mr. Briar?” the stallion asks, straightening his round metal-framed glasses and tie in the process.

“...Yes,” I reply, eyes narrowing with every word. “Who wants to know?”

The unicorn smiles, running a hoof over his graying, blond mane. “The name’s Dr. Grogar Tambelon. I’m here to propose a job offer.” He extends his hoof, which I stare at for a few seconds before shaking. “May I come in?” he coolly requests.

I gaze into the elder stallion’s eyes. I had never heard of this doctor, so either he was telling the truth, or he was a pretty bold liar. Regardless, I couldn’t just have him stand in the hallway—especially if the landlord was around.

I stepped aside and let him walk into my apartment. I used my magic to fix a few eyesores such as small stack of empty dishes I had left on top of my coffee table. The doctor took a seat on the couch.

“Dr. Briar, I am about to begin an experiment that will hopefully let ponykind answer a few lingering questions about the nature of dark magic,” he started, his lips rising into a grin.

“Dark… magic?”

“Mr. Briar, are you alright?” I asks after the doctor had said nothing for nearly five minutes.

He snapped from his seeming daze and looks up from the table. “Yes… just reminiscing...”

I nod. “Now, what can you tell me about the project as a whole?

“Harbinger…” Briar whispers.

“Yes, that’s the name in all the recovered documents. But what else can you tell me about it?”

Though his eyes never left mine, I could see a small shiver run up his spine. “The word itself means to warn or forebode. It’s intimidating to even utter, maybe because of the way it rolls from our tongues, or maybe it’s simply due to its association with the project. In hindsight, my gut feeling was right. I don’t know why Dr. Grogar gave the experiment that title, but in retrospect, it fit perfectly.”

I felt a cold sensation running down my spine at his words. I couldn’t help but feel parallels to myself in the words he had just said. Once upon a time, I too would have jumped on the prospect of such knowledge. Those days were long over, but it was scary to think what could have been had it been me who was asked to study such arts.

I put on my best straight face despite my innermost turmoil. “Right… let’s… uh.... try something else then!” I paused to better think over my words. “Let’s see… how exactly did you end up as a part of the research team?”

Briar once again shifts his gaze back down to the table.

* * * * * * * * *

“Let me get this straight,” I said, putting down my cup of coffee. “You want me to be a part of a potentially unethical experiment in which you are going to purposefully introduce dark magic on unsuspecting test subjects?”

Dr. Grogar took a sip of his coffee before nodding.

I again lift the manila folder the doctor had given me and read over the plans. The details strike me not only as suspicious, but outright immoral—more so since it calls for total secrecy. Still, it is the promised pay that gets my attention most of all.

I turn to face the elder unicorn. “Why me?”

The doctor smiles. “My plans require employees that are not only efficient at their job, but also know how to keep their mouths shut. If word was to get out as to what I have planned, it would be reason enough for the Royal Guards to come knocking at my door.”

I narrow my eyes. “You still haven’t answered my question.”

Grogar chuckles. “Of course I haven’t.” He reaches into his suitcase and brings out another manila folder. “I happen to know you are a very gifted physician. It’s very difficult to find a doctor that’s not only gifted in alchemy, but is also a full-fledged surgeon. I think it’s even more difficult to find all of the above, on top of having intricate knowledge of magic.”

I raise an eyebrow. “I’m a unicorn. Of course I would learn magic on top of medical science. It is our birthright after all.”

“Is four years of magic theory considered ‘mandatory’ for unicorn physicians nowadays?”

I grumble. “I had to cover my bases. That’s the reason I also minored in alchemy.” I scowle. “You know, there are probably dozens of ponies more qualified than me.”

“True, but none of those ponies are in your current predicament.” Grogar motions to the folder he had put on the table. I reach out for it and read its contents. Instantly, my eyes go wide. I slam the folder down, grimacing. “How did you—”

“’Get this’?” he says, finishing my words. “It wasn’t hard, I’m sorry to say. It’s actually hard to believe that your previous employers would put such a dent in your career just because you tried to use dark magic to keep one of your patients alive.” Grogar took another sip of his coffee. “A shame you butchered the spell and ended up making a mess of the poor colt.”

I wrap the folder in my telekinetic grip and glare daggers at it. The aura surrounding it then turns black. Second later, it burst into black flames, consuming it within seconds.

“I see you know that particular spell,” Grogar says giddily. “Color me impressed! Even among those who study the occult arts, ‘blackfire’ is considered a difficult spell to cast right. It’s even said that in the olden days, the measure of a warlock’s power lay on whether or not they knew how to cast it properly.”

I raise an eyebrow. “I doubt blackfire’s that hard to cast. It was the first spell I learned, even before telekinesis.” I looked at the pile of ash that had formed on my table. “I mean, a spell that, once cast, cannot be put out by any force imaginable and whose flames can burn even in a vacuum is quite useful, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Oh, is that everything you think the blackfire spell can do?” Grogar asks.

I shrug. “There’s also the fact that it cannot burn anything other than the intended target, but that is more of a bonus than anything else if you ask me.” I grimace. “We’re moving away from what’s important here!” I shoot a glare at the doctor, who gazed back with a confident grin. “Was that folder an attempt to blackmail me?”

Grogar shakes his head, grin never wavering. “Mr. Briar, your current situation is, shall we say, quite dire. As such, there is no need to blackmail you.”

I sigh. Tell me about it…

“Currently, you’re lucky if a hospital takes you as a janitor, let alone ever again allows you to work as a physician,” Grogar continues, his grin fading as he continues. “Because of the above issues, you’re deep in debt. A debt that has cost you your home, most of your earthly possessions, and even your marefriend. You’re scraping the bottom of the barrel.” He downs the last of his coffee and sets the cup down. I snarl. There was no denying the doctor was well informed.

“That’s where I come in. I’m not only willing to pay you handsomely for your services, but if we succeed, the fame alone will override any potential stigma your name carries at the moment. With my further support, you might even be eligible for a tenure job with the Ministry of Arcane Sciences as the first legitimate occult expert in Equestrian history. Just imagine, you as the first of a new breed of researcher, doing away with millennia of negative stigma upon an art whose potential is practically unlimited and untouched.” He leans closer to me. “After all, dark magic is only called such because ponies don’t understand it. And what they don’t understand, they fear.”

The doctor’s words give me pause. If I had a job with the Ministry, I could forget all about my economic woes for the rest of my days. Even their lowest level of funding would be twice what I was paid as a physician. The prospect of showing the world just what dark magic could do was a bonus on top of that.

I look down at the folder containing the project details, my brow furrowing. As immoral as the idea was, it was for the progression of the magical and scientific fields. It was my duty as a doctor to see it through. So what if a few ponies got hurt in the process? Progress has to be paid somehow. After all, nothing can be gained without first giving something in return. That’s the law of the universe.

I stare darkly into Grogar’s eyes. I was suddenly filled with determination. “I’m in.”

Briar finally looks up and once more gazes directly at me. Something about his eyes made me feel completely uneasy. I steeled myself to continue with the interrogation despite my growing unease. “How many other employees did Dr. Grogar hire?”

“Forty. Some were close colleagues of his, some were average scientists, and at least twenty five were private security.”

“What about location? What can you tell me about the location project Harbinger took place in?

Briar continues to gaze into my eyes despite his unnerving silence. I can almost hear the drop of a pin.

* * * * * * * * *

It has been a week since I had accepted Grogar’s job opportunity. In that time, he had officially introduced me to the finer points of his plan. In fact, he had started treating me as well as some of his closest colleagues, making me a part of the planning meetings, cocktail parties with officials from Stalliongrad, and even increasing my payment despite the project not even officially beginning. For the first time in my life, I have more money than I ever did as a surgeon. The wealth… it is intoxicating. Still, There’s a job ahead, and the money now is but a prelude of things to come.

After the final details got dealt with, Grogar and I headed for the location of the future installations. There, we found no laboratory, or even a warehouse. just empty snowy fields, ancient woods that had seen countless winters, and a somewhat worn-out shack with a couple of decrepit cabins nearby.

“Uh, Doctor... you sure we are in the right spot?”

Grogar nods with a wide grin on his lips. “See that shack?” He points with his hoof. “That’s the entrance to the bunker.”

“Bunker?”

“Yes,” Grogar replies. “The installation is a leftover from when the Stalliongrad military and a group of griffons invaders fought over territory some fifty years ago. This was before Stalliongrad officially became a part of Equestria and disbanded its armed forces.”

I stop in my tracks, the crunch of the snow underneath my hooves serving as the only non-vocal sound for what must be miles. “So, the whole complex’s underground?”

“Correct. Bunker and laboratory, complete with old monitoring equipment and all the necessary space for medical trials.”

I turn to face Grogar. “How did you convince the city officials to sell you the land?”

Grogar chuckles. “It wasn’t hard, truth be told. The land’s been up for grabs for years now, but few buyers have ever desired it. Considering the sordid past it has among the populace, it’s no surprise. Once we’re done updating the installations, we can shape it into the ideal testing grounds for our needs. We may even be able to expand further.”

I tilt my head to the side. I’m not entirely sure why though. “What exactly do you mean by ‘sordid past’?”

Grogar rolls his eyes and snorts from his nostrils. “Superstitious nonsense, Briar” He fixed his fur coat and laughs. “The locals believe the bunker is ‘haunted’ since it was originally built as a prison. During the course of the conflict, the prison became a research lab of… well.” He pauses and turns to face me. “Ever heard of ‘unit 851’?”

My eyes widen. “Wasn’t that that one group of scientist that used war prisoners and Stalliongrad convicts as experimental fodder?”

Grogar nods. He still has that grin on his lips. “That’s right! This bunker was their base of operation. After the conflict ended, the bunker was abandoned. Naturally, popular belief is that the place is still haunted by the the restless spirits of the inmates.” The doctor’s grin grows even wider. “Perfect for our needs, wouldn’t you agree?”

I straighten the collar of my trench coat and looked at the rather unassuming-looking shack. I could probably tear it down with a few bucks, and I was a unicorn. “Just how big is the complex?” I ask, completely bypassing Grogar’s earlier inquiry.

“It isn’t big enough for our ends right now. Once the contractors get here though, we’ll have this complex expanded as necessary.”

“What about those?” I ask, looking at the decrepit cabins. “Were those also part of the complex?”

“Yes. Those are going to be the company housing!” Grogar exclaims. He must have noticed my sudden grimace, because he started laughing. “Don’t worry, they will also be fixed up. For the time being, we are staying at a local condo complex until the construction is complete. It should not take more than a couple of months. Once that’s done, the project will begin.”

“So, what are we doing until the construction is done?”

“For the time being, waiting for the rest of the staff to arrive. Other than that, though, you’re free to use your pay as you see fit. Just don’t get into any kind of trouble.” Grogar gives me a nudge and a wink.

“And what did Doctor Grogar mean by that?” I ask as soon as Briar finishes talking. I take the opportunity to wipe some of the sweat that had formed on my brow.

Briar took pause at my words, his expression going from blank, to one of sly acknowledgement. “I think you already know the answer to that, princess.” He leans back on his chair. “Good thing I was never one to indulge too much. Stalliongrad was... quite the city…”

I can feel a warm sensation in my face as the implications hit me. I keep my face as straight as possible as I try to ignore the doctor’s words. After another deep breath, I resume the interrogation. “From the investigative team’s reports, we know that the complex was massive, yet the cave-ins prevented our teams from going further. Just what else can you tell me about it?”

Briar spoke without sitting back up in a cold and distant tone. “There was the entrance section, the control hub, the entry doorway, and the hallway. Connected to the control hub were three doors. One lead to a smaller room that served as the infirmary, another door lead to a break room that was hardly ever used, and the last door lead into the hallways. Unlike the rest of the complex, the hallways had been rebuilt, giving them an almost labyrinthine configuration. They made up a vast majority of the complex. Past the halls were the testing chambers.”

I nod in agreement to Briar’s words. “Reports say that when the installation was secured, the hallways had already been destroyed,” I say, keeping my voice even despite my rising concerns over Briar’s own tone. “Can you tell me more about the halls?”

Briar was quiet for nearly half a minute. “It was to keep—” He stops mid-sentence, closes his eyes, and slams his hoof on the table, mouth twisting into a snarl and teeth clenching so hard I could almost hear them scraping against each other. I can’t help but recoil. I’m thankful his eyes are closed. He can’t see what I know is a terrified expression on my face “—N-nothing. It’s nothing,” he finally spits out through clenched teeth, his eyes opening and once again falling back on mine.

I take a gulp and try to relax. “O-okay... we’ll get back to that… later.” I take a breath of air to steady my nerves. Much later… “L-let’s back up and talk about your arrival at the complex.” I try to keep things organized despite my desire to know just what that outburst had been. The deeper I went into this mess, the more I felt I would not like it when I hit bottom.

Briar takes a deep breath of air through his nostrils, but instead of speaking, he places both hooves in front of his mouth. “Actually, that’s a rather long story, and I am feeling particularly parched. Can we take a quick break?”

The doctor’s inquiry shouldn’t have caught me off-guard. Yet, against my own expectations, it does. I’m not entirely sure why though. Maybe it’s the suddenness, or perhaps the tone. I can’t quite place it anywhere in the spectrum of speaking tones that I was familiar with, yet it certainly came off as… unnatural.

Without a word, I give a nod and get up from the table. I move to the door and nod. A couple of clicks later, the metal hatch swings open, revealing a burly earth-pony female guard. Instead of the normal gold-plated barding, her’s was navy blue and black.

“What are your orders?” the guard asks me, eyes drifting away from my face and onto Briar, who is still seating on the table with his hooves covering his mouth.

“We’re taking a few minutes. Could you please bring some water for us?”

“Right away!” says the guard with a salute. She shot one final glare at Briar before heading out at full speed.

I decide to wait by the doorway. Despite that inner voice that tells you not to do stupid things yelling loud and rather clear, I choose to face completely away from the doctor. It is at that instant that I feel something in the pit of my gut that’s completely indescribable. The best way I can put it is a sensation of peril I hadn’t felt since standing face to face with Tirek.

I softly gulp, a few beads of sweat forming in the back of my neck, sending chills down my back and into my flank.

What have I gotten myself into?

Part Two

Briar finishes the last drop of his water, lets out a satisfied sigh, and starts twisting his neck side to side until it cracks. “That hit the spot.” He turns back to face me and gives me a toothy smile. “Thank you so much for the patience, Princess.”

I said nothing to that, only managing what would probably come off as a goofy grin. I hated it. Briar’s words, though sincere in tone, came off in the completely opposite way that he might have intended. Perhaps it’s just my imagination playing tricks on me, but I can’t shake the ice in the pit of my gut.

“Now, where was I?” The suddenness of the voice makes me flinch. Thankfully, I’ve gotten pretty good at keeping such displays subtle. A princess can’t show any kind of fear in times of upheaval. It’s not good for morale. I came to learn that pretty quickly.

The doctor’s expression darkens. “Right. I was about to tell you about the complex itself.” He slumps in his chair, hooves knocking together. “It is not something that I can describe without it coming off as… well—” he murmurs something I cannot understand, cutting his own words off. “—When I first arrived and laid eyes on the finalized complex, it's hallway design confused me.” Briar’s eyes sharpen.

* * * * * ** * *

I step into the hallway, and the first thing I feel is overwhelming entrapment. The walls close around me, tightening their grip until I’m nothing but a red smear.

I take a step back into the central hub, body hovering at the entryway between the two areas. I grit my teeth and shake my head, more out of shame than fear. Dammit, it’s just a hallway. Why the hay are you so scared of it?

I take another uneasy step forward. I feel myself shiver. The hallways can’t be larger than your average single-story house, yet they feel far smaller. Walking further into the murk, the hall increases in size, opening into a new hub chamber with various rooms, all of which no longer had metal doors attached to them, but hydraulic hatches that could be opened or closed remotely. The rooms are currently being used for storage, but I know that won’t be the case for long. I’m not entirely sure why Grogar decided not to turn the rooms into the living quarters, but a part of me is thankful for that.

Going further, I find what I have come to call ‘the labyrinth.’ I have to follow a map issued to the staff just to navigate it. It doesn’t help that parts are murky due to insufficient lighting. Crossing the labyrinth is the only way to reach the test chambers—dozens of rooms with all the accommodations any pony could want. The entrances are thick blast door-like hatches wired directly to the central observation hub. The rest of the chambers went unused for now, though I didn’t doubt Grogar would fill them, given enough time.

I don’t linger there for long. Something about the place seems to be pushing me away...

I put a hoof to my temple. That wasn’t an answer at all, but more of a story that gave no insight. Briar’s narration wasn’t doing anything to really get my anywhere. Worse, I can already feel the anger clouding my judgement. “Okay, why don’t we talk about something else?” I take a deep breath of air and steady my nerves. “Okay, something has been bugging me since reading the leftover reports found at the site. Just what was the purpose of Dr. Grogar’s project?”

Briar’s expression changed. I can swear he also loses some of the color in his coat. “I. Guess. It was only. A matter of time. Until you asked that question.” Briar inhaled. “The ‘official’ purpose was to test and observe the effects of extended isolation on the equine mind—that was on the reports being sent out to the world. The true purpose of the project, however—”

“Was to learn and harness dark magic.” I snatch the words right out of Briar’s mouth. He looks through me, eyes narrowing and lips curling into a snarl. I take notice and quickly change the question. “D-did the doctor ever hint at any other goal?”

Briar’s eyes narrow further as he speaks his next set of words. “All Grogar—and I guess myself by extension—wanted was to prove dark magic could be harnessed. He never hinted at any other goal.” He shifts his gaze to the table. “He had this, obsession with it. Moreso than even I did when I first started studying the occult. He wanted physical proof that such power could be controlled without losing one’s mind or becoming corrupted in the process, and he wanted to be the first to achieve it.”

“Earlier you mentioned you had used black magic before.” I pause, trying to get a read on the doctor’s face. “Black magic is, well, evil!” I have a brief flash of Sombra’s malicious cheshire grin as I said the word. “Why would you and Dr. Grogar try and prove something everypony already knows?”

Briar’s upper lip curls upward as a soft smile overtakes his face. “Princess, you’ve got it completely wrong. Black magic isn’t evil in nature. Magic has no alignment; it is power and power alone. To consider it as ‘evil’ because somepony doesn't understand it is ignorance at its finest.” He loses his smile as soon as the last sound leaves his mouth, gaze growing steely as he sets his full attention on me. “All magic can and must be considered ‘evil’ when in the wrong hooves, Princess. A simple telekinetic spell can levitate a foal high enough that the impact from the fall would kill them; a simple teleportation spell can make somepony disappear and reappear inside a concrete wall; a simple transfiguration spell can transform a pony’s lungs into an onion and a turnip.” Briar’s eyes harden. “Magic in and of itself isn't the thing that’s evil. Ponies are what make it evil.”

I shift my weight on the seat at his words. Part of me says to take Briar’s reply and roll with it. Yet, I can’t help but retort. Even when I do, my eye twitches. “And,” I pause, “why would you say that ponies are the ones that make magic evil?” I almost shout, lips pursing as a mixture of anger and defiance rises.

A grin once again forms on Briar’s lips. This time, it was crooked. “That’s a question without an easy answer.” His eyes never leave mine. “We can take you as an example.”

I’m taken back by the doctor’s words. “M-me?!”

Briar nods. “You’re in a position of both power and influence over this nation. Your actions thus echo far louder than those of the average pony. Therefore, you are the best example I can think of right now.”

I’m not sure if I should feel flattered or disturbed by Briar’s words. I’m more inclined to feel the latter, but I keep as best a straight face that I can manage as he continues.

“Allow me to pose a question to you.” Briar crosses his hooves, his gaze growing darker with every word. “What are your intentions with me?”

I don’t even stop to think about the answer. “I want to know the truth about what happened in that bunker. You are the sole survivor, therefore, you are an integral part of my plans far as this case goes.”

Briar nods. “How desperate are you to get answers from me?”

This time, I do stop to ponder the question. It should have been simple to answer, yet the a real answer—one I could be content with—was difficult to formulate into proper words. I berated myself for not having something to say now of all times. Perfect time to lock up, Twilight! I grit my teeth, my eyes drifting away from Briar as sweat starts to pool in my brow.

Before I can even finish formulating my thoughts, Briar continues. “What are you willing to sacrifice to get those answers? And once you've reached your goals, then what will you do with what you’ve learned?”

Briar’s words finally give me full pause. They are all things I hadn’t fully considered when I first set hoof into this interrogation room. Sure, I had an idea of what my goals were, but I hadn’t really stopped to really—really—ponder them up until this very instant. That, of course, was going against many of my personal values of planning and preparation. This is like the summit meetings all over again! At least, I have the excuse that this really is new territory. Regardless, Briar’s questions stung. Celestia would be able to answer all of this without even thinking about it. Luna would find some retort that made her come out to be capable, while also eloquate. Hay, even Discord would probably have some witty quip ready to turn Briar’s questions back at him! I. I had nothing. Despite holding up my stoic expression, I can’t help but let out a subtle sigh as the beads of sweat in my brow start to trickle down my face.

“Even if your intentions can save the entire world, there will always be those who will be against you.” Briar’s words snap me back to reality. “Whether it’s because your means to an end are unnecessary, because they are jealous of what you are and can do, or because their way of thinking goes against your way of thinking. In the end, morality is and will always be dictated by the majority. That’s the ‘true’ nature of what good and evil is.” Briar’s grin once again disappears as his gaze drifts away. “That said, Grogar’s methods were…” He pauses, visibly shaking. “He believed the answer to black magic’s true essence waited beyond our plane of existence. He wanted to connect this world and the one that exists hidden.”

My eyes widen at Briar’s words. “Wha... How…?”

“I. I. I—I don—don’t know. All. I, I, I, I—know, is that he. Needed the hosts. Needed the hosts, to be—to be strong, enough to survive. Possession, but weak. Enough to be—be possessed. In the first place.”

I placed both hooves back on the table and cleared my throat, eyes never quite meeting Briar’s. I had to really fight the urge to curse Grogar’s name. “That doesn’t make much sense,” I said, hoping it would help clear my thoughts. “What kind of pony could meet that kind of criteria?”

Briar completely looks away from me. I can see his lips quivering, and a part of me already knows why. The hairs in the back of my neck stand on end as I clench grind my teeth together. Whatever doubt I once had is all but gone now. I am threading into a place that can only lead to suffering. Do I really need another taste of the same horror that Sombra had harnessed to rule an entire empire?

My rising animosity couldn’t just be directed just at Dr. Grogar. Part of it fell firmly on Briar and his philosophy. But at the same time, my perception on him was changing. Where I once saw nothing but a depraved scientist meddling with malicious elements, I was starting to see a clearer picture of just how he saw the world, and I didn’t like it.

Why though?

Because a part of me knows—understands—that Briar has a point. No matter how much I try to tell myself otherwise, ponies are capable of evil without ever being exposed to magic. After all, the founding of Equestria herself had come about as a direct result of hate running rampant.

So if I understand and even agree with Briar, why can’t I accept his worldview? Why do I continue to be so adamant, so willing to write him off? Could I really that closed minded and stubborn?

No. It’s something else. Something about the doctor that just doesn’t click with me.

“Just, how did you receive the two wounds on your flank?” My eyes drift towards the doctor’s flank as I ask the question.

Briar’s eyes widen, his lips quivering as they try to rise into a smile, but force themselves down. Even his teeth begin clattering.

Something’s not right here. “Doctor?”

“Grogar. Did something. Else, to the. Rooms during. Construction.” Briar stops moving and relaxes his face. Another smile forms on his lips.

“What!?” I place both hooves on the table and lean over. My wings can’t help but flare at the prospect of new intel. I’m sure that to the guards on the other side of the one-way glass, it looks as if I’m about to pounce on Briar.

“H—he, had dozens. Of odd symbols, carved into. Walls.” Briar leans back on his chair, no doubt in reaction to my action. “He then,” he takes a deep breath to steady his voice. “He then had this, thick coat of paint placed over them, rendering them virtually invisible to the, well, naked eye.”

I lightly slam my hoof on the table. “We couldn’t access those rooms. Most of the installation had caved in when we arrived. Can you describe what the symbols looked like?”

Briar’s face goes pale. “I-I. I’ll need a piece of paper.”

I nod and levitate a piece of paper towards Briar. Soon as he has it in front of him, he begins to draw strange symbols using his own magic. They are sigils I have never seen before. More interesting is the fact that as soon as he begins his work, he looks absolutely absorbed into his own world, all but forgetting that he was in an interrogation room several stories below the city of Canterlot. As I gaze into the glyphs, I feel a shiver run up my spine and my very blood turn cold. I can’t even bring myself to look at it for too long without it causing my stomach to churn and head to throb in pain:

I... have no way to decipher the odd lettering. Not even with all my knowledge of Equestrian history have I ever seen such a language. If it even is a ‘language’ and not something altogether different.

After Briar finishes writing, he returns to normal. He looks down at his own magical scribbling and recoils, eyes going wide. A few patches of his coat stand on end near his neck, and he seems ready to drop on the floor.

“If. If I-I had k-known what Grogar h-had planned next, I, I, I would have q-quit then and... He decided not to tell me the finer details—to any of us—until we were all gathered at his ‘fortress.’ By that point, even if any of us wanted to leave... I doubt we would have been allowed to. The security team he hired was absolutely loyal to him and the payout. I-I get the feeling had it been necessary, he would have ordered his security team to terminate anypony bent on leaving the installations.”

“We’ve talked a great deal about the project and some of its details,” I say, diverting my thoughts away from the anxiety now bombarding almost all of my senses. “You were the physician—that means you would have known about the test subjects in detail. When our expedition team arrived on the site, virtually no records of the test subjects could be found. You are the only pony in the world that knows anything about them.”

“That is, true. Yes. I do know a great deal about the subjects, though that knowledge only extends to a single name. Only Grogar had knowledge of the other two names. He avoided telling any of us in order to create an even larger divide between the researchers and the test subjects. He feared—justly—that should we know their names, we would do everything in our power to prevent them from suffering their ‘required’ destiny’.”

I take a long gulp. “A-and what destiny was that?”

Briar’s eyes seem to glass over at my question.

* * * * * * * * *

“Dr. Grogar, I need to speak to you,” I say just as I catch up to the doctor a little after lunch hours.

“Sure, what do you want to talk about?”

“It’s about the subjects. I’ve looked the documentation over, and I can’t help but feel something’s not right about one of them.”

Grogar mumbles something under his breath before turning his full attention to me. “I had a feeling you would be the one to voice concern. Let’s take this to my office.”

Grogar and I walk down the main installation hub towards the control room. The few researchers present are doing standard calibrations on equipment and pay us no mind. We soon reach a small room separated from the rest of the control area. Unlike most of the installations, the walls are thick and sound-proof. I have no doubt that when the office had been originally built, it had served as the offices of a big-wig, likely the complex’s overseer.

Grogar led the way, and once we were inside, he shut the metal hatch, sealing us from the rest of the world. He takes a seat in front of his desk and levitates three manila folders, each one bearing the picture of a pony. Or rather, two grown ponies and a filly.

“Let me take a wild guess here,” Grogar started. “You’re concerned over the age of the filly, aren’t you?” He slid the filly’s folder closer to me.

“While her age does concern me, it’s more as to how she became embroiled in this project.” I look directly into Grogar’s eyes. “I know the project calls for ponies without cutie marks, but I think this is taking it too far.”

Grogar chuckles. “That may be, but you and I both know well that progress can only be achieved by those willing to sacrifice in the name of the greater good.”

I gaze at the filly’s picture. She looks so happy and carefree on it. “I’m having a hard time justifying the use of such a young test subject though. I mean, she can’t be older than ten.”

“She’s thirteen, actually. Well within the age of consent. At least according to Stalliongrad law.”

“Which has nothing to do with Equestrian law,” I retort.

“We are in their soil. Their rules,” Grogar’s smile never wavers.

“How did we even get such a young filly to sign up for this test anyway? Did her parents dump her on us in the hopes of making some money?”

“Sadly, she’s got no parents.” Grogar sighs, yet he still manages to keep a pleased expression. “As you probably know, Stalliongrad, while being a part of Equestria, is fiercely independent down to the way they run their infrastructure. Unlike the rest of the nation—which has almost no child abandonment or abuse to speak of—Stalliongrad is stuck in a very different time. Fillies and Colts here are lucky if they have parents that care for them. Those that don’t might as well be dead. The orphanages care little for them, and the whole child care system is little more than an excuse to traffic them for many nefarious purposes, truth be told.”

I can feel the hairs in the back of my neck start to stand on end. “Doctor, did you…?”

Grogar laughs. “Heavens no!”

I sigh in relief.

“I found her roaming the city streets, half starving to death. I told her what I had planned, and she willingly joined. To her, it was a far better prospect than dying on a gutter.” Grogar’s grin grew. “I’m surprised you only care for the filly. What about the other two subjects?”

I look down at the two other folders sitting in front of me. “Not much to say about them, honestly. One’s an average unicorn just barely hitting his twenties whose only unique trait is that his cutie mark has been forcefully removed. The other is an older Pegasus mare who happens to be a blank flank. It’s not really common to see that, but it isn’t exactly unique either. Some ponies just never find that one thing they are good at.”

“So it’s just the filly that’s getting under your skin?”

I nod in reply. Something about admitting it verbally doesn’t sit right with me.

Grogar puts a hoof on his chin. “Somehow, I find your concern a bit… well, concerning.” He snickers. “Here I was thinking you would be brewing up a storm over the subjects and their possible fates, but instead, you’re only concerned about a filly that may be too young.” He narrows his eyes. “You haven’t even raised a hoof about the potential fallout of the project. I find it odd as to why.”

I raise an eyebrow. “I’m not even entirely sure what you plan on doing here. You’ve been pretty quiet about it. But even if you did tell me, it’s not like I can stop it. The other two are adults who volunteered of their own volition. They signed the paperwork.”

Of course, that was a partial lie. While it is true that I don’t really know what Grogar has planned, my gut tells me things won’t exactly end well for them. I have to know more.

“Excellent then!” Grogar exclaims, standing up and walking over to me. “Don’t worry about the finer details. Those will be revealed in time. Right now, your priority is making sure the subjects are ready for testing. They will be arriving within the week, so have your clinic stocked and ready to go. Let me know if you need anything, I’ll make sure to give you all the necessary supplies, as well as few extra things you can only get up here in Stalliongrad.”

I give the doctor a nod and head out the door. Before I can open it, he speaks out one last time.

“One final thing. Try not to get too attached to your patients. They are here to serve as subjects first and foremost.” His tone drops into a cold, distant, and near monotone. “Remember, there cannot be progress without sacrifice. Nothing can be gained without first giving something up. Thermodynamics 101, Briar.”

Briar looks away from me and shifts in his chair before forcefully exhaling. “I-I’m sorry, but I think I need another break. The memories, they flood back in, and. I-I need to relax before they become overwhelming. Is it okay if we take... an hour this time?”

I give the doctor a nod. “I’ll return in an hour then. I’ll have some of the guards escort you to a holding cell and bring you some refreshment.”

“N-no,” Briar interjected. “I-I think I’ll. Stay here. If. If that’s okay with you.”

“That’s usually against protocol, but I guess I can bend the rules in this situation.” I give the young stallion a nod. “Alright. I’ll see you in an hour then.” I stand and head for the door. Briar just sits there, gazing down at the table with a glassed-over look. A trio of guards enter the room, and I tell them the current situation. They nod and take positions opposite Briar. As I move towards the exit, I feel another chill run down my spine. I still don’t know what to make of it, but some instinctual part of my begs me that I never set hoof in the room again..

For the time being, I have more questions than answers. It’s not something I enjoy. The more I learn about project Harbinger, the more I feel like I want to forget about it and never speak of it again. Everything is starting to build into a crescendo I do not want to hear play. Regardless of my feelings though, I have to hear it. I have to know the truth if I am to prevent something like this from happening again.

I groan and clench my teeth. Maybe you really can’t gain anything without first giving something up.

Part Three

“It’s been an hour. A-are you ready to—”

“Continue?” Briar utters, snatching the words right out of my mouth. “I. I. Am. Question is. Are. You. P-Princess?”

I take a deep breath and puff out my chest. “I am.” I barely manage to keep my trembling upper lip from showing. “You left off sometime after telling of the test subject’s ‘destiny’—” Gods, the word feels like filth in my lips! “—Followed by you telling me about—”

“The youngest. Of the. Project.” Briar cuts me off for the third time. Rather than getting insulted by it, I just give the doctor a nod and allow him to resume.

Briar adjusts his scarred rump over the cushion-less steel chair and takes several deep breaths. With each one, his trembling form starts to lessen, until finally halting altogether. “Project Harbinger officially started near the end of harvest season.” His tone blurs the line between what I would call ‘monotone’ and ‘distantly cold,’ yet, I do notice it is no longer fractured or stuttering. Feels like I’ve said part of that already though, I think to myself. Must be my imagination.

“By that time, all preparations were in place. The initial three subjects had been placed in their respective rooms, the cameras, lights and speakers were fully operational, and all staff members had settled into their positions.”

I grimace. This has nothing to do with what he was telling me earlier. Is he deliberately trying to ignore my question?

Before I can even open my mouth to speak, Briar closes his eyes and resumes. Even with eyes shut, he has an unnerving presence.

“At the stroke of midnight, Grogar requested that everypony report to the control room to witness the ‘start of his dream’, as he called it. When the last security officer arrived, he turned to us and, in a cheery tone I had not heard him use since the last cocktail party, said ‘observe.’ He then…”

* * *

…Leans into the microphone, grin on his lips, and begins chanting a strange language that I feel certain no one but he can understand:

We all watch the three active monitors, silently waiting for something to happen. The subjects all continue to sit in their room, dumbstruck by the doctor’s chanting. They stare at the cameras with confused expressions.

The silence is only broken when the youngest of the three subjects walks up to the camera in her quarters and starts to tap her hoof on it. “Uh, Mr. Doctor Grogar, sir. What... is govoreet? Part of testing? Do I remember? Because there is no way. I can probably try, but no way I can remember all. What reach’ is that, anyway?”

Despite the tapping, Grogar continues chanting for few more seconds, voice growing dimmer and dimmer until finally, he stops and stares slack-jawed at the monitors. He purses his lips and takes a step away from the controls, not bothering to answer the filly’s question. In fact, no one steps forward to reply. How can we when we ourselves are just as dumbstruck as she is?

Grogar grumbles under his breath and presses a button on the console, shutting the speakers off. He then takes a seat on the nearest chair and slumps over it. “I… I don’t understand,” he hisses. “I did everything as required! Why isn’t it working!?”

Even if I could somehow come up with an answer, I don’t think I would have spoken it. There are enough issues with everything going on as is for me to even come up with something coherent, let alone satisfactory.

Grogar sighs, runs a hoof over his mane, and turns to face us. “Seems we’ve run into an issue here.” He set his gaze directly on to me. “Briar, go check on the subjects. Make sure they are all healthy and untouched.”

I don’t give the doctor a response, especially about the ‘untouched’ part. I just nod and wander out of the observation room. I quicken my pace as I make my way down the ‘labyrinth’, and enter the testing chambers. Four guards nod in approval of my entry before opening the hatches and granting me access to the general quarters hub.

I set my eyes on the first of the three occupied rooms. The bulwarks look more like something meant to stop an explosion than to isolate test subjects. Just to open one requires that a handle be turned, a lever be pulled, and a code be entered on a nearby keypad. Not to mention permission from the observation hub.

The first hatch swings open; the room where the older pegasus mare is ‘lodging’. She is a gray coated and white maned local pegasus whose name I’m not allowed to know. Despite likely being in her early fifties, she looks slender and well-toned. Had it not been the hoofkerchief tied around her head in the stereotypical ‘babushka’ style, she could have easily passed of as a mare half her age.

As soon as I enter, she jumps off her cot and hovers towards me. “Chto za shum?”

I raise one of my eyebrows at the foreign language. “Come... again?”

The mare frowns and shakes her head. “Tsifry. Vy govorite obshchiy yazyk…” She sighs and clears her throat. “Yuo... no speak-a Stalliongrad-nese, da?” Her accent is thick and dripping with that Stalliongrad rhythm that was unmistakable. Just as her physical appearance, she also sounds half her age. I nod in reply as I wonder if Grogar got the age of the subject wrong in the dossier.

“Can unicorn tell what was noise?” She points to the speaker.

Doesn’t seem like she can talk in the common tongue too well, I think to myself. I quickly come up with the most convenient answer I can. “Oh, that? It was just a test of the speaker system. It didn’t go well.”

She shoots the speaker at the corner of her room a glare. “Nyet! That no test. That bad vystupleniye! Very creepy... Skin crawl at golos.”

I don’t say anything else to the mare after that. I just do as Grogar instructed and check her vitals. As expected, she is in good physical shape, aside from the complications that came with age. Guess that means she really is in her early fifties. She is still cutie mark-less though—that was the whole reason she was in this room in the first place. I grimace. I still don’t know how Grogar convinced you to be here. As much as I want to just ask, I have a sinking feeling I will not find the answer reassuring. No knowledge in this case is probably the most ideal state of affairs.

I give her a nod and make my way out of the room. She keeps glaring at me as I close the door and leave her to her own business. I swear I can hear her say something, but the sound of clicks on the door drown that out.

Next, I open the young unicorn stallion’s room. He is plain brown coated, plain black maned, and just all around plain in physical build. His golden-toned eyes gave off a far more unnerving message than the older mare had though. I am shocked to find him wearing a formal suit and white tied shirt. He does know he can dress casual, right?

As soon as I set hoof on the room, he jumps off his cot had grabs me by the shoulders. “C-Comrade! D-did you h-hear that a-awful, awful voice c-coming from the s-speakers!” His voice—I’m reluctant to even call it that—is high-pitched, not to mention stuttery. Like he took too many blows to the head at one time. Had the room’s walls not been as thick as they were, his shouting would have probably carried all the way down the adjacent rooms and into the observation hub.

Once more, I answer with the first thing that pops into my head. “Yes, we’re aware there is a glitch with our PA system. We’re attempting to fix it right now. There’s nothing to worry about. Uh, comrade.”

The unicorn lets go of my shoulders, but keeps his eyes narrowed. He goes back to his cot and takes a seat, crossing his hooves while keeping his eyes darting back and forth. As he does that, I can’t help but set my gaze on his flank. Just as Grogar told me some weeks ago, his cutie mark was missing on both sides due to physical damage. I’m not sure just what happened, but if the scarring was any indication, it had not been something voluntary. Had it been an accident? Monster attack? Or, perhaps something more?

I spent the next ten minutes going over the young stallion’s vitals. It was taking longer than expected because of his agitated state. He continues to ask questions about the general safety of the procedure. I find it strange he doesn’t seem to care about the project in general. As he put it, he was in only to find a way to fix his cutie mark. Did Grogar lie to you? The project isn’t about healing missing cutie marks. Far from it.

Ten minutes pass by. “Your vitals check alright.” I start to put my instruments back into their bag. “If I can suggest something though. Relax. Stress is never good on the body.” Especially when part of that stress is warranted.

The unicorn sits back in his cot. “I-I-I don’t know, comrade. Something d-d-does not feel r-r-right.” He puts a hoof on his forehead. “B-but maybe you a-a-are right. Must relax b-b-before heart f-f-fails.”

I smile and give the young stallion a reassuring pat on the shoulder. One final nod, and I shut his bulwark and head to the next room.

I stop and sigh. I know that inside that room is a filly who’s probably scared and confused. Images of the last time I had dealt with somepony young flashes before me, making me go weak in the knees. I grimace and shake my head. Though he lived, I doubt he would ever be the same again. What a mess I made.

As my hoof hovers over the final lever to open the hatch, various scenarios start to play in my head, including one where the filly breaks into tears the instant I step in and I have to play ‘daddy’ to calm her down. My more rational side tells me that probably won’t be the case, considering she had approached the camera earlier to ask about the chanting. Still, I can’t shake the feeling that I am the least qualified pony to be dealing with children.

I place my hoof on the lever and pull it. As soon as the hatch swings open, just about everything in my mind is completely subverted as a beige blur bounds right up to me, almost as if ready to pounce. She sets her cyan eyes on me.

“Doctor, doctor! Can you tell me what that scary goloss was? Was that Mr. Grogar? Was it a glitchy-glitch? Was it a poogly demon that you plan to feed us all to?”

I can’t help but lose my composure at the filly’s last question. “…What?”

The filly puts a hoof over her mouth and giggles. “Oh, appypolly loggy! Just being silly.” She then lets out a drawn-out sigh. “It’s sooo good to be able to be optimistic without getting into a drat! I didn’t even know that getting kicked for telling jokes was a pastime of Stalliongrad lewdies.”

“What?”

Another giggle, and the filly takes a step away from me. “Oh, nothing! Just using bit of Nadsat. And failing.” She stands there, staring at me. Somehow, her gaze seemed to look right through me. “So… what’cha doing?”

I straighten myself. “I’m going to run a routine medical check-up. Dr. Grogar’s request.”

The filly beams. “Horrorshow, then.” She covers her mouth. “Sorry, really need to stop with that.” She turns her head away from me. “Not on the streets anymore,” she hisses to herself.

“Come again?”

“Nothing!” The filly hops back into her cot and sits on her haunches. “Hope there’s nothing wrong with me. I don’t feel sick, but that doesn't mean I’m not sick.” She pauses, her expression losing some of its luster. “After all, Pa-pa was pretty healthy when he went to sleep.”

I hesitate on my movements at the words. “Sleep...?” I ask despite my better judgement.

The filly nods. “Yeah. He said he was going to lie down for a while. But then…” the filly’s gaze travels to the floor. “He never woke up. I shook him time and time again, but he just kept on snoozing, even if he wasn’t snoring anymore. After a few days, I knew he wasn’t going to wake up. He did leave enough food for me to get by for a bit, but after two weeks, his body started to get bloated. Oh, and the smell certainly wasn’t getting any better.” The filly snaps her eyes back at me, giving me a weak grin. “ ‘He must have really needed a bath!’ ” She laughs at her joke, but the chuckles don’t last long. Her expression starts to grow somber. “That’s what I told myself for almost a month. It’s been two years since then. I was so naive back then.”

“Don’t… you have relatives?” I ask, once again completely neglecting to remind myself that I’m not supposed to be attached to any of the test subjects.

“Father never told me what happened to them.” Her tone is far too optimistic for my comfort. “He just said they were all resting in the ‘peaceful place.’ Said that with luck, I would go there too, and soon.” She starts to cackle. I recoil at that. “Why not just tell me the truth? I could have handled it!” Her brow hardens. “Why lie to me? Bolnoy Ded!”

“Did… did you ever meet your mother?”

The filly snaps back to reality at my words. Her eyes lose their steel and her brow softens. “I. I don’t remember her. At all. Pa-pa said that she got really sick when I was a foal and went away to live with the rest of the family at the happy place. It must have been a really sad goodbye, since every time I asked, Pa-pa would cry for hours on end.”

Don’t you dare. Don’t you dare! DON’T YOU DARE! “Where did you live after your father… you know...?” GODS DAMMIT!!

The little filly’s smile fades as a distant, glossed-eyed gaze overtakes her. “ ‘Died’?” she finished my words. I only give her a nod in reply.

“Nowhere. I stayed in the same house until it was seized by the Stalliongrad Gvardiya. They didn’t even put me up for adoption. They just tossed me out into the streets alongside everything I had on me at the time.”

I grimace. “I’m. Sorry, to hear that.” I light my horn and place my medical bag next to her. The filly gives me a warm smile and a nod in reply. I reach for my stethoscope and put the buds in my ears. “Now, then. I need you to take a deep breath. Going to check your lungs.” I keep as straight a face as I can manage, but I’m finding it more and more difficult to do so consistently. Just do your job. That’s what you’re paid for. Do. Your. Job. And no more damn questions!

“You know the hardest part of growing up in the streets? It wasn’t getting food or finding shelter. Those things are easy to come by, provided you know how to play the cards right.” The corners of her lips start to rise as her eyes grow wide and sink, the life they had once bore fading and turning dull. “The hardest part of living in that city was finding people who cared.”

Here I stand, not only bearing the full knowledge that these poor souls will suffer in the very near future, but actively being a part of the process. And for what? Money? Fame? Vindication? I shut my eyes. Dammit, please, don’t do this to me. I have a good thing going on here! Why must you make me want to throw it all away? Before this, I was almost homeless. I had no prospect of a job and a happy future. I had nothing save the bitter memory of trying to help, and failing miserably! So what if somepony else gets hurt in the pursuit of progress? I deserve this! I DESERVE THIS!

“...But you’re a nice stallion, mister.” Her words snap me back to reality. I glance at the youngling. Her expression had changed to a wide closed-eyed beam; the kind only a filly could give to a stallion who had damned himself. “Thank you… for caring.” She finishes, opening her eyes and allowing her cheery expression to lessen.

Despite the corners of my lips wanting to rise, I take a deep breath and force myself back to work. I try to ignore the warm feelings now spreading all over my chest. Don’t let another sob story sign your death warrant! You. Do. Not. CARE!

Over the next five minutes, I continue running basic tests on the filly. She’s underweight and a bit anemic, but her lungs and heart work fine. There doesn’t appear to be issues with any of her extremities either, which was very good news considering her life on the streets. Still need to run a blood sample to find out if she has any more serious issues where a physical can’t see. I reach into my bag and pull out a small syringe. The filly recoils at the sight of it. “Hey, don’t worry about it. It’s only going to hurt for a bit.”

She covers her right shoulder with her left hoof and snarls. “I. Don’t. Like. Sharp. Things!”

I roll my eyes and extend a hoof over to her. “I can’t say this won’t hurt. Because it will; a lot. But, I can at least promise that it will be over quick.”

The filly glares at the needle, utterly hesitant to do as I ask at first. But the more she looks, the softer her glare becomes, until finally, she sighs and places her hoof on mine. “I hope you aren’t lying.”

“Like I said, this will be over quick. Just take a deep breath and don’t think about it.”

She does just as I ask and looks away, shutting her eyes as tight as possible. “Just... get it over with.”

I levitated the syringe and place it over the inner elbow vein. “Alright, at the count of three.” I gently put the needle on the skin. I can see the goosebump that runs right up her foreleg and into the shoulder. “Ready?”

The filly nods, still keeping her head turned away from me. I take a deep breath to steady the nerves and start to count. “One…” soon as I end my word, I plunged the needle in, breaking right through the skin and muscle and into the vein.

“Yeouch!!” the filly shouts, but by that time, the needle’s already in. Within seconds, the syringe starts filling with blood. I bring out a cotton swab dipped in rubbing alcohol and press hard over the wound to stop any further bleeding. “What happened to ‘two’ and ‘three’?!”

“You would have been expecting that. By skipping the countdown, I subverted your expectations. Didn’t hurt as much as you expected, right?”

“Yeah… I guess.” She puffs up her cheeks and gives me her best glare. “Still hurt though!”

I shake my head and allow myself a grin. I pull the needle out and pressed harder on the wound. The mixture of pressure and alcohol make sure the puncture closes. “See, wasn’t so bad, right?”

The filly doesn’t say anything, but her soft smile tells me she’s in agreement. “Doctor?” She starts, her eyes never quite meeting mine. “I… just realized that this whole time, we’ve not been properly introduced... That’s, uh... rude of me.”

My eyes widen. Oh no. No, no, no, no. NO!

She extended her foreleg—the same one I had used to extract the blood sample—and presents her hoof. “My name’s Sun Beam—though, you can just call me ‘Sunny’ if you want!”

Reluctantly, I place my own hoof on her’s and shake it. Gently, so as to make sure I don’t agitate the already punctured limb. I say nothing, however. What can I say to her?

“Aren’t you going to give me your name?” She asks, eyeing me with a sickly sweet beam.

I divert my gaze for a second. No! I’m not supposed to! I’m not supposed to— I cut myself off with an exhale and turn back to the filly, smiling as cheerfully as I can, given the circumstances. “Briar. Briar Ghaster PhD.”

The filly raises an eyebrow. “That’s... an odd name.”

I roll my eyes. “Parents were not very imaginative. Not like it’s my fault.”

“Why not change it?”

“Because…” I rub the back of my head. “I. I kinda like it.” This time, I’m unable to hide the blush that no doubt was on my face. “Names grow on you, ya know. Besides, it’s much better than being named after an object or feeling.” I shoot Sun a glance. “Or in your case, an event that may or may not be celestial in nature.”

Sun crossed her hooves and scrunches her snoot. “You’re just jealous because I have the cooler name!”

I chuckle. “Sure.” I start to pack my tools. I have what I need. “Well, it seems you’re in a good place right now. Health-wise, that is.” You. Do. Not. Care. “Just make sure you listen to everything Dr. Grogar says—” You. Do. Not. Care. You. Do. Not. Care. You. Do. Not. Care. “—and you’ll be fine!” I bite my lower lip and silently gulp. “D-do stay out of trouble, young lady.”

The filly snickers. “Sure thing, Pa-pa!”

Everything stops in its tracks. The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end at the words. I glance back at Sunny, who is looking at me with the same shocked expression on her face. She has a hoof over her mouth and eyes that seem ready to tear up.

“W-what did you say...?”

The filly’s cheeks grow rosy as she turns away from me. “N-nothing. J-just a slip. Of the tongue!” She turns back to face me with a wide beam. “Thanks you for everything, Mr. Briar.”

“N-no problem.” I give Sun a smile of my own.

I turn away to hide the sweat now streaming down my face. It’s too late to change anything, I think to myself as I step out of the room. Too late to go back on what has been set into motion. I hear the door click shut just as I place a hoof on the nearest wall. My head’s swimming and swirling now. No. This is how it has to be. We’ve—I’ve—come too far to back out! Progress has to be paid in some way. Nothing can be gained without first giving something in return! That’s the law! T-that’s—that’s the law…

I take a deep breath and straightened myself, adjusting the collar of my labcoat and the tie of the suit I wore underneath. I continue past the other two doors and into the labyrinthine hall. Sweat dripping down my… eyes?

Perhaps it is too late for me and for everypony here. And maybe, just maybe…

“...It has always been too late,” Briar whispers before allowing himself a chuckle. It is deep, ominous, yet holds no form of deception that I can perceive.

That, more than anything, unsettles me.

I keep as straight a face as I can despite all the information Briar has divulged so far. Somehow, just the act of keeping my emotions from showing was one of the greatest challenges I had ever undertaken. If not, then it at least stood shoulder to shoulder with the likes of battling Tirek and enduring Discord’s antics on a daily basis.

I feel my brow crease as my thoughts turned to that ‘god’ of chaos. Speaking of which. Where is that buffoon anyway? He’s running late! A part of me will never be used to it. Sure, he isn’t harmful anymore—his betrayal at the hands of Tirek really doing a number on his personality—but that didn’t make him less annoying. Still, he is supporting my plans and is the vanguard of the excursion teams. I just wish he would stop brandishing that stupid cane.

I put away all thoughts of Discord and turn back to Briar just as he opens his mouth to say something. But just as suddenly, he lets out several coughs. He covers his mouth with his hooves, the final cough being more of a hack. I notice though, that in the second it took for him to regain his breath, he had lowered his hoof and had wiped it on his coat. But… I could have sworn I saw something black. There was no residue on his coat, however. Maybe it’s just my imagination.

He groans, licking his lips and grinning. “You know, I think I may need a couple more minutes and some more water. Would you be so kind?”

I give the doctor a nod and once again call for the guards. To my shock, it isn’t a golden or navy-blue garbed pony that enters the room holding a jug of water, but Discord of all beings. I almost jump out of my seat to scold him for his entry when he walks right past me and places the jug on the table. No witty quip, no attempt to show off with his power—not even his trademark goofy grin. He just looks at Briar with what I can only describe as… pity?

He snaps me out of my stupor by placing his claw on my shoulder. “I need a word with you.”

I glare at him. In his eyes, I see something I hadn’t seen since Tirek’s betrayal: pain and fear. It catches me off-guard. I nod and turn back to Briar. “It seems I’m needed. I’ll be back.”

Briar has already picked up the jug and was pouring himself a glass of water, nodding to me while he emptied the cup into his mouth. With Briar’s nod of agreement as my cue, I follow Discord outside. Four guards came into the room on cue and stand sentry.

As soon as Discord and I have stepped outside the interrogation room, I turn to him with a grimace. “You’re late! You were supposed to be my back up in this interrogation!” I walk up to him and glare daggers. “What happened?”

Discord glances to the side. “I... won’t apologize. You know that already.”

I harden my glare.

“However, there is a good reason why I’m late... “ He finally set his gaze on mine. “And that’s why I needed to talk to you.”

“Well, I’m listening.”

“Well, remember how we originally said we could not get into the caved-in sections of the bunker without more diggers?”

I jab my hoof into his abdomen. “Only because a certain somepony was too lazy to use his magic at the time!”

“Princess, I can’t believe how much animosity you have towards me!” Discord scoffs. He places a hand on his forehead. “Whatever happened to being a reasonable leader?”

I raise an eyebrow. “That may work on Fluttershy, but it’s not going to work on me.”

Discord grouses, his expression going flat. “I didn’t help out entirely because of laziness—though I cannot deny that there wasn’t any present—you know.” Discord’s gaze darkens. “There was something in that place that interfered with my magic. Your’s too; something I hadn’t felt for a very long time.”

I sigh. “Yeah… I know. I’m sorry. It’s just that…” I groan as I start to pace back and forth. “This is the first thing I—we—have to deal with, and it’s already taxing us beyond our capabilities! Talking to that doctor has shaken some of my beliefs in the world, and I know it’s only going to get worse from here on end.” I stop and set my gaze on him. “I’m sorry if I am coming off as antagonistic—though you can’t completely blame me, considering your track record.”

Discord sniggers. “Oh, don’t worry about little ol’ me. I’m used to being scorned at this point.” His expression deflates. “After all, it’s only fair after the whole debacle with Tirek. We reap the harvest we sow, after all.”

“Well, you were the one who decided to betray us. You should be thankful Celestia is not the kind of pony to hold grudges. Though I can’t talk for Luna or Cadence.”

Discord grimaces. “And it would all have been fine and dandy if Tirek had kept his word! I mean, if I had just a fraction of my old power back, I could have easily vanquished that traitor to Tartarus myself!” He laughs softly, but clears his throat when his eyes fall back on me. “But, it was for the better that he turned on me. Some people—even gods—need to get sense knocked back into them from time to time. I’d do it all over again if I had the chance.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Betraying us, getting your power sucked out, and being forced to grovel at the hooves of a demon lord bent on the conquest of everything?”

Discord smiles. “Like I said,” he taps his head a few times. “Hard knocks.”

I can’t help but laugh at that. Discord really had changed for the better since that day. Then again, it could have been the fact that he saw just how he had hurt Fluttershy. I dreaded to think how things would have turned out had she not originally showed him what he had been missing all along. He’d probably still be a statue in Celestia’s garden.

“But enough about that.” Discord’s tone and expression grows graver. “About the ‘thing’ you have to see.”

“What is it?”

Discord shakes his head, smile and optimism gone in an instant. “I… can’t do it justice. You just have to see it for yourself.”

I gulp and give Discord a nod. Here I am, getting told by a reality-altering god of chaos and mischief that he had come across something that unsettled even him.

The thought alone terrifies me. Still, as head of the ERDSCP, I have to see it and evaluate it.

I turn back to the guards. All of them had been oddly calm about Discord’s presence. I recall a time they would have given their all to put him down, even knowing full well they would not even come close to touching him. Times really have changed.

“Alright, lead the way.”

Discord snaps his fingers and teleports the two of us.

* * *

Discord and I reappear in a bright white room. When my eyes finally adjust to the light, I instantly recognized the location as one of the dozens of holding chambers built right into the subterranean levels of the Canterlot Palace, one level below the long since re-commissioned as storage space dungeons. All rooms had been mandated—and then enchanted—by Celestia herself. If something is put inside one of the cells, it was not getting out.

Past the enchanted glass pane and into the sterile white walls and floor, sat a figure. Despite the amount of light flooding in from the artificial sunlight emanated by walls and floor, the being remained shrouded in what almost appeared to be liquid shadows. The pool of oil-like blackness extended some distance away from the entity, swirling as if stirred by some unseen force. Occasionally, something like a tendril or suspiciously eye-shaped bubble of viscous liquid rose to the surface before settling back into the puddle.

Something else seemed to be moving though. On closer inspection, I realize one of the tendrils is holding on to a box of crayons, one of which was being used to draw on piece of paper. Paper that rested right on top of the puddle of black muck. Somehow though, the paper remained untouched, even when a bubble of tar-like substance popped next to it. None of the droplets of black ever stuck to it. They just slid right off. It was almost like watching liquid mercury being moved around by a magnet.

The entity is, to my complete shock, humming something to itself. The voice is difficult to describe. It almost sounds like the voice of a child, though I could not determine a gender. Mixed along with that was the sound of something being processed through a DJ’s echo filter. Still, something about the tone makes me feel soothed.

“What… in the wide, wide, wide world of Equestria.... is that?” I find myself uttering to no nopony in particular.

“That, my dear princess, is the reason I was late.” Discord’s tone lacks most of its usual mocking timbre. It instead come off as straightforward. I don’t think I have ever heard that kind of tone from him.

“H-how…?”

Discord places a claw on his chin. “Truth be told, I don’t really remember how. It all blurred together like that one Gala, only without so much smooze ooze to clean up afterwards.” He laughs, but each giggle out of his lips sounds uneasy. “The important part is that we found her and, thanks to my skill, got her here without issue.”

“ ‘Her’?” I ask, jaw growing slacker with every passing minute.

“That’s what she said. You can ask if you don’t believe me.” Discord motions to the entity.

I take a deep breath and step closer to the glass. The being within takes notice. It raises its head—or what I hope is a head and not something else—and stops coloring the drawing. “Wha-wha…” I catch myself and change the question. “W-who are you?”

The being places the crayon box down on top of the paper and sits straight.

“͕̦̣A̠r̜͔͉̥̭͕e̫̣ͅ ͔̩͕̮̻̰y̘͔̖͍̥͉̼ͅo͖̬̹̟̟̥̬̥u̪̩…̣͎̜̹ ̜̠̣

P-pr͖͖͚̠͉i̪̰̼̝͔͚̹̞n̠͍̥̪͉̫̜c͍̥͎̖̠͎̠̭e̥͓̘̙̘̟̯̞s̱͉̦͓̣̠̣s̝̝͚̠̠. ͉̬̼̩

S͙͓̝̰̞̗p͙̤̜͚͚ͅa̺͓̬͎̣̳r͉̟̦̬͖k͕̫̥͙̻̞̖l̹̣e̻̝̱̟͈?̯͎̝̥̫̫̱̫”̻̣̞̤̲̺͖̮̰

The voice rings in every possible direction. It takes me a few seconds to conclude that the entity was somehow speaking directly into my mind. “Y-yes. I am indeed Princess Twilight Sparkle. And you are?”

The being stands up, her weight shifting the mass of black underneath.

“̻.͍̫͕̺̙̹͚̗.̘͕͍̩̖.͚̤̪u̬͚̗̞̦̤̣̙s̳̦ḛ̱d̫̮͎͈ ̘t̻̥̣̭̞͈̜ͅo͎ͅ ̪̱̘ͅh̠̮a͚̠v͚͔̥̬̩̺e͕̘͚̺͓̲͎…̟̼̞̙̪͓ ̞̞̜͔n̦̼̣̻̻̭͙̦̻a̭̯̩̣̪m͙̻͖͖̮e͖̻.̫͍̠̣̥̰ ͕̙͙̼͖̼ͅ
̠̙̲̬̠̟͖̝̳

͎̹̜̱N̯͙̤̩̭͉̳̰o͖̜̗̲͕͖̼̦,͇̝ ͖͔̣̳̝͍͉n͉͙͍̪o͈̥̩̰̹t̙̫̺̹̲̖͓͔ ͇̤̜͎r̫̣̯i͚͔̱g̱͇̦̗̤͎ͅh͎̩t̺͇͓̦̪.̖̗͖̤̹͍ ͉͉̰̦̦̳͖̫F̝͍͓̞͙̠̮̭͉i̻͚͈̭̘l͎̲͉͇l̼̖̤̘ͅy̲͚̮̦͉̼ ̣̺̩̙͚͙h͇̫̞͚a̦̜̯̰̱̖͔ͅD̗̱̥̮̘̦͔̤͖ ̫͚̟̠n̤̭̬̟̰̫̦̬̩a͉̹̼m͇͍e̖̘̪͇̻̝͚̯…͖̱͍̼̺̼͕̩̮ ̤̰̭͇̳̬̳̻r͔͚̘̳̤̤̼i̺̥̪̞g̦̖̱̥̦̬̱h̘̯̱ṱ̫̞ ̜̭̞͎̯̰̩̝͈b̫͇̹̟͈͖e͈̩̞͓̱̼͙f̗͓̟̝̺͎o̹̬͓̘̮͖̫r̯̠̫͔̹̜̫̝͇e͈…͖͈͈̤̮̠ ̳͇̳̱̝ṃ̝̞̰͖̳̖͔e̜͓̝͎̪̣͙̣͙r͍̭g̘͎̻̳͎̘̩ͅe͕ͅ.͚̮̯̪̝͓

̪̗̟̫͕
Ma̩n͉̬̲͕͉͙y͎̣̭͉ ̣̻̮͓̗͕̯̱t̙͍̞͚̳͉ͅh͈͕̘̩̻͇͈̠i̼̗ͅn̼g̗̠s̰̺̝̻͙͖̙͈.

̞̤͙̘̠S-̭̥̯̺s̹̘͙̘͇̠h̝ͅͅo̮̜̥̱u̥ḻ̘̮̘̘̣͙̝d̜͍͍̥͙͓͇̹ ̮̱̻̼͈͖̪n͍̰̳̗̯̭͍̖o̮͖t̬̳ ̞̟̰̞ͅh̰̮̰a͙̲̻v̫̻̠̮e̙͇̥̥̲̹̞̗ ͖̘͚̻̯b͉̹͉͖͓̻̻e̥̫̫e̫͍n͙ ̣͕̬̳f͎ͅo̙̣̖̰̤̳̩̙̲r̜͕͈̤̥̠g̫̦͙̥͔͔o͇̦̹͕t͚̭̲̼̯̦t̥͈̭͚e̙̙̩̻̱̹̥̻ṇ̮̠͖…̗̘ͅ”͖͔̯̙

She places one of her ‘hooves’ on her ‘head.’

“̤͍̣ͅI͉̪͙͎͖͙͈̟-͉ͅI̹̗̙̬̞̞-͈͚̭̩͉I̹̩̝̭͙̱̞…̗͔̱̖̣ ͚̝͖͇̣͖r̮̫̺e̬̩̟̫̺̗m͍̯e͎̠m̼̲͍̩̖̮̘̻͉b̠̗͖e̳͚͎̠̮̺̪r̰̝̺͈̮͍͍ͅ…̼̝̥͇̳̜̪͚͔ ̻̯̰̯̞̮̝̤b̖͍̦ͅl̳͔͕̜̘a̭̼̟͖̹c̞̣̝͖̤̝͙k̠̯̜̳ ̣̲̯v͍͓o͓͕̞̮̟̙̳̩i͎̖͉̮̫̲ḓ̭̺̝̹…̮̫̣̗ ̦͚d̜̦͚a̪͎͍̤r̬̦̜̫̰͍ͅk̲̣n̤̗̖̦̫̼̮e̠̪s̘̥̝̬̹͖s̞̙͓̭̟͔̤.̫͉ ̮͓
̯̠̠̫͚̬͎͙

Kn̳̯̫̞̺ͅo̺̤̠͔̭w͕̟̬͖̩̳̬ͅl͔̠͔e̠̩͍͎͙̖̭̠d̬̟̹̘̮͔g͈̥̝̠̗̖̮ͅe̱͙̬͕ ̩̻̮w̗i͍̜̱̰t͈̝h͙o͔u̳̯̼̘̙t͙͙̼̯ ̗̳̠̝͕̥͎f̗̻o̦̰̣r̻̼̹͖̮m͇̞̣̝̹ͅ…̤̲̖̺̰̹͖ ͍̫̻͔̰̪̳̥S̘͔̥ͅe̝̳̜̩̰̫̯̖̻n͇͎̦ṭ͖ị̜̭̥e̘̭̦͖̜͔n̦̯̝͈̬̰̱̬̜c̦͍͓̖e̩.̺̫̗͇ͅ ̩͖̗̤̪

̭̖̩͎͚
̹̖̪̣͓̣̦̺ͅW̭͕͙̳ͅi͎͍͚̳͚͔͎̮t̞̬͎̦̩h̖̝̜̣̙̱̜̳ͅo͎͖u̲̬̠̭̪̝̭t̠̣͓̪-̦̺̯͉̤̩͍̰ͅw̪͈̩̲͎͈͖i̘̳͇̻t̮̻̗̣̫̳̻̝̼h͎̮̣o̟͚̯̜͔͖u͖͇͙͔̱̬t͈̫̖̳ ̤̞̖͈̦͙p͔͔̟̺-̝̱p̫̦̥-̲̹̯p͚̭̦͇u̩͍̺r̙̪͕̖̥̩̞p̝̲̣̼̗͔͙̬̘o͓̭̩s̺e̼̤̼̱̫.͎̬̟̭͍ ͔̬̫
͕͚̝̠

A-am̘a̬͇̦̤͍l̳̲̗g̳̼̮̣̘a̖̥m̲͔̮̝̰a̭̜͕̞̟͈͈t̺̭̝͉̘̺̪̥͓ị̳̯̝̥̝̭o̪̟͚̫̺̭n̰͔̬̺̼̥̺.̬̟̣̼̝̮ͅ ̼̙̖ ̭

̩̤͇̙̼̫
̘̹͕̫̭̦͚W̰͖͇͎-̲̗̯̯w̠͍̼̝͓͕̫̬h̫͓̗̙a̯̬͉̱t͔̜…̗̻̺̭ ̤͍̩ͅw̘͔̬̱h̗̬̦o̹̖̺̤͈…͔͉̝̱͖̦͙ ̳̥̭̲̩͔ͅͅw̥̫͕̯h̰͖̻y̠̙̟͇̣͈̲̭̠…͉̘̼̖̝?̰̳̰͍͍”̲͓̻̪̞̳̳

She shakes her head, finally turning around to face me. I recoil away from the sight, bumping into Discord. The beings lips quiver and twist. Finally, out of the constantly fluxing facade, a set of ‘eyes’ appear. Cyan pony eyes.

“̗̟̯ͅD͓̖̫̞̟͓o̳ ̲̖͖͍ḵ̬̺̳̗͓̝n̠̤̰̟o̭w͍̭̖…͔͕̼͈̯͚͖ ͖̫̠͚̗̤̞s̗͉͚o̞̗m͕͈e̤̟͓̗̦͎͔o̠̦̖͇̣̪̺̠n̮̩̠͈͔e̤̱…̹̱̳͚ ͈̫̺r̳̬͖e͚̗͉̺̻ͅm͎̰̳̫̣e͉̣̣̬̤̪̜̜m͉ḇ̜͔̙̺̞͇͙e͎̝r̠̮̱̼̥̯͔͚s̭̙̭͔͚.͈̣ ̫̳̖̯̤̭̟̬
̩̞͎̩

̫̳͓̰ͅ G͚̫-̪̺̮g̖̜̟̘-͈̺g̜o͕̗͈̟̗̥͉̼o̭̠͔̳̗d̖̼͎̙ͅ ̳̙̯̬̱̰̻͈p̞o͈͙̬n̜̣̫̠̮ͅͅͅy̠.̘͈̫̜̣ ̻͎̪̗̟

̦̘͎̮̹
̫̞D̬̮̫͍͕̲̥-̺͉̖̩̹̠̮ͅd͕̰͕̱̥͚̣̬-͓̩d̬͇̟̭͉e͓̞͇̯̩͙̳̞a̙̩͍r̳͚̣̗̝͖̫̫ ͖̬̣̪̗̟͓ͅf̣̲̹̭̙͉͍r͔̯̬̞̮̲i͎͔̤̲̭̤e̼ṉ̹̪̮͕̖͇d͙̞̖͍͉̟̻.̹̭͍̜̲͎̼ͅ ̪̯̘̭̫
͕͖͚̭̻̺̬̰

̦͇ S̬̲̖͚ͅa̯̠v̭̰̹i̪̭̯o̲̰̲̦̖ṟ̠̳̯.̜̭̠̫̙̮̼̝ ̭

̰͎̟̘͎͖̟
̗̠̙̙͔̝ Bu̲̪͈̳t͓͎̲̥͔̭̺̖͖…̙̖̞̞̹͔̙ ̪̳̱̣̯̫̦u͙̭̭͓̱͕̮s̻̩̦h̝̹̰e̯̘̳̹̟r͈e̗r̦̺̙.̣͉͓͍̰̼ͅ ̥͕̠̳͚
̙͍̤͓̩̦͙̰ͅ

͓̪ A̪̯̙̜̟͉͔̺ͅl͔̳̘̠l͈̭̬̼̙̬ ̘̺̝̣t̗h͎̺̫͇̳̬͕̹e͖͈̪͎̺̰̯͎͙ ̰͓͈͕͍͓s̠̗̤̻͉a̱̙̲̠ṃ̻̥̱e͍̹.̹̭̞̮̥͎̲͔”͇̯̱̪̥

I take a deep and very difficult breath. “A-and, who is this… pony...?”

The being’s face lights up, eyes growing to the size of teacup plates. A wide toothy grin forms from the tar-like void that was her face, supplanting the former mouth—which twists and swirls until it is consumed by the emerging facade. Teeth—or rather, what would have been teeth, had they not appeared to be jagged pieces of sharpened ivory—formed into a cheshire grin as she spoke the word without ever moving her new ‘lips’:

“͔̖̭͈͆̑ͩͥ̈̀̕P͎̭͔̦̺̼̿͌̆ ̬͕͓̪̤͇̇̊̋ͫ͋ͨ͜A̵̹͍̳͒̋ͪ́̉̒͒̿…̹̦͔̺̭͚̺͔̬̂͌̾̋́ͥͪ̕͜

̫̹͕ͬ̅̀P̫̻̖̙̣̰͗̒͊ͧ̽̋͒ ̷̩̜̝͖̮̳͉͒̚A̷̵̢̘͈̬̙̜̥̝͉ͬ̊̆ͥ̉ͪ̐.̢͓̗͙̻͓̯̗̫͔͊̈̔͑ͧ͛́̀”̵͕̤́ͫ̒̅̍