Harpflank and Sweets: The Lost Episodes

Chapters

Episode 16: Great and Powerful
Episode 32: The Drop of a Hat
Episode 11: Heart of Winter
Episode 33: Surprise Party - Part 1
Episode 30: New Players
Episode 31: A New Sheriff in Town

Episode 16: Great and Powerful

HARPFLANK AND SWEETS

Created by Arcainum
Written by Supersheep64

Opening Titles

Metropony City! Mighty skyscrapers towering over the millions of ponies going about their lives on the streets below! Working, playing or just taking in the weather, Metropony bustles as only the big city can. But! All is not well in this equine metropolis! Below the streets lies a threat - a threat to the happiness and friendship of good ponies everywhere! And the name of that threat is Luna, the exiled Princess who has returned with vengeance in her eyes! With the aid of Her villainous helper Trixie and her army of terrible Lunatrons, She will stop at nothing to destroy the pony way of life! Standing against her, however, are two heroic mares, known only to the citizens of Metropony as...

HARPFLANK AND SWEETS: EPISODE 16 - GREAT AND POWERFUL

Scene 1

A cold wind blew through the autumn night, sending dead leaves dancing across the yellowed face of the moon. In the crevices of Metropony, vermin of all kinds scavenged for scraps and sought to hide from the City's neon lights. In a bar two blocks over, the victor of a hoof-wrestle gave a drunken cheer that could be heard in Canterlot.

On this night, a commanding presence strode through the dismal scum of these streets. Undaunted by the grime, she held her head high, as if commanding the filth to part before her through sheer confidence alone.

Trixie turned a corner into a narrow alley, resisting the urge to wrap her spangled cape around her shoulders as a nighttime breeze rustled her brilliant sapphire fur. Even when seemingly alone, The Great and Powerful Trixie refused to show weakness, and instead abandoned her mantle to the whims of the biting wind.

To any other pony, the claustrophobic space and creeping darkness of these back streets would inspire nervousness and unease. Perhaps they would feel a chilling dread tortuously crawl down their spine, slow and creeping like a sadistically minded spider. Perhaps they would be unable to stop glancing over their shoulder, fearing something hiding in ambush as they subconsciously increased the pace of their trembling hooves.

But not Trixie. Even without her robotic armaments, Trixie had nothing to fear from the night as long as she served it's princess.

And the two Lunar Guards mirroring her steps couldn't hurt either.

As silent and stoic as their diurnal counterparts, the luminescent golden eyes of the twin soldiers penetrated every shadow as they slid through the night. Their bat-like wings clung close to their sides, covering up the glint of their armor as they moved almost unnoticeably through the darkened street. Clasped to the back of their breastplates were a pair of Nocturne swords, short and fast blades forged from the magic of the night Princess herself. Gifted only to her personal guards, these weapons could slice through tank armor and cut the wings off of a moth in mid-flight... Which made them perfect for the stealthy and versatile warriors she made them for.

Being Luna’s right hoof mare, Trixie had every clearance to direct the (admittedly few) members of this rare and elite force, but she seldom ever invoked that right. If asked, she would say that she preferred to rely on the reliable constant of her own technological defenses than the variable skill of a soldier, but that was hogwash. The Night Guard had no variance, due to a training course so brutal that it alone was one of the main reasons they were so few in number.

In truth, Trixie chose not to employ their services because she was still bitter that her Highness seemed unable to forge her nocturne steel into anything larger than those glorified toothpicks. Such a waste of potential on something so low-tech, it... irked her.

But tonight was different. The mare Trixie intended to meet had... Unusual talents. Unusual enough to force Trixie to take these additional measures, this extra show of force. The Enchantress needed to know that the Lunar Empire was not a force to be taken lightly.

Trixie stepped out into the moonlight, her journey reaching an end in the unloading bay located in the architectural crevice behind an infrequently used Barnyard Bargains Megastore. Trixie swallowed down her nervousness as her eyes were drawn to the shadowy figure hidden completely inside of a dark brown cloak. The exotic mare sat silently by the parked delivery trucks, her obscured face tilted upwards in peaceful meditation.

Even though the Enchantress gave no acknowledgement to the new arrivals, Trixie knew that this was all nothing but mind games... Something that she too must take part in. Intent on making the necessary impression, Trixie stood a moment, letting her cape billow impressively in the nighttime breeze as her guards made themselves visible in a clear warning to not try anything funny.

This stalemate proceeded for a time, seconds stretching on and on until, finally, the Enchantress ceased in her repose. The posturing complete, Trixie turned to her guards and motioned for them to leave. Instantly, the twin stallions stepped backwards, vanishing completely into the shadows.

As Trixie approached her rendezvous partner, she almost managed to convince herself that the Enchantress wasn’t chuckling at this demonstration of force from some of the deadliest soldiers on the planet. In spite of this simple mockery, Trixie never let her composure slip, ignoring the ever-building feeling of nervous tension knotting up in her throat.

Though Trixie would never admit it, any mare who failed to be intimidated even slightly by the threat of Luna's wrath greatly worried her.

The Enchantress spoke in her melodic voice, the sound emerging from the striped muzzle barely peeking out from under her hood.

“I see that the Moon’s pet is arriving late. Perhaps you should not arrange meetings if you have too many things on your plate?”

Trixie reigned in her temper. She had a feeling that she’d be doing a lot of that before this night was through.

“Careful, Enchantress. Have you not heard that the customer is always right? I mean, really? You ask me to meet you next to a supermarket, and yet you can’t follow their most holy mantra. It’s a wonder you can stay in business at all.”

The Enchantress took exception to the comparison.

“I am not some pimple-faced youth. I simply reserve my manners for customers that are far less uncouth. It’s no secret that your business I abide... Only because of the payment that none but your mistress can provide.”

Trixie smirked. If the Enchantress was getting pissy, then she must be doing something right.

“Then please, don’t waste my time any longer. The Amulet, you have it?”

The Enchantress tilted her head coyly, motioning out an implication with her hooves.

“Indeed I have the trinket you seek, but first... You must pay me with the stones most unique."

Trixie’s horn lit up, pulling a small sack out from under her cape. Floating under the Zebra’s nose, she loosened the string, revealing a horde of pale white, dusty pebbles. Trixie could almost sense The Enchantress's eyes widening at the sight.

The reaction was hardly unwarranted, seeing as it was a bag of Moonrock, the most magically pliable substance known to equinekind. The rare, unobtainable stones could be used to store or channel absolutely any enchantment, and the ground up powder was a base for more potions that could be listed in any arcane cookbook.

So valuable were they, that being in possession of the substance was practically like obtaining the cheat codes for the economy. Bankers and Tycoons had been known to abandon their assets at the mere implication of digging up a meteor of the stuff, and powerful sorcerers had often forced their firstborn children into marriage in the hopes of acquiring the merest pebble.

Trixie had to go to no such lengths to acquire her sample, however. By some strange coincidence, the Lunar Empire had the exclusive access to the only major source of Moonrock in the Solar System.

Trixie dropped the bag into a pair of waiting hooves, glaring slightly in anticipation of a double cross. She was only slightly surprised however, when The Enchantress instead reached into her robes and procured a gleaming onyx necklace, masterfully crafted and beset by a flawless crimson gem.

Smiling genuinely for the first time in... However long it had been, Trixie levitated the Amulet before her, verifying for herself the authenticity of the artifact.

“The Alicorn Amulet... It’s even more impressive than I had imagined...”

It was at this point the Enchantress turned cold, cutting into Trixie’s thoughts with a stern warning.

“Do not be entranced by its deceptive shine. Despite it’s name, the power it holds is far from divine. I surrendered it only because I know that of wielding it, you have no shot. History’s best and brightest have failed to tame it, so what chance have you got?”

Trixie bristled, no longer content to let this impudence slide. She scoffed, her voice laden with hostility.

“Oh, please do tell me! How exactly do you believe that this accessory is going to undo my grand designs?”

The Enchantress raised her head, staring intently as if attempting to pierce Trixie’s head with her glowing yellow eyes.

"You assume that you have the measure of this dark power most tragic... But you have abandoned your calling and taken up machine over magic! Sure enough, this cursed amulet will help you achieve your dark goals, though only at a cost... a cost of your own blackened soul."

Trixie laughed in her face. It was a cold, mirthless sound.

"I am well aware of it's history, Enchantress. I assure you that I have no intention of wearing this abominable trinket. I simply wish to focus it's power into my latest creation and crush my continual adversaries."

Trixie leant forwards, close enough that she could smell the swamp and incense on the Zebra's robes.

“And if you ever insult my magic again, I will show you how Great and Powerful I truly am."

Trixie returned to a less threatening distance, glaring all the while. Oddly, the Enchantress was seemingly unmoved by this.

"I hope so, Trixie... I can only wish you luck on living up to your name. For I fear the whole world has been waiting too long for you to show proof of those claims."

Before Trixie could properly articulate her outrage, the Enchantress cut her off.

"Trixie, a harsh lesson you are about to learn. But for now, our meeting is adjourned."

The Enchantress took a step back, reaching into the folds of her cloak before throwing a potion bottle that shattered on the ground. Trixie shielded her eyes as, in a flash of light, harsh lime green smoke billowed out, enveloping the zebra in an incredibly sparkly shroud.

When the smoke had cleared, the Enchantress was nowhere to be seen.

Trixie was lost for words.

"B-But... That's my getaway technique! Of all the-"

She trailed off, inwardly calming herself. She began to slip the amulet into her cloak, frowning ever so slightly.

"This amulet better have all the power she says it does..."

"Oh come on Trixie, I thought that claiming to be more powerful than you actually are was a recurring theme with you. You can't break the trend now!"

Totally not flinching at the sound of the intruding voice, Trixie grit her teeth as her quiet night out was instantly ruined. For there, standing atop the derelict supermarket, framed against the glorious moonlight were her most hated nemesi, the most loathsome, despicable, monstrously ugly, barely cognizant, horrendously meddlesome, utterly irredeemable and unhygienically oriented ponies in all of Luna’s great Empire.

Harpflank and Sweets had found her.

Scene 2

A hash light flooded the dark alleyway. Trixie’s cape fluttered in the downdraft from a dozen beating wings as four fully-armed military chariots surrounded her position, illuminating her in the accusing gaze of their side-mounted spotlights.

Blinded by the beams, Trixie could only feel the hostile intent of the M.A.R.E. agents bearing down on her. Although her maladjusted eyes rendered her unable to see her enemies, with all the anxious tension in the air, one did not have to be a true genius like Trixie to know that there were dozens of guns being aimed at her from all sides.

Although Trixie stood undefended, she was hardly concerned. For all their posturing, M.A.R.E agents were too soft to shoot an unarmed prisoner. Her guards had no such compunctions however, leaving her petty foes quite lucky that they were currently under orders only to reveal themselves when Trixie truly needed their services.

And why would Trixie ever need protection from unfired bullets?

Squinting, Trixie lowered her hat to shade her eyes, gritting her teeth at the twin silhouettes framed on an adjacent rooftop. The eerie warnings of her supplier faded from her mind as an irritatingly familiar voice echoed down, igniting a fire of hatred in Trixie's soul.

"Well, well, well... The Great and Powerful Trixie out for a midnight stroll... And caught with her Lunatron around her ankles."

Forcing her eyes to adjust to the glare, Trixie hatefully glanced skywards, meeting her foes eye to eye.

"Harpflank and Sweets, still stalking me I see. Do you two ever clock off your pathetic misguided jobs?"

Harpflank just grinned her idiotic grin.

"Not so long as there's still a chance to knock your clock off, Trixie!"

Sweets slumped out of her dynamic posing, looking at her partner with practiced disbelief.

"That doesn't make any sense."

Harpflank pouted.

"We'll maybe if you came up with a witty response once in while, I wouldn't have run out of good ones by now..."

Another voice called out, this one emanating from the chariot hovering in the sky immediately behind Trixie, or as Trixie identified it, the one that was blocking her most pertinent escape route. Showing only a self-satisfied smirk, Trixie turned to face the speaker, beholding a grey pegasus leaning over the side, her own weapon firmly planted towards the immaculate forehead of the unfairly beset Trixie.

“Trixie! Surrender now, or we will be required to exert force!”

Trixie’s smirk only grew.

“So this is the pony who commands my pathetic opposition? Trixie has heard of the blind leading the blind, but I didn’t expect you to embody the saying quite so...”

She tilted her head as she mockingly fluttered her eyes.

“... Literally.”

Derpy’s expression darkened.

“I can see perfectly well that we have you cornered, you hack.”

All of the gathered M.A.R.E agents aimed their guns at her even harder, redundantly re-cocking their weapons in a synchronous ultimatum to stand down or suffer a number of bullet holes in altogether inconvenient places.

Trixie bowed low, doffing her hat to the commander.

“And Trixie congratulates you on your convincing illusion. As a former performer herself, Trixie can appreciate the effort it took to pull off.”

Trixie twisted her hoof, letting a landslide of small, cell-phone sized devices pour out of her hat and onto the ground. Trixie grabbed them with her magic, spinning them into position, forming a whirling metallic barrier around her as they activated. The tiny machines glowed, not just with the cool blue of Trixie's telekinesis, but with an inner power, causing them to twist and grow larger and more complex, more articulated, more equine.

Sweets gasped in shock, calling out the word that instantly ran through the mind of everypony present.

“Lunatrons!”

The agents opened fire, turning the cramped alleyway into an intense maelstrom of ricocheting metal. As her machines moved in close to shield her from the hailstorm,Trixie threw a capsule to the cobblestone below her hooves, enveloping the entire area in an expanding cloud of smoke.

With no line of sight, the agents could only fire wildly into the cloud like raw recruits, counting on nothing else but potluck to score a hit on their targets.

On their adjacent rooftop, Harpflank and Sweets tensed in preparation, alert for any sign of their longtime adversary in the smoky bedlam raging beneath them. Perhaps it was this alertness that saved them, their super-senses formulating an almost psychic level of detection that alerted them to the deadly blades cleaving towards them from behind.

What is certain, is that if Lyra had not been supernaturally fast and agile, the Lunar Guard would have taken her head as he tore out of the shadows. Lyra spun with the attack, barely twisting her neck out of the way as she dodged. She reflexively struck out in response, landing a glancing blow against his armor that forced him to back off and rethink his attack.

As the warriors disappeared into darkness yet again, Lyra raised a hoof to her cheek, feeling warm blood. She glanced back to her partner, noting as she did that Bon-Bon’s tail was a lot shorter than it used to be.

“Who the heck are these guys?”

To her surprise, Bon-Bon winked at her.

“I dunno, but I can tell you who they’re not...”

Being primarily assassins as well as soldiers, one of the first teachings of the Lunar Guards was to strike fast, strike first and, most pertinently, to always kill your foe in a single stroke. Failing this, the second lesson was to always, always learn from their mistakes.

Attacking Harpflank and Sweets one-on-one had seemed to be ineffective, so changing tactics, they both lunged from the same direction, their Nocturne blades crossing in a deadly scissor formation as they attacked Sweets from both high and low.

Bon-Bon grabbed Lyra’s forelegs, suddenly spinning around and hurling her partner between the oncoming swords as Lyra lashed out and kicked both of them in the un-helmeted face.

“...They ain't superheroes, that’s for sure.”

Meanwhile, in the alley, Trixie’s enchanted smoke showed no signs of clearing, as bullets continued to rain down on the perceived location of the villainous trickster.

With ammo running out and absolutely no signs of any progress being made, Derpy’s lead pegasus pilot made a snap decision, tilting downwards as he brought the chariot in close, the steady beat of his and his team’s wings swiftly working to clear away the smokescreen. Eyes widening in shock, Derpy turned to the cockpit, yelling over the noise of the vehicles and gunfire.

“No! Don’t break formation! Don’t brea-”

It was too late though. Wreathed in smoke, six Lunatrons leapt out of the cloud, clinging onto the side of the chariot like a swarm of monkeys. Two of them dived into the vehicle, wresting the weapons from the panicking Agents while the remaining four used the chariot as a launching platform to attack the other aircraft in the cordon.

Derpy growled out a furious battle cry as the gunfire ceased, only to be replaced by cries of pain and mechanical violence. The last glimpse Lyra had of her fearless leader was the Commander gripping a Lunatron in a vice-esque headlock before her chariot spun out of sight and crashed somewhere a few blocks away.

There was a crash right behind Lyra as the Lunar guard who had been about to shank her was sent sprawling by Bon-Bon hurling his partner at him like he and his armour weighed no more than a battered, featherless pillow.

“Lyra!”

Bon-Bon was pointing a hoof down into the alleyway, drawing attention to the caped mare galloping away unscathed, magically clutching an ill-gotten amulet close to her chest.

“I got it!”

Lyra left Bon-Bon to clear up the small fry as she swiftly gave chase to the fleeing Trixie, catching up with her incredible speed before somersaulting over her head and cutting off her escape.

“Not this time, Trixie! You’re gonna answer for your crimes, be it in court, or at the end of my fist!”

Ignoring that Lyra possessed no such anatomy, Trixie bared her teeth in anger.

“Damn you, Harpflank! Trixie is nopony’s prisoner! Why do you just not know when to give up?”

Trixie’s horn blazed brighter, grasping hold of the various items of trash and refuse dotting the dank alleyway. Lyra expertly dodged side-to-side as Trixie hurled object after object at her in desperation.

“Me?... Have... You... Looked... In... The... Mirror... Lately?!”

Lyra dashed forwards, instantly closing the gap between them. She pulled back a foreleg, power coursing through every muscle. They had been doing this dance week after week, an unending struggle of assault and rebuttal, of peril and rescue, of Trixie endangering everything she cared about.

All of this strife, she poured into her hoof, ready to finally knock out her nemesis, to finally strike a significant victory against the evil threatening her home. She lashed out, the impact resounding through the very bones of both mares, a rippling shockwave of force that set their nerves ablaze with painful stimulation. Under her hoof, Lyra felt something break.

There was a moment of silence.

Holding her breath, Trixie tentatively opened one eye. Surprisingly, she was still awake. Even more surprisingly, she wasn’t even in pain!

Without a word, Trixie and Lyra met each other with an equally stunned gaze. The two of them blinked out an unaskable question as, with a twinge of fear, they found they couldn’t move.

In unison, they both traced their eyes down to where Lyra’s hoof had met Trixie’s resistance. Instinctively, Trixie had raised her magic in defence, blocking Lyra’s strike with the only thing she currently held.

The Alicorn Amulet.

With a sound like the earth splitting, a hairline crack spread across the ruby gemstone. An unearthly glow diffused out from the stone and scorched every surface it touched, an all-encompassing crimson sphere of incalculable magical forces gathering and colliding like an unstoppable tornado of light.

Then it exploded.

The sound was... skin crawling. It was a noise almost as if some ancient, immortal entity had recorded the death throes of whole a solar system, every gut wrenching moment as every planet and star collectively cried out for their mommas before being obliterated into a nebula of eternally-shifting space dust... Almost as if that malicious god had taken that moment of incomprehensible suffering, uploaded it into their cosmic computer, played it in reverse and slapped some creepy reverb on there just to make absolutely sure that the space kids would need extensive counselling to make the nightmares stop after listening to it.

The explosion was like the sun hiccuping. Streams of crimson lightning leveled buildings, half the city’s windows melted, and passing clouds caught on fire. Amazingly though, for all the destruction’s intensity, whenever the magic touched living things, it passed through as if they weren't even there.

The battle not far away came to a sudden end as the crimson force tore through the combatants like an electrical storm. M.A.R.E. Agents dropped their weapons as they disintegrated in their hooves, and the attacking Lunatrons shook apart like a tumble dryer with a brick inside, breaking into uncountable fragments as they scattered across the battlefield.

Then, as fast as it had appeared, the energy dissipated, fizzling out across Metropony like a pill dissolving in water.

Sparing only a glance for the confused survivors, Bon-Bon galloped over to the crater at the source of the blast. Panicking, she rushed to Lyra's side and shook her like a ragdoll.

"Lyra?!... Lyra!!... Say something!"

Bon-Bon relaxed as her friend groaned in response, stirring as if from a bad dream. As Lyra regained her faculties, Bon-Bon couldn't help but gape at the devastation around them.

“Lyra, what... happened?”

The stunned mare blinked the spots from her eyes as she slowly rose to her haunches. She looked around in confusion.

“I... Won, I guess?”

Bon-Bon conceded the point, quickly scanning the area for any trace of Trixie or her guards. Finding nothing but garbage, wreckage and smashed robot parts, she quietly growled her annoyance.

“It looks like she slipped away again. We need to be more careful in future, whatever she used to escape was clearly way more potent than her usual pyrotechnics.”

Lyra punched a hoof to the ground in frustration.

“Damn it! I had her that time! I had her!”

Bon-Bon sighed.

“Yeah, I know, I know. It’s tempting to just not get our hopes up, but in this struggle... Hope is really our only real defense, you know?”

Though not at all mollified, Lyra nodded the truth of her partner’s words as she rubbed at the headache she could feel coming on.

“Next time, then... Next time...”

Lyra and Bon-Bon blinked as an insistent beeping drew their attention to Bon-Bon’s saddlebags. With practiced ease, she reached in and pulled out their communicator, activating its advanced holographic display. It was only a testament to Ex-Tech practicality that the hardy device had made it through the magic surge in a functional form.

They somewhat recoiled when presented with the sight of burning wreckage and accompanied by the beaming face of their no less disheveled commander interposed in the foreground.

“Are you okay, Commander?”

The dazed mare continued to grin, her eyes roaming even more absently than usual as she swayed from side to side. Derpy’s uniform hung in tatters, leaving plenty of space for her her grey coat to become stained with deep black robo-fluid. Clearing her throat, Derpy brushed oily screws and broken microchips from her singed mane before addressing her agents.

“Ah, don’t worry about me. It’ll take more than some cheap robots to take me out of the picture. More importantly, how did things go on your end?”

There was an explosion behind her as the chariot’s electrical systems ignited, sending the injured M.A.R.E. agents fleeing from the wreckage. Derpy pretended not to notice.

Holding their breath, Lyra and Bon-Bon glanced at each other.

“Well, uh, Trixie got away. Again.”

At the news, Derpy deflated only slightly, her possible concussion working wonders to maintain a positive outlook.

“That’s too bad, but at least we stopped her from getting her hooves on what she came for!”

Lyra blinked.

“We did?”

Derpy just nodded her head, her swaying becoming more erratic as the adrenaline wore off.

“Good job girls. See... See you back at base.”

Lyra had just enough time to see the Commander fall over before she cut the connection and left the confused unicorn looking to her partner for support.

“Am I missing something here?”

Silently, Bon-Bon raised a hoof, indicating for Lyra to turn her attention to that which had passed under their notice until now.
Deep black wings clasped tightly around Lyra’s neck, perfectly framing the ruby gemstone that glinted in the moonlight. Lyra bit her lip, a strange chill creeping down her spine as her eyes were drawn to the gaping crack spindling it’s way across the previously flawless gem. There was an itching sensation at the base of her horn as she watched the sickly red glow leaking from the fissure.

Tentatively, Lyra raised a hoof to the gem, only to withdraw it in reflex as crimson streams of dark magic burst out towards the limb in a hungry torrent of sparks. Gulping, Lyra looked down at the burnt fur where the magic had touched her.

“Oh... Well that isn’t good.”

Scene 3

Princess Luna loved the dark. She loved it in all of its forms, from the cooling shade of a hanging branch to the absolute void of a sealed cellar. So deep was her fascination with the concept that she even invented a whole half-of-the-day utterly dedicated to it.

It was of great frustration to the errant Princess when she discovered that the patent office refuses to acknowledge Luna’s ownership of her creation. To her outrage, they maintain the stance that in the the millennia since it’s conception, nighttime has ceased to be privately owned and is now become a part of the public domain.

Equally, Luna maintains the stance that she and the patent office will be having some harsh words when her Empire reclaims Equestria. As being the recipient of Luna's regular words has been known to cause permanent deafness in four out of ten cases, the act of receiving her harsh words was somewhat akin to facing a firing squad.

Patent or no patent, Luna was not one to be discouraged from her art... And Luna certainly had darkness down to an art form. Even while forced to keep her gifts close to her chest, her creativity thrived! There was no better demonstration of this than in her own home, where every available inch of her fortress was lit in tribute to her craft.

Each and every wall was coated in great veils and curtains of darkness, each one a perfect frame to the myriad inviting pools of shadow that ebbed and flowed to and from the alcoves and archways at the whims of an unknowable tide. Shaded bulbs and flickering torches cast soft light along dim passageways while the clunk and hiss of the Lunatron production lines cast long, heavy shadows that rhythmically danced along the floors to the beat of a mechanical heart. Luna built the fortress to never sit still... A reminder to the ignorant masses that the world does not cease spinning once the sun has gone down.

Ever spinning gears, ever shifting shadows, colliding and mutating like a monochrome kaleidoscope... A million and one shades of shade painted across a canvas of conquest. Cast in any other light, Luna's chugging engine of war would be an ugly industrial monster. But, like so many drunken dates, the darkness made it look beautiful.

In the heart of this fortress, Trixie's workshop was the only room that was truly illuminated. Luna could light her hallways however she wanted, but Trixie had no time for her underlings to be stumbling around and banging their shins when they were supposed to be serving her every whim. Here, everything was illuminated in the harsh enlightenment of science.

Shining in the spotlight of the room was Trixie's latest custom creation. While they had plenty of mass-produced units being churned out every day, it was here that Trixie did her best work, fine tuning each and every Lunatron to meet the specifications of whatever crazy plan she had concocted in that particular week. Her latest half-finished colossus loomed over the henchponies below, surrounded by massive gantries that supported mechanical arms, each one dancing over the surface on a mission of wiring and welding, striving to swiftly bring the giant to completion.

Compared to the brute force of her previous models, this Lunatron was almost elegant in shape, resembling a rather lithe and graceful unicorn mare than the stomping stallions of weeks past. It's polished surface was split with a nexus of white lines, conduits of Moonrock alloy that would focus and channel magical energy into the spiraling ivory horn protruding from it's elegant silver face.

Silver hadn't been the first choice of color, however. Perhaps one could find it in themselves to overlook the machine's resemblance to it's creator as it stood right now, but when her Highness discovered that Trixie had been intending to paint it a particular shade of blue, Luna had decided to veto that particular narcissism before it got off the ground.

They wern’t called Trixie-trons, after all.

Although this latest face of Luna's campaign would surely strike fear into the hearts of a great many innocent ponies, even they, were they here to witness it's birth, would be forced to admit that this Lunatron was truly an inspiration of equine engineering. But while this marvel of magic and technology was being constructed, two little ponies were sitting on the sidelines, glumly holding their heads in their hooves and kicking at the ground.

Snips and Snails had been put into a time out.

Unable to sit still any longer, Snips squealed in frustration as he threw his stubby hooves in the air.

"This is ridiculous! We're the GnPT's number one assistants! We should be helping build her latest magnificent creation! Not sitting in the naughty corner like a couple of foals!"

Snails blinked slowly, his mouth opening in an approximation of intelligent speech.

"If we're both number one, then wouldn't that make us each nought point five of an assistant?"

Snips furrowed his massive eyebrows and looked at his friend in practiced disbelief.

"Snay-aals! Focus! We have been unjustly accused! The Great and Powerful Trixie is wasting our loyal talents by making us sit this one out! We are being punished for simply being too good at our jobs!"

"I thought it was because we crashed the last robot into a construction site and got it's head stuck in the cement."

Snips blustered, his chubby cheeks flapping in embarrassment.

"Well... That too. But mainly because we're being under appreciated! I think that we should get more respect. When she gets back, I'm going to march up to Trixie and give her a piece of my mind!"

"Are you sure? My mom says that we don't have much to spare..."

"Yeah well, we didn't become the assistants to the world's most evil scientist by listening to our moms, now did we? It was our own smartness that got us where we are right now!"

Snails tilted his head.

"... Sitting in the naughty corner?"

"What?... No! As important underlings! Now come on! We're leaving the naughty corner right now! And we're gonna tell Trixie why she needs us!"

And with that, Snips and Snails leapt to their hooves and defiantly strode from their banishment, fearlessly risking the wrath of their superiors by trotting out onto the factory floor. They made it about five feet before an explosion of light and sound knocked them flat on their rears.

The whirling crimson energy coalesced in midair, imploding non-linearly as a pony-like shape materialized in no logical order before finally collapsing to the ground with a shriek of mutilated space-time.

The Great and Powerful Trixie had returned home.

Trixie blearily opened her eyes, wincing slightly at the blurred outlines of her frequently disappointing henchponies. Snips stood back up, trying unsuccessfully to reduce his shallow breathing and frenzied heart rate.

"Ah- Great and Powerful Trixie! We were just talking about how incredibly awesome you are!"

Snails blinked.

"But I thought we were-"

At that moment, an odd muscle spasm caused Snips to accidentally trip up his partner before he could finish that sentence. The blue colt grinned wider, breaking out into a sweat that could probably be attributed to the heat of the busy construction machinery slaving away behind them.

"I must say, that was your most dynamic entry yet, it er... Really shows off your new cape!"

Trixie blinked.

"... New cape?"

Snips and Snails shrunk back, subconsciously leaning on each other for support.

"Yeah... It really makes you look... terrifying."

Trixie lifted herself to her hooves and looked over her altered ensemble. Her star spangled cape had turned a deep, pulsing red, with each solitary star burning like a supernova. The cape fluttered in an unfelt breeze, dancing and billowing around her without ever impeding her movement. Softly gasping in surprise, Trixie ran a hoof over the material, feeling it spark with energy. Trixie's mind immediately drew up a comparison to a sensation she had almost forgotten, of a day a few weeks ago when she had accidentally brushed past Luna's nebulous ethereal mane and her hoof had gone completely numb for two days. This power... This new power she felt flow through her, it was the same. She could feel it.

Ignoring the terrified colts in front of her, Trixie mused over this change with a hint of nervousitement. She hadn’t been intending to put her own horn on the line by wielding the Amulet’s unspeakable power personally, but it seemed that her hoof had been forced. And besides, now that she had that power, she wondered if even a pony as flawless as her would have been able to resist something this tantalizing for very long.

"Somehow that explosion changed more than just Trixie's clothes... Is this truly the magic of an alicorn?"

Trixie's hoof came to clasp at the gemstone that held the cape around her neck. It too had changed, appearing to be more like that gem of the amulet itself, but with only the faintest hint of it's evil. She cast her senses inward, looking for the answers she sought. The conclusion was just as she feared.

"No... It's only half of the true power..."

She narrowed her eyes in realization.

"Harpflank."

Turning back to the Lunatron being constructed behind her, Trixie cursed her luck. It was designed to draw strength from the physical artifact, and even though she now had the energy to power it, it would take months to adapt the design to draw it out from her living body instead.

"Snips. Snails."

At their master's call, the two colts grovelled before her.

"Y-Yes... Oh Great and Powerful Trixie?"

"Take some of the mass-produced Lunatrons and get Harpflank and Sweets' attention."

Her eyes flashed red for a second.

"They have something that belongs to me..."

Scene 4

Standing in the doorway of one of Ex-Tech's private labs, Bon-Bon facehooved.

"Do I need to remind you of how this isn't a good idea?"

Lyra craned her head away from the unfeasibly large circular saw inching towards her neck.

"Nah, we're okay."

In a shower of sparks, the razor sharp blade pressed down on the onyx necklace clasped around Lyra's neck. For a few seconds, there was an unholy screech of agonized metal and unbearable friction... Right up until the blunted saw snapped under the pressure. Halfway across the room, Octavia watched her life flash before her eyes as a razor shard of heated metal the size of her spinal cord embedded itself into the wall two feet away from her. Pondering the fragility of life for a second, Octavia soon accepted the cards dealt to her and sat down in her chair with no more rebuttal than a disapproving shake of the head.

Sighing, Lyra partially rolled off the 'operating table' while mournfully rubbing at the unscratched surface of the timeless talisman around her neck. Finding it unmarred, she hung her hind legs over the edge in a familiar way as she rubbed a hoof through her mane.

"Seriously? Why did the sorcerers of like, a billion years ago have to be so much better at building stuff than we do today? We've been trying to get this thing off for hours!"

Vinyl, who had been operating the saw, flipped up her safety goggles and trotted over to where Lyra was sitting.

"Untouched by diamond-tipped blades, super lasers, corrosive acid, crushing force, magical coercion and even the wrecking ball that is the Commander's backside... This thing is a beast!"

Octavia flipped through her notes with a distracted air.

"I still can't believe we actually tested that last one..."

Setting the notes back on the desk, Octavia gave Lyra a look that seemed to say. 'Why do I always have deal with the weird stuff?'

"I'm sorry Lyra, but we've tried everything. Whatever created it, this amulet seems to be functionally indestructible."

Vinyl smirked.

"And yet..."

She tapped the cracked gemstone at its heart, earning a scornful red spark for her trouble.

"... You broke it. I guess whatever mystical funky-junk gives you your powers must be somehow attuned to this sort of dark magic. Are you sure neither of your parents was actually an Eldritch demon?"

Lyra chuckled.

"It would explain a lot..."

Bon-Bon stepped out of the doorway, fully entering the lab as she shook her head.

“Well we can’t just leave that thing as it is, it destroyed four city blocks! We’re only just now getting started on relocating all the ponies it made homeless. It needs to be be removed and sealed away somewhere where Trixie can’t get to it.”

Lyra looked down at the fractured amulet, a disturbingly dark smile crossing her face.

“I dunno, BB... I think I could do a pretty good job guarding it from her...”

Bon-Bon blinked in shock.

“...Lyra?”

Lyra shook her head, a red glow fading from her eyes as she fought down a pang of fear.

“I... I mean, no! We gotta get rid of this!... And it utterly clashes with my costume anyway.”

Not at all comforted by that hasty rescinding, Bon-Bon noticed Vinyl and Tavi sharing a worried glance and called them out on it.

“Alright. What was that about?”

Octavia took a deep breath.

"We've been doing some research into it's history and... It isn't good. Pirates, tyrants, zealots, politicians, jaywalkers... Everypony who ever wore this necklace was some form of crook or monster."

She tried and failed to ignore the desperate looks on her friends faces as she continued.

"... Or rather, they became that way afterwards."

Lyra tugged at the collar irritably, feeling the dark wings digging into her neck.

"So this thing's gonna mess with my head, I kind of gathered that already! I just wanna know how to get it off!"

Vinyl rubbed the back of her neck nervously.

"Yeah... The thing is, every legend we looked into said the same thing... That only you should be able to take it off."

Lyra threw up her hooves in exasperation.

"What do you think I've been trying to do this entire time?! I wouldn't have come to you if I could just freaking take it-ARGH!"

Lyra cringed as the amulet flared in response to her anger, burning her neck with dancing sparks of vibrant red energy. Octavia bit her lip, shuffling her hooves before speaking slowly and hesitantly.

"While we were searching... We also found some other stories. Ones about what happened to other powerful artifacts that, for one reason or another... Became damaged."

She failed to meet Lyra's eyes.

"It seemed to be a trend that such deeply complex magic, once defective, became almost impossible to fix, often... Dooming the ponies affected by them."

Bon-Bon’s ears drooped as she glanced fearfully at her partner. Lyra, however, only became more stone faced at the news.

“Yeah?... Well, that isn’t going to happen to me. I’m going to get this stupid thing off even if it kills someone... Me! If it kills me! Damnit!”

She thumped a hoof to her head, trying to get her mind back on looking for a solution.

“Look, what about that cloaked zebra we saw at the ambush? Surely she has to know something about this?”

Vinyl and Tavi shared a glance.

“...We looked through our database, but the description only matches some rumours about somepony called ‘The Enchantress’. Honestly, you’d have an easier time finding a generous dragon than you would finding any concrete information on her.”

“Then I’d better get hunting.”

Lyra hopped to the floor, only to be stopped by the restraining hooves of her friends. Before Lyra could put her ‘what gives’ reaction to voice, Vinyl appeared in front of her with a nervous grin.

“We, ah, think you should sit this one out, Lyra. What with your predicament and all.”

“Sit this one out? I thought I had some kind of arcane steroids strapped round my neck! I’m stronger than ever, and you want me to sit this one out?"

She snarled, taking on a hateful glow.

"You just don’t trust me to keep it under control, do you?!”

As Lyra made to push past them, Bon-Bon diplomatically reached in and gently pinned her down with her hooves.

“Lyra, get a grip! This isn’t about trust, we just don’t know if it’s possible to control that thing in it’s current state!”

Octavia nodded.

“Yes, it’s not just about power, it’s about lack of balance. We’ve looked over the test results and it appears a large amount of the Amulet’s power has... Leaked somewhere else, leaving you with little more than It’s detrimental effects.”

Bon-Bon let Lyra go, seeing that she had calmed down enough to listen to Vinyl’s part of the explanation in a more rational temperament.

“The Alicorn Amulet is designed to focus the incredible dark magic of the gemstone into the horn of the wearer, but seeing as the stone is damaged and the power elsewhere... The amulet is focusing your superpowers into your horn instead.”

Lyra gave a blank look as she tried to contemplate the ramifications of this new change.

“So... I just have to headbutt the bad guys from now on?”

Vinyl and Octavia shared a look. Wordlessly, Octavia was chosen to be the one to break the news.

“I think she means magic, Lyra.”

Lyra tensed up.

“Magic. I have supercharged magic. Me. The pony who dropped out of magic kindergarten.”

Vinyl scratched the back of her head awkwardly.

“Yeah... I think we should probably keep you in the lab until you get the hang of controlling that power.”

“B-But the city! And Trixie! She can’t... I can’t... I have to help!”

“I agree.”

Everypony looked at Bon-Bon in shock.

“You do?”

“Lyra isn’t going to get any better just sitting here in the lab and stewing in frustration. And if she does lose control? Then I want her close to me so I can calm her down.”

Octavia frowned.

“I really think that that should be the Commander's call to make, seeing as how this situation could easily-”

Alarms blared throughout the building as Derpy’s voice yelled over the communications channels. A unique frenetic atmosphere erupted through the facility as the wailing Klaxons drove agents and staff into a frenzy of focused panic.

“All hooves to action stations! We’re getting reports of multiple Lunatrons attacking the city! Harpflank, Sweets, get out there and stop them! This is not a drill!”

Octavia deflated.

“-never mind.”

Lighting up her horn, Vinyl tossed Lyra and Bon-Bon their utility bags which they caught with practiced ease, swiftly fastening them around their waists as they dashed to the lab exit.

“Good luck, guys! Make sure you don’t succumb to the lure of darkness, it’s not as awesome as it sounds, trust me.”

“Will do!”

The two of them galloped down the corridor, seemingly leaving the heavy weight of the curse behind them. Vinyl sighed, feeling that weight hit her full force.

"We're going to have to read through all those old texts again aren't we?"

Octavia flicked her mane behind the chair as she settled down into Vinyl's workstation, shoving aside a mountain of used takeaway boxes as she logged into the computer with Vinyl's supposedly secret password.

"You are. Double check all of the notes while I head out."

Vinyl frowned as Octavia printed out a list of the books Vinyl had taken note from and hoofed it to her. Rising, Octavia prepared herself for her own mission as she meandered towards the door.

"Why, where are you going?"

"I'm going to head to the Metropony library to see if there are any obscure texts not in the database."

Vinyl huffed, settling in for another marathon cram session as she flicked through the list with little hope or enthusiasm. Finding nothing that leapt out at her, a niggling feeling caused Vinyl took a mental step back and abruptly yelp in realization.

"Hey, these are only the books that I took my notes from! Why doesn't this list show any names of the books you looked through earlier?"

Octavia shot her a smug glance as she left the room.

"Because if the answer was somewhere in my research, we would have found it by now."

Scene 5

Once Lyra and Bon-Bon had left headquarters and really cut loose, it took them less than a minute to race along the rooftop highway and into the downtown commercial district, where smoke and screams were being produced in equal quantities.

Lyra fretted out a sentence, slowing down enough so that she could be heard over the rush of the air blowing past them.

"Such a big attack, and so soon after we almost caught her?"

Bon-Bon mirrored the concern, also slowing as they shifted into high-alert, allowing their time-tested battle reflexes to take precedence over their haste.

"Maybe we didn't slow her down as much as we thought."

Biting her lip, Bon-Bon let her eyes flit over Lyra's face.

"I'm more worried about how this thing is changing your powers. I can already tell that you're slowing down... What if it removes your physical enhancements entirely?"

Lyra swallowed.

"I don't know... My arcane ineptitude was one of the biggest reasons I got into hoof-to-hoof combat in the first place. I really can't risk trying to cobble together any sort of half-flanked spells. Especially seeing as this stupid Amulet blew a huge chunk out of Metropony already... We really don't need me making any more."

"I hate to say it Lyra, (particularly as it will no doubt become a regular thing...) but you may have to."

Lyra lulled into silence, her thoughts only ending when they rounded a corner and came face to face with their targets.

Surrounded by smoking buildings, an unusually proportioned Lunatron sliced up the pavement with streams of swirling blue energy. Rather too close for comfort, a smaller, fatter Lunatron stumbled back to avoid it's legs being melted off, tripping over and collapsing onto the apartment that Lyra and Bon-Bon were standing on.

Thinking fast, Lyra and Bon-Bon leapt to safety the instant before the robotic rear-end reduced the residence to rubble. Rolling to a sliding stop on the building adjacent, they scurried back to the edge of the impact in time to see the heavyset Lunatron rise to it’s hooves and shake off the dust and debris.

“Snails! Watch where you’re pointing those things! You almost hit me!”

Further down the street, the slightly taller, skinnier Lunatron turned it’s head in confusion, firing it’s plasma beams and vaporising a small restaurant.

“... Pointing what things?”

The first Lunatron shook it’s head in exasperation.

“No, Snails! It’s the THIRD button on the left, not the fourth! Just... Here let me show you...”

Snips’ machine took a step towards it’s counterpart, instantly tripped over a bus and fell headfirst into another skyscraper.

Lyra and Bon-Bon watched, bemused as the moronic machine planted it’s hooves on the side of the building, tugging backwards in a futile attempt to free itself from the hole.

It was such a bizarre sight that Lyra briefly forgot about the almost literal noose around her neck and let out a stunned chuckle.

“Luna’s letting these guys pilot her robots... I always wondered what true desperation looked like. I guess now I know.”

Bon-Bon was no less philosophical.

"All of Trixie's meticulous planning, and these guys do just as much damage through sheer incompetence. Well, there's two of them, two of us... If you're sure you can handle this."

"What, me?"

While Bon-Bon wasn't looking, her eyes briefly flashed red.

"...They don't stand a chance."

With that, they departed, picking a target and dashing off in twin flashes of superequine colour.

For Lyra, there were many things she simply couldn't resist. One, was the call of justice. Another, the thrill of combat. The third... Was when she was presented with a blatant, gaping, golden opportunity for mischief.

The plump, wiggling, wall-sized flanks of the Snipsbot protruding from a skyscraper stockade fell into all three categories.

Lyra set her head down with a devilish grin and increased her pace, zooming along the rooftops at the incalculable speed of sheer awesome. Octavia had often disputed the claims that awesome could be a measurement of velocity, but Lyra knew that meer mathematics could never adequately explain the sorts things that she and Bon-Bon were able to do. Oddly, Octavia had agreed, and further stated that the entire concept of rationalism clearly had no claim in the sorts of things that Lyra did.

As she neared her goal, Lyra cartwheeled, flipping off the end of a building and letting her momentum fling her ballistically towards the bloated backside. At the last second, Lyra stuck her back hoof out and literally kicked the Lunatron’s butt through the building.

Lyra really loved her job.

Landing gracefully, Lyra glanced further down the street to where Bon-Bon was dodging enemy fire. The ever-inspirational Snails had unknowingly left his targeting systems on automatic, doggedly following Sweets’ every movement as she swiftly weaved a dancing pattern across the battered tarmac.

Almost as if she was waiting for the very moment her foe realised the futility of trying to keep up with her super-equine speed, Bon-Bon pounced, striking Snails’ Lunatron in the weak joint of the fetlock with a devastating punch that knocked the entire machine off balance. Utterly upended, the taller Lunatron pitched forwards, smashing head first into the weakened patch of plasma-heated road and sinking up to it’s shoulders as it punched through into the sewers beneath it.

“Hey! Who turned off the lights?!”

While Snails continued to waggle his robotic legs in the air ineffectually, Lyra turned her attention back to the smaller of the two machines. Stumbling back to his hooves, the Robo-Snips glanced back at his attacker and flailed out with a wild swing of his meaty mechanisms.

Leaping high into the air, Lyra felt the rush of air as the giant limb slashed by beneath her. She gracefully flipped in mid-spring, pointedly turning over like a slab of buttered toast re-aligning itself face-first with the ground.

Drawing her own hoof back to strike, she fell from the sky and slammed it right into the Lunatron's face, striking a vertical hammer blow containing all the passion and fury she could bring to bear.

There was a dissatisfying clang of failure as her hoof glanced off the armor plates without even a dent.

Lyra stared at the unpenetrated hull as she froze up in awkward shock.

"Ah. Well that is... Embarrassing."

Lyra lost her grip and slid off the muzzle of the metal monster as it rose to it's full height, suddenly looking a lot less ridiculous than before. Landing on her flanks, Lyra gulped as she saw some imagined glee on the blank face of the Lunatron.

"... Sweets! Could use some help here!"

Yelping, Lyra scrambled backwards, barely keeping a leap ahead as the Lunatron stomped forward, aiming it's heavy hoof steps in an attempt to squash her flat into the ground. In full retreat, she tried to levitate some explosives from her saddlebags, but instead gasped in piercing agony as her green magic was consumed by a wave of amulet-red that conducted right down though her horn and into the squishy interior of her skull.

“No...! Not even a spell so simple?! I-argh!”

With Lyra seized up in feedback, Snips saw his chance for villainous glory.

“It looks like I’m going to be the one to ‘cut’ you down to size, Harpflank!”

He reared up on his robotic hind-legs, seeking to seal the deal with the classic twin-stomp maneuver... But was prevented from doing so when Bon-Bon leapt onto the robot's back and prised open an access panel with her bare hooves. She wrinkled up her muzzle as the panicking colt flailed around, trying to dislodge her.

“Yeah... There’s no way I’m letting my partner lose to a pun like that.”

Reaching into her saddlebags, Sweets pulled out a pair of grenades. Ripping of the pins with her teeth, she tossed them into the opening and jumped clear as the machine’s innards exploded and the giant slumped to the ground in defeat.

Ignoring the puff of escape pods being jettisoned from the Lunatrons, Sweets raced over to where Lyra was shuddering in paralysis, worried by her sudden loss of powers. As Lyra regained control over her muscles, Bon-Bon offered Lyra a hoof, frowning in concern.

"Hey, are you ok?"

Lyra batted it away with a snarl.

"No, I'm not ok! My powers are useless now!”

Bon-Bon took a step back as Lyra's horn lit up with a flicker of crimson magic. She spoke slowly, trying not to provoke a reaction.

“No, they just changed, remember? You just have to use a different strategy until we can get that thing off you, alright?”

She looked at Bon-Bon in disbelief, the red tint invading on her vision.

“Didn’t you see what happened? I couldn’t control it at all! It doesn’t matter how strong my magic is if I’m too much of a blatant failure of a unicorn to summon up one measly spell to defend myself!"

Bon-Bon’s ears flattened back as she saw Lyra’s face express the one emotion most alien to it. That of self-doubt.

“Lyra, you’re making it stronger. You have to calm down.”

Lyra ignored her, clutching her head as foreign words wormed into her thoughts, the necklace gripping harder as it bit into her flesh.

“Even as a kid, I was too weak to do anything, to be anything. I was always the ‘weird one’, but really... The only reason I became such an outcast was because that was the only way I could pretend to be any kind of special at all! I can’t even get the hang of the one thing that unicorns are supposed to do!”

Bon-Bon flinched away, each hurt-filled word driving a cold knife through her heart. This wasn’t how Lyra acted. This wasn’t how Lyra thought. That... That bejeweled thing had sunk it’s hooks into her, and with every second she could see Lyra sliding further and further away.

Like Tartarus she was going to let that happen.

"Lyra... You've never needed magic for anything like this before. You've only ever needed it to convey your music, and that's something that you excel at even more than fighting crime. Now, no matter what that amulet is... Saying to you, you're not worthless, alright? Because I know different. We all do."

"But I could do so much more! Have you seen what magic can do? It can change the world, it can do anything!”

Bon-Bon scoffed.

“Yes, but it’s insanely difficult to use! You can’t call yourself a failure when you’re trying to put a harness on a force that only a few unicorns have ever even scratched the surface of! It’s so unpredictable that even trained mages hesitate to use advanced magic as anything but a last resort. Trying to use it like you suggest is an impossible dream, Lyra.”

“You don’t understand Bon-Bon... You don’t know what it’s like to have a horn.”

For a second, Bon-Bon was too offended to remember that she was supposed to be giving Lyra her support.

“Oh thanks, Princess Platinum! I suppose you want me to hand over all my food, too?”

Lyra shook her head, her amusement taking her back from the brink a little bit.

“I didn’t mean it like that, BB. I mean... I’ve known all my life that I wanted to make a difference, do something that matters, stand up and defend our way of life. And all that time, I’ve had the key to a world of infinite potential literally sitting right between my eyes and I’ve not been able to use it for any useful purpose.”

She pointed to the wrecked Lunatron, now actually struggling against the corrupting influence in her head.

“We live in an age of such advanced technology, taking shortcuts and engineering detours to fill the gaps where we can’t figure out how to use magic to do it better. We’ve come so far and so fast, and what am I doing? Still trying to save the world by punching things!”

Bon-Bon shot her a look.

“You like punching things.”

“That’s not the point. My magic is so much more powerful now, but it’s still useless if I can’t use it. I just... I felt like this was my chance. I was going to show everybody that I could be like those great unicorns that changed the world.”

Bon-Bon almost seemed genuinely confused.

"But... You already are, Lyra.”

She shuffled her hooves as Lyra flinched in shock.

“Not just all the lives that we’ve saved, but me specifically. I was an ordinary pony, I never wanted to get involved in this weekly madness... But you inspired me to be like you. To be a real hero. Like you are to me."

There was an extended moment where they just sort of looked at each other. Then Lyra blinked.

“... Seriously?”

Bon-Bon hit her playfully.

“Yes, you idiot. Now cut it out. I’m not having my partner go all ‘path of evil’ on me.”

Lyra’s honest smile chased away the darkness, letting the red energy fade from her eyes as she returned to normal. For now.

Bon-Bon let out a sigh of relief, followed by irritation.

"Do you want to explain that whole ‘not a great unicorn’ thing to me?"

Lyra hung her head slightly.

"It's nothing too bad... I guess every unicorn secretly dreams about being a legendary spellcaster. With all the ways I've tried to define myself without magic, I guess I never really confronted how much I wanted to have that sort of ability."

Bon-Bon frowned.

“In that case then this situation isn’t even applicable. Even if using this amulet could make you a powerful sorcerer, you still wouldn’t have earned that title. Using this amulet to become stronger would mean nothing. It isn’t your power to use."

Whatever Lyra was about to say was cut off by the sound of clapping. They both froze, every strand of fur standing on edge as the air charged with magical energy.

“For once, you're absolutely right, Sweets! It’s not yours at all... It's Trixie’s.”

They didn’t even have time to turn around. Harpflank and Sweets screamed as Trixie blasted them with all the power at her command.

Scene 6

Being blasted with Dark magic is a lot like having your soul microwaved. The physical effects vary from spell to spell, but the real clincher... The one thing that everypony writes home about is that incredibly nasty supernatural-torture aspect found throughout the entire magical genre. More than anything else you simply cannot ignore the state of absolute suffering brought about by the metaphysical liquid of your very spiritual essence actually boiling inside your own skin.

The particular spell being cast bore more than a passing resemblance to electricity, bringing burning fur and muscle spasms to her twin victims as it danced from horn to flesh. Trixie laughed at their agony, her new cape flowing faster in response to the magic being used in her attack.

“Harpflank and Sweets... How do you like the Greater and more Powerful Trixie?”

She sent an extra large surge coursing down the streams, causing her adversaries to drop to the ground in pain. She grinned at their screeches, peeking under the brim of her hat as her eye twitched in sadistic fury.

“Not so fun, fighting somepony with unnatural power, now is it? Not so easy, now that Trixie is as strong as she is brilliant!”

Trixie began laughing maniacally, failing to take notice of a faint glow taking shape underneath the coursing crimson energy of the pseudo-electrocution. As if redirecting a stream, the crimson lightning abruptly changed course, bypassing Lyra entirely as it flowed directly into the amulet instead. Feeling her power being drained, Trixie cut off the attack and leered at Lyra irritatedly from the corner of her eye.

That... Was not a part of her plan. But, when dealing with defective talismans, some minor hiccups are probably to be expected.

“So, even a complete failure like you can find some use for the Amulet. Well, don’t get too comfortable, it’ll be mine soon enough.”

Struggling to catch her breath, Lyra shook her head, trying to clear the visions of brutality from her mind as the corruption tried again to sneak into her thoughts. It had taken her by surprise the first time, but now that she had been reminded of what she fought for, she felt like she may yet be able to fend it off.

Seeing the amulet feed off of Trixie’s attack gave Lyra an idea of why the thing was broken in the first place. She could feel it’s hunger, it’s uncomplicated desire to be whole. She would gladly aid it if it meant that she could be rid of it’s influence, but... If the amulet wanted it’s energy back so badly, why then did the captured energy feel like it desperately wanted the exact opposite?

Holding strong against the whispers in her brain, she croaked out a loud whisper.

“Trixie... You have the rest of this thing’s energy? Please, give it back! It’s going to tear us apart until it’s fixed itself!”

“Oh, Trixie intends to reunite the halves, Harpflank. But only when the artifact is entirely in my grasp, and you worthless ‘heroes’ ground into the dust!”

Admittedly, Lyra was being a bit hopeful when she assumed that Trixie was putting up any sort of resistance to the corrupting force flowing through her. Shooting a ‘watch this’ look to Harpflank, the villainess turned back to Sweets and redoubled the magical current of her attack, forcing her to curl up in agony.

Lyra gritted her teeth in anger, letting her hoof slide up to the Amulet. It had nullified one of Trixie’s spells, so despite the pain and corruption it caused, it may still give her a chance to overcome Trixie’s new powers.

“Let her go, Trixie! It seems you can’t hurt me with this wretched thing around my neck, so just give it up now!"

Snorting in affronted rage, Trixie sealed off her spellcasting, trapping Sweets in an electrical cage as she whirled back to Lyra with the red madness in her eyes.

“You dare to place limitation on my power? Trixie is one of the most brilliant creative minds ever to live! If one method of slaying you fails, she can think of a million... and a billion more, until one of them succeeds!”

Before Lyra could get back to her hooves, Trixie reached out with her telekinesis and plucked one of the limbs from the closest defeated Lunatron. Then, when the weakened mare tried to charge at her, she swung the leg like a bus-sized baseball bat and sent Lyra flying into the side of a building.

Lyra groaned as she flopped from the Harpflank-shaped crater she had made in the side of the 'Metropony: savings and loans' head office. As her vision came back into focus, she beheld Trixie stalking towards her with more than a spoonful of glee in her gloat.

“Don’t you see, Harpflank? Trixie is at last the most powerful pony in Equestria! Not even you, at the height of your freakish superpowered strength could lay a hoof on Trixie right now. And, while that Amulet makes you weaker, when Trixie takes it, she will become stronger still!”

Lyra quickly rolled to the side to avoid a barrage of arcane bolts that blew up the pavement where she was just laying.

“Then... You wasted a trip, Trixie... The stupid Amulet won’t come off, and you’ll never get a hold of it!”

Trixie snorted, bracing herself as the robotic leg swung in arc over her head and down onto Lyra’s head. Barely jumping away again, Lyra was sent tumbling by the shockwave as the enormous hoof battered the ground behind her.

“Such a lack of imagination, Harpflank... If it won’t come off, then maybe your head will instead!”

She fired another array of bolts, kicking up a cloud of dust as they pounded into the rubble. At first it seemed like they had found their mark, but then Lyra burst from the cloud, darting past Trixie like a rabbit from a bush. Ducking another swing, she leapt through the air and grabbed Bon-Bon, using her momentum and magical resistance to pull her free from the aracne cage constricting her.

Stopping to check for injuries, Lyra was relieved to find that the torture had only rendered her unconscious from shock, with only slightly worse burns than she herself now wore. Leaping to avoid another strike from the leg, Lyra deposited Bon-Bon safely behind a barricade of rubble before darting around and charging Trixie head-on.

As she took off, she magically reached into both her and Bon-bon’s saddlebags, ignoring the ever-present sting of Dark magic clinging to her horn. Stopping just short of another strike, she cartwheeled around and used the momentum to fling their entire combined stock of explosives into Trixie’s face.

The explosion sent Lyra flying back, skidding to an undignified upside-down standstill right beside her slumbering partner. Lying head-under-hindquarters, Lyra winced at her bruises and brushed her tail out of her face as she surveyed the damage.

The smoke cleared and Trixie was still there. Apparently, a tenth-level forcefield can stand even in the face of Ex-Tech’s lauded blasting gel, a substance so volatile that ordnance using it has been known to cause noise complaints from as far away as the Crystal Empire.

Vinyl also claimed it tasted great on toast.

Lyra was almost stunned that Trixie had survived that attack. Almost, but in truth her horror primarily came from the realisation that she had launched such an assault with the expectation that she wouldn’t.

She really needed to get this amulet off.

While Lyra was having a crisis of morality, Trixie dispelled her forcefield and stifled a yawn.

“As amusing as this has been, Harpflank... Trixie has other matters to attend to. She still needs to vaporise all your pathetic friends, overthrow this fetid husk of a city, and become supreme ruler of all ponykind!”

Lyra flipped back to her hooves.

“You? Ruler? What happened to the ‘Lunar’ Empire?”

“Oh, surely you know that anything less than absolute authority simply isn’t good enough for one such as Trixie... Once Trixie has the physical amulet, she’ll be powerful enough that she won’t need to take orders from anypony!”

Lyra gritted her teeth.

“Just when I thought you couldn’t be any more of a snake, you go and turn into something like this...”

She hung her head and gave a shudder of fear.

“Just like I’m going to do...”

“Ha! Don’t flatter yourself, Harpflank. Trixie certainly wouldn’t. They always say you should dream to be the best, but even with the completed amulet, you wouldn’t be anything like the unicorn Trixie is...”

Sensing that the fight would soon be back on, Lyra grabbed Bon-Bon and hoisted her, getting ready to protect her as best she could.

“Perhaps not, and that’s a hope I’m going to hold on to as long as I can.”

“Humph. You really are a beacon of futility aren’t you? Defying me, belittling me, calling me names... In fact, what was that you called me? A snake?”

The red glow returned to her eyes again as she slammed the Lunatron limb into the ground like a posturing sumo wrestler.

“... Well, you’re right about the deadliness, but you forgot one crucial thing-”

Turning her smirk up to maximum, Trixie reached out, plucking the other three legs from the Lunatron and bringing them to float menacingly over her head.

“Snakes don’t have limbs.”

Lyra gulped.

“Oh, horsefeathers.”

Lyra jumped backwards as all four limbs collided, crashing together onto her previous location with a four-way clap that tore the air apart like a hoof-based bolt of lightning. Caught by the thunderous shockwave, Lyra and Bon-Bon tumbled backwards, crashing through the window of a ruined storefront and sprawling on the tiles as they displaced the produce from the shelves that so graciously cushioned them.

Lyra groaned in a battered daze, rolling over in an expanding puddle of spilled milk. There was no time to cry about it though, as their temporary shelter fell under heavy fire, the rhythmless percussion of Trixie’s pounding hooves instantly shaking the foundations of the whole building. Punch after punch rocked the diminutive greengrocers as the quartet of levitated limbs probed the exterior in a whirling flurry of telekinetic thwacks that persistently knocked despite the sign clearly displaying that their open hours ended ten minutes ago.

The overhead lights shot sparks as cracks shot through the ceiling, dust and plaster falling like powdered snow to coat the already ruined foodstuffs in a hastily thickening layer of unsalability. Lyra rolled onto her haunches, struggling to breathe as she felt her necklace tighten, feeding off her fear and frustration. Despite her mental fortitude, the turpitudinous talisman knew an opportunity when it saw one and began to virulently spread through her mind, assaulting her very identity.

“No... Not now! I can’t-”

She slipped on the milk, crashing jaw-first into the ground as Trixie’s bombardment continued to intensify. She covered her head against the falling debris as her eyes changed color yet again. Unable to restrain the fear and anger twisting up inside of her, Lyra felt her horn ignite with cursed red energy.

“I can’t fight like this... Can’t even run away, not as long as I have to keep protecting-”

Lyra’s blazing crimson eyes fell to look at Bon-Bon, laying partially buried under a pile of assorted fruits. There was no two ways about this, she couldn’t fight Trixie when she was this strong... and without her powers there was no way Lyra could get them both to safety.
That’s when the idea came. An idea forged in fear and uncertainty, an idea dripping in layer over layer of innermost darkness, an idea she loathed with every fibre of her being... But nonetheless, an idea undeniably hers.

For one awful, horrible second, she considered leaving Bon-Bon behind.

Then she screamed.

Collapsing completely, Lyra snaked out with her magic and yanked Bon-Bon by the leg, sliding her across the milk-stained floor to rest by her side. The crimson taint redoubled its intensity as she finally formed that damnable levitation field, wrapping it around a large magazine rack which she used to shield them from further collapsing chunks of shop.

Lyra clutched her skull in her hooves as the weight of the collapsing ceiling caused her to draw further on her reserves of magic. Every synapse of her brain burned with red fire as every passing second allowed more and more of the amulet’s influence to take root in her mind. Visions flashed before her eyes, distorting her memories and showing prospective futures... Every second was another thousand temptations, another thousand perversions... And every single one was framed by blood-tinted tendrils of the deepest malice, pulsing like conceptual veins.

Lyra cried out, clutching Bon-Bon to her chest as she tried so desperately to keep focus on what is, rather than be dragged away into what must never be.

“NO! GET OUT OF MY HEAD!”

Dark spots began to appear the corners of her vision as the mental and magical strain overwhelmed her tired consciousness, threatening to drag her away to a world of dark dreams and restless slumber. From outside, the sound of maniacal laughter cut through the thuds of pounding hooves. It melted into Lyra’s ears, sinister and disorienting as it became difficult to separate Trixie’s madness from her own.

Hunched protectively over her friend, Lyra felt tears stream down her face as she realised that keeping them protected from Trixie’s onslaught was killing her just as surely as letting go would do.

"Bon-Bon... Please wake up. I.. I don’t know what to do...”

With a resounding crash, Trixie finally brought the building down completely, bringing every wall and window to collapse inwards atop the sheltered heroes. With a final whimper of pain, Lyra let her magic go, waiting to be buried alive.

Which is why it came as a great surprise when a striped hoof grabbed her by the tail and pulled her and Bon-Bon into a hole in the ground.

Standing in the street outside, Trixie watched in amusement as her puppeted limbs bashed at the building like it was a heavily penalized pinata. As the entire structure collapsed, she let her face light up with manic glee, dropping the robotic legs to the ground as she trotted forwards to drink in the destruction.

“Finally! Harpflank and Sweets destroyed by my hooves... Or at least by hooves that I personally created, and thus are mine by ownership.”

Contemplating the difference, Trixie shrugged as she supposed that she used Lunatron legs more often than those of her own flesh-born body, and so this victory was more hers than any amount of physical combat could provide for her.

Getting back to the moment at hoof, Trixie stretched out her senses to scan at the rubble, experiencing an unholy elation when the scans came back in the strict negative for any signs of equine life.

As her grin threatened to devour her entire face, Trixie hastily glanced around to see if anypony was nearby. Obviously, the area was abandoned as soon as the first cry of 'Lunatron' had cut through the city streets, so Trixie was completely alone.

Seeing that there was nopony nearby, Trixie abandoned her haughty demeanor and danced in a little circle, leaping through the air as she giggled like a school filly.

"Yesyesyesyesyesyesyesyesyesyesyesyesyesyes-yes-yes YES! Yes-Yes-YEEEEEEES!! YEEEEES!"

Coming to a stop, Trixie looked around sheepishly before clearing her throat and turning back to the rubble.

"Ahem. Trixie supposes she should at least retrieve the bodies as proof... If only to better torment their wretched friends when she goes on to destroy M.A.R.E."

Nodding, Trixie again lit up her horn, effortlessly channeling immeasurable cosmic power to lift aside the commercial ruins as she searched for the flattened remains of her adversaries. Humming absently, Trixie dedicated a fraction of her arcane might towards improving the aesthetics of the city that would soon become hers. Without even looking, the displaced rubble was shifted into the square behind her where they reformed into a larger-than-life statue made in her image.

Satisfied with what would be the first of many improvements, Trixie returned her full attention to her task. A minute passed as Trixie combed the remains once more. Then a third time. A fourth. A fifth.

Trixie's eye twitched.

"This... Is impossible! I killed them! I killed them! Where are they? Where are they?! WHERE?!"

She began hyperventilating, red light overcoming her vision.

"Nononononononononono... They couldn't have survived. Trixie is perfect! There is no possible way she could have failed to kill two crippled foes. They must be dead."

Trixie gave a forced chuckle, her nervousness translating through her enchanted cape, making it flutter so fast it looked like the flare of a rocket engine about to undergo liftoff. Despite her self-reassurances, Trixie still felt one inescapable fear lingering inside her, heating her corrupted magic to a boil that she could scarcely contain.

"But... What if... They survived?..."

For the first time in her criminal life, Trixie felt what it was like to doubt in her own abilities. To know full well that she held all the power in the world and yet still fail in the one task that had become her entire life’s purpose to complete. No excuses, no alternatives, just failure.

A small crack appeared in her horn, splintering and spiraling down the bone as red light pulsed from the inside. Trixie gasped, clutching her head in pain as her immaculate mane fell down her face, the individual strands falling loose in stress.

"Ah... Even in death those two imbeciles are a massive headache."

She chuckled nervously, her hat slumping off-kilter over one eye as she glanced up at her damaged horn.

“No... I’ll make sure... I’ll find their little friends, their headquarters and I’ll burn it all to the ground! Then they won’t have a choice but to face me!”

Feeling her ethereal cape flow around her, Trixie turned and strode from the plaza. Dark chuckles hiccuped their way unheeded from behind gritted teeth as Trixie tried desperately to dismiss the whisper in her ears as being just the wind blowing through the deserted city streets. She stood ramrod-straight, faced ahead in denial, refusing to acknowledge the shape dancing in the corner of her eye.

Searing red light poured out from the painful fissure in her formerly impervious horn and cast horrific illusions on the ground around her. Trixie refused to acknowledge them, those hallucinogenic lies, playing tricks on her stressed-out and damnably imaginative mind.

And so Trixie ignored the ghostly silhouette following in her wake. Replacing her own shadow was one of a giant, winged mare, dancing like a serpent across the brick-strewn ground. As Trixie led them to their new destination, the spectre grinned, leering at the greater world in abject desire.

Scene 7

When she opened her eyes, Lyra was in total darkness. The clogging taste of dust clung at the back of her throat as she worriedly gasped in the stale, uncycled air. Scrambling to her hooves, she lit up her horn, wincing slightly as the amulet hungrily tightened in response.

It was impossible to tell how long she was out, but it must have been quite awhile considering that she no longer felt like she was about to lose her mind. Going without magic for so long must have forced the foreign influence to lose it's grip on her thoughts and slide back into the periphery of her consciousness.

It made sense, in a way. The amulet had no sentience of it’s own, being just a rock and some minimalistic carving... It’s intelligence was her intelligence, it’s mind was her mind, it’s desires were her desires. It was nothing more than evil turned virulent, and sharing the same head meant that it had to fall asleep when she did.

She could still feel it squatting there, painful and unavoidable, like the clingering want of a serious addiction. But for now, it bided it’s time, meaning that she could bear to once again use her horn... If only to find out where she was.

Trying to ignore the worrisome crimson tint of her light spell, Lyra glanced around, the scorching glare illuminating a perfectly cut rectangular tunnel stretching away into the distance in both directions.

The light also revealed a pony lying out cold on the hard stone floor right next to her.

“Sweets!”

Dropping by her side, Lyra checked to make sure her partner was alright. A quick examination revealed no further injuries than those perpetrated by Trixie, leaving Lyra to sigh in relief that her friend would soon recover.

“At least you’re alright... That just leaves the question of where we are, and how we got here.”

“This is one of many secret tunnels used by Luna’s workforce. They stretch all over the city, but all lead back to the source.”

Lyra whirled on the spot, shining her light under the hood of a mysterious cloaked figure. Continuing her expositional rhyme, she barely squinted at the blinding glare despite it being pointed right in her eyes.

“I brought you here, for defeat you were about to face. As strong as she has become, Trixie will not think to look for you in her own home base.”

A spark of recognition flashed over Lyra’s face.

“You! You’re that Enchantress that gave Trixie this thing in the first place!”

She grabbed the zebra by her robes and slammed her into the tunnel wall, red energy overtaking her vision as she spiked in anger.

“Don’t you realise how many ponies you put in danger?! I’m giving you one chance to get this thing off me before it makes me do something that we’re both going to regret.”

The Enchantress hardly reacted, giving Lyra a hard-lipped stare.

“Do not demand things of me, Songstress, for I do not fear your wrath... I cannot repair the trinket, but I can point you on the right path.”

Breathing heavily, Lyra let go of her ‘savior’, having only succeeded in scaring herself more than she had scared the Enchantress.

“Alright... Where then is this solution?”

Ignoring her, The Enchantress brushed herself off and began walking down the tunnel.

"... Deeper into the cave. Of course. Where else would it be?"

Biting her lip, Lyra hoisted Bon-Bon onto her back and followed her, descending deeper into the earth with every step.

About twenty minutes passed in awkward silence, the cold, damp walls of the tunnel seeming to close in whenever Lyra turned her eyes away. But despite the claustrophobic shadows that lurked in wait at the edges of her sight, Lyra was almost tempted to let the darkness consume her... As the absolute blindness that would cause seemed to be almost preferable to keeping up the light that fed the burning, choking grasp of the necklace searing into her skin.

After what felt like an eternity, their journey came to an end at a colossal door, wedged in amongst the rocky crags. The door was made of a black-painted metal that somehow carried the message of thickness and density through the exterior alone, it's dark surface only split by a single crack and emblazoned with the gleaming logo of a silver crescent moon. Lyra recognised the symbol... It was an image that she had seen time and again and was never pleased to come across.

She felt her jaw drop and turned to her traveling companion in outrage.

“This is an entrance to Luna’s stronghold! Are you crazy? Sweets is out cold and I’m out of powers, and you expect me to walk right into the lion’s den?”

“It is where you will find the answers you seek. Will you turn back just because you feel you are too weak?”

Lyra ran a hoof down her face, growling in frustration.

“Fine, fine. But this thing is sealed tight, and I don’t have the strength to bust it-”

Lyra trailed off when the Enchantress produced a pocket sized keycard etched with a lunar symbol.

“...Where did you-”

“How do you think I found these secret tunnels at all? The mare of night hardly allows me within her walls. So instead, during my deal with Trixie, I stole her master key.”

As Lyra reached out to take the card, The Enchantress slipped it back inside her robes.

“... But unfortunately for you, little pony, I never do anything for free.”

Lyra was far from satisfied at how this zebra was leading her along like this. In fact, if she was in a frame of mind to listen to what the amulet was willing her to do, she would most assuredly take the key by violent force. But, with a glance to the pony she carried on her back, she knew that she wouldn’t be able to come back from the brink if she let that voice get to her. It had already been far too close the first time, and she didn't feel like pushing her luck any further.

This Enchantress was clearly about as trustworthy as a draconic jewel trader, but with the threat of discovery by the Lunar forces, the out-of-control Trixie raging topside and the ancient sorcery threatening to consume her mind and body, she had no choice but to side with the lesser of a sackfull of evils.

“What do I have to do?”

The Enchantress reached into her robes and produced a weathered scroll, which she hoofed over for Lyra to read.

The scroll described an ancient ritual of binding contract, depicting several hoof movements, the promise of one’s own heart as sacrifice, a professed desire for flight and something about the ocular application of frosting. Allegedly, this invocation would irrevocably hold the caster to their word.

Lyra looked at the Enchantress in confusion.

“What the hay is this?”

“Simply invoke the spirit and agree, that on one day of my choosing, you will repay the debt you owe to me.”

“Exchanging one hoodo-voodoo for another... Great, just great.”

Lyra’s ears swiveled around as faint voices could be heard, emerging from back the way they came. The Enchantress heard them just as well, and her frown deepened as a result.

“Luna’s forces grow near... And if you do not choose soon, they will find you here. Whatever the consequences it is that you fear, pick your poison or else lose all you hold dear.”

Cursing her luck, Lyra let Bon-Bon slide to the ground. With no less care, she performed the ritual and incantation, her eyes clenched shut in trepidation. As the final word was spoke, a faint rumble resounded throughout the tunnel, the earth shaking in response to the arcane contract being forged. From further down the tunnel, the sound of Luna’s forces falling over themselves caused the tunnel to echo with dozens of dull impacts, muffled cries of pain and the occasional shrill scream of fright.

Satisfied with the transaction, the enchantress whipped out the keycard, sliding it into the control panel of the door with a minute click. Like a rumble of thunder, the massive metal door slid open, revealing a reinforced steel corridor containing two unconscious henchponies with their pre-prepared uniforms lying in a neatly folded pile next to them.

Fearing the arrival of the stumbling goons, Lyra quickly darted into the corridor and began hiding the sleeping ponies from sight.

“This is such a bad idea... As soon as I’m through with this deal, I’m kicking your ass, you know that, right?”

A pause.

“... Right?”

Lyra turned around, only to find that The Enchantress had completely vanished.

“Oh, come on! This is why I hate this stupid magic stuff! Why did I ever think that being a sorcerer would be cool? They’re all such- Arrggh!"

Lyra cut off as the amulet flared up in response to her anger. Hearing the Lunar henchponies drawing closer, she grabbed Bon-Bon and the two uniforms and scampered further into the secret base to hide.

Scene 8

Upon arrival at the Metropony public library, Octavia was reminded of the reasons why their city had the third lowest literacy statistics of any population center in Equestria.

The first was down to the success of Sapphire Shores' summer hit single 'Whip dat tale Gurrl' and it's crippling impact on the grammatical inclinations of the urban youth. The second was down to the struggling public school system, which had never fully recovered from the horrific textbook shortage of '38, and was even now mostly staffed by substitute teachers, working hard to provide a substitute for an actual education.

The third was that the local library was full of cats.

There were cats on the bookshelves, cats on the tables, cats in the bathroom and cats exploring under the floorboards. There were thin cats, fat cats, fluffy cats and bald cats. Dozy cats, angry cats, playful cats, cats sitting in her lap, cats pawing at her tail, cats rolling on the open pages and cats stuck between the closed ones.

In fact, it was so full of cats that if you took all of the books out from inside the building and put them on a set of weighing scales opposite from the mewling mass of the feline horde, you would have basically invented some sort of literary trebuchet primed to launch all remaining traces of the written word clean out of the city limits.

Octavia was also reminded that she was allergic to cats.

The force of her sneeze measured a full 7.2 on the Luna scale, almost knocking her clean out of her chair and scattering the closest thirty cats to go running back to their litter trays in fright.

As the building stopped vibrating from sneeze, a warbly voice called out from the end of the row and a concerned pony wobbled into view.

"Oh my... Are you ok, dearie? I haven't heard a sneeze like that since my great grandnephew Apple Slice fell into that flour storage silo!"

The local librarian was an elderly, curly-haired mare whose lungs seemed to have adapted to the point where she now needed to inhale cat hair more than she did oxygen. She was kind enough, but lack of equine contact seemed to have knocked loose more than a few wires from her head and Octavia was left wondering if perhaps the cats owned her, rather than the other way around.

Wincing at the lingering pain in her nasal passages, Octavia turned and gave her a weak smile with all the stuffy politeness she could muster.

"I'll be fine, Mrs Delicious. Just something in the air, I think."

"Well, alright, just call me if you need anything."

Octavia smiled and nodded, only stopping to gag as the two of them turned away from each other. With the librarian back to tending to her 'duties', Octavia returned to her research pile, dusting cat fur off the pages as she scanned for any relevant information about artefacts, amulets or mental magic.

It was disappointingly thin on the ground. Much like the records back at base, there was very little concrete information on the subject, instead resorting to third-hoof accounts, wild speculation and massively floral prose that amounted to leading Octavia in circles, futilely chasing her own fairy tail for hours on end.

It had been a bit of a long shot from the start, but in truth any hope of finding an in-depth reference text had gone out the window as soon as she had seen that an entire shelf had been checked out under the name of some utterly inconsiderate and undoubtedly obsessive Canterlot scholar. Considering that that amounts to roughly ten thousand squids worth of printed words, it wouldn't be that far fetched to assume that the cosmic balance of the universe had shifted all of the absent literacy in Metropony onto that one, egg-headed mare in order to make up for the slack.

With a growl of frustration and a sneeze of intolerance, Octavia slammed the final book shut, almost catching the tail of an opportunistic kitty that had come to claim the vacated table for it's own.

Stuffing her nostrils with a pair of tissues, Octavia resigned herself to failure, having found nothing of any help to Lyra in any of the well aged tomes. Picking it up in her mouth, she returned the book to it's shelf, glad at least to be free to leave this cat-infested hellhole.

As the book slid into it's slot, a ginger tabby, having hidden there from fear of loud sneezing decided to take exception to being squished against the back of the shelf and leapt onto Octavia's face in a blur of claws and fury.

The next thirty seconds of Octavia's life were filled with a lot of scratching, sneezing, screaming, hissing and being showered in dislodged books. Her torment only ended when a particularly violent sneeze finally dislodged the feline face-hugger, slumping against the shelves as the cat scurried back to it's 'momma'.

The librarian scooped up the spooked cat, scolding him lightly.

"Now Mr Squiggles! You know you're supposed to keep those claws trimmed with your scratching post before trying to greet the guests! Apologise to the nice lady!"

She held the furball out in Octavia's general direction, where it took one look at the disheveled mare before proceeding to lick itself in abject disinterest. Octavia breathed heavily, glaring out with unfocused eyes between the mussed-up strands of her normally well-brushed mane.

At that moment, Octavia vowed that with the unlimited budget of the royal government, and all of the scientific acumen she herself possessed, that she would someday find a cure for cats.

After ensuring that the demonic fuzzball had wandered off, Octavia offered to help Mrs Delicious clear up all of the books that had been knocked free in the struggle. With eight hooves, it was light work, but as the task came to a close, Octavia noticed something engraved in the wall at the back of the cat-housing shelf.

"What is that? It looks like a horseshoe... But I'm certain it wasn't there when I took these books out of here."

Trotting closer, Mrs Delicious hummed in awe.

"Ooh... Looks like you found one of the legendary literary hidey-holes! I've heard that librarians can go their whole lives without ever finding one of these!"

Octavia blinked.

"A... Hidey-hole?"

"Mmhmm. The stories say that every library in Equestria are filled with these. Whenever a pony writes a book too dangerous or precious to let fall into just anypony's hooves, they make one of these holes. They're supposed to be enchanted to only become visible to somepony who's in dire need of the information contained within. For that reason, I've sometimes heard them be called convenience holes... Though it seems mightily inconvenient for everypony else, if you ask me."

Tentatively reaching out, Octavia pressed against the symbol, retracting her hoof as a panel slid away to reveal an even older and dustier book, not yet touched by the paws of cat-kind. Pulling it out and placing it on the table, Octavia suppressed a squee at the title.

"'The origins of the Alicorn Amulet by Starswirl the Bearded'... Now that sounds a lot more promising."

Though she was filled with a strange surge of hope at the breakthrough, while flicking through the dry, cracked parchment, she felt her concern only deepen.

"The Amulet is a relic from the time of the first alicorns... Powerful and wise beings that shaped the world in the time before modern ponies came to exist. The gemstone was crafted as a... Prison?"

Octavia's eyes widened as she read on.

"A prison for the immortal spirit of one of the cruelest and most vile of their number, who, like all of the first alicorns, has had their name lost to the passage of time. From their perspective, the prison was perfect, redirecting the magic and will of the occupant into the wearer... Meaning that the inmate will be unable to even compose a single solitary thought, rendering them unable to plan an escape, or amass the magic power to do so."

Octavia flinched in horror as she contemplated what it would be like to be robbed of her very capacity for thought. Her horror lessened somewhat when she surmised that it would be a lot like turning into Vinyl. Turning back to the book, she pressed on.

"What the first Alicorns couldn't have anticipated was the effect this amulet would have on modern ponies, as we hadn't come to exist until after the unknown cataclysm that wiped out almost all of their kind. Even though the inmate is unable to directly threaten Equestria so long as her spirit remains within the amulet, the redirection of her will has decidedly negative effects on the wearer, who begins to display traits of a dark and malicious nature..."

Though the book went on at length about the mechanics and craftwork of the amulet's construction, Octavia couldn't help but be drawn back to a few particular lines with growing dread.

"'As long as her spirit remains within the amulet'..."

She groaned.

"The amulet that now lies empty. Great."

She bristled as the communicator in her bags bleeped in insistent defiance to the normal conventions of remaining quiet while in a library. Pulling it out, she cast a worried glance to the image of Derpy that appeared on the holo-stand.

"Commander, you're not going to like what I've found."

Derpy shook her head.

"I don't doubt it, but it can wait. Trixie is making a beeline right for M.A.R.E, and Lyra and Bon-Bon have dropped off the map. I need you back here to work your techno-magic and find them before she uses her new powers to fry us all to a crisp."

"Will do, Commander."

"There's a car waiting for you outside, but you're going to have to make a run for it if you want to make it on time."

Octavia slid the book and communicator into her bags as she galloped to the exit, leaving a flustered librarian and an armada of trodden-on cats in her wake.

As the library returned to a state of anarchy, a curious tomcat prowled up to a recently opened hatch in the wall. Sniffing at the entrance to the hidey-hole, he quickly detected the timeless hum of magic intertwined with the bricks.

It was an incredible secret, a sacred and untouched piece of history hidden from the world for countless years. It was a pristine slice of another era, an untainted segment of a time that will never be tangible and accessible ever again. If only the hatch could be sealed back up, future generations could look inside and stand in awe at the remaining fragile scrolls and breath the captured air that was once breathed by an icon of ponykind. An alcove like this could only be treated with the greatest of respect and care.

So of course the cat curled up inside and went to sleep.

Scene 9

Earth ponies are resilient creatures. More than any other race, they can discharge magic from their bodies by channeling it into the ground. They can do this with little permanent harm, but when that magic is as intense as what Trixie had just used on Sweets... It can take quite a while.

Bon-Bon’s eyes snapped open with a jolt as she shook off the last remaining trace of nightmarish torture energy and violently awoke. She was in some sort of a changing room, lined with lockers and benches up against dark metal walls. Her instinct kicked her to her hooves before she could even take notice of her injuries... Which were mainly burnt fur and spasmodic muscles with a scant smattering of cuts and bruises thrown in.

The buzz of adrenaline coursing through her had shifted her from the depths of comatose sleep to the heights of a caffeine rush so quickly that she wouldn't have been surprised to be suffering from the bends.

The room only contained one other occupant, which Bon-Bon immediately memorised due to the heightened senses. Unicorn mare, athletic build, slight limp suggesting recent injury... And most pressingly, dressed head-to-tail in the uniform of the Lunar Empire.

In one bound, the henchpony was pressed up against a locker, one red-clad hoof pressed into her throat. Choking for breath, the mare reached up and slid the hooded mask off, revealing a slightly-less hooded mask still on underneath.

“Bon-Bon, stop, it’s me!”

In a flash of confusion, Bon-Bon took a step back and dropped her to the ground.

“Lyra?! What’s going on? Where are we?”

Lyra flinched, motioning the tips of her hooves up and down in a subduing fashion as she checked out of the doorway for passing patrols.

“Shh! Keep quiet! We’re in Luna’s secret headquarters.”

Bon-Bon acquiesced Lyra’s request for silence, Having dug deep inside herself and struck a massive vein of dumb that left her entirely without words.

“... Lyra, why are we in Luna’s secret headquarters?”

Lyra scratched at the back of her neck, trying out various sentence fragments in the hope one of them led to a satisfactory conclusion.

"Umm... Now that’s a... You see... Well, it’s kind of-”

She slumped like a sack of flour, rubbing her hoof into her face.

“... I have no idea.”

Anticipating further protests, Lyra waved her hooves in a wish-wash ‘I don’t want to hear it’ formation.

“It’s complicated, alright? There was this Zebra, she saved our lives, kind-of-sort-of blackmailed me, led us down here and might have been trying to help us for unspecified, sinister reasons. That’s about all I know on the subject.”

Bon-Bon effortlessly slipped into her patented ‘maternal nagging’ expression as she began to chide Lyra for her stupidity.

“So we’re doing a suicide mission on the advice of a total stranger? Lyra, we don’t have time for this! Who knows what Trixie could be up to right now?”

“I know. But we don't have a chance of beating her unless I find some way to remove this Amulet! The Enchantress thought the answer might be here, and it’s the only lead we’ve got.”

“... Alright, fine. But this had better not turn out to be another one of your wild phoenix chases, or won’t be just us who has to pay the price for this...”

Lyra tossed her over the remaining costume, keeping a lookout as she slipped into the deep purples and blues of Luna’s loyal under-servants. Slipping the masks on over their masks, they slid out of the changing room and trotted off down the darkened corridors to find a crowd that they could blend into.

It was lucky, or perhaps foresight on the Zebra’s part that the stallions whose uniforms they had taken were of a slightly larger build than the two of them. This caused the outfits to fit snugly over their hero costumes and saddlebags with little trouble, though it did mean they they had the very unflattering appearance of having stuffed themselves with too many pies before they turned in for their ‘evil henchpony’ shifts.

Bon-Bon briefly considered asking one of the stallion workers if the outfit made her look fat, just to see the panic on his face as he tried to get out of answering.

Soon enough, the duo came across the main thoroughfares of the headquarters, their persistent nervousness only rising as they came across more and more populated corridors. In way, it was sort of a surreal experience, spending time amongst the rank-and-file of the enemy. There were ponies carrying supplies from place to place, dealing with paperwork, scientists doing science, interns bringing coffee, micromanagers micromanaging, engineers running maintenance, guards guarding and ponies banging their shins and swearing in the darkness.

Bon-Bon had to bite back a gasp at each new corner from how familiar it all was... If it hadn’t been for the different uniforms and unfamiliar layout, they could have just as easily been walking the halls of M.A.R.E. as the imposing fortress of shadows... or whatever they called this place.

For the first time, she saw that underneath their dark uniforms, these were just ponies like any other. She wondered who they were in their private lives, how they could hide this job from their families, friends and neighbours, and what could have happened to make them so disillusioned that they would sign up to this sort of sinister agenda.

Even so, what wasn’t so surprising was the general lack of friendship in the heart of enemy territory. Nopony bothered to talk to one another, acknowledged their presence, or stopped to see if they needed a helping hoof with their assignments. This worked out well for Lyra and Bon-Bon, as nopony bothered to question their identities or destination. Perhaps in spite of Lyra’s shrill, nonchalant whistling, they passed undetected with no indication that they didn’t actually belong there.

That said, they were completely lost.

Some rooms they entered would contain nothing but bubbling vats of pure concentrated who-knows-what, or blurred malformed figures suspended in tubes of fluorescent liquid evil. Others seemed to be sleeping quarters, kitchens or server rooms, functioning normally with nothing overly evil about them whatsoever. Most irritatingly was the penchant for grandiose entranceways, as so often the pair would make haste for a promising bulkhead, towering over them like the gates of Tartarus, only to find that they led into an underwhelming storage room, an off-duty bar, or one time even a broom closet.

At one point, Lyra had gone to great lengths to deduce what rooms the rank-and-file didn’t go into, unlocked it with her stolen key and entered, only to find a private bedroom filled with nothing but framed pictures of Trixie. Spending no time deducing who it belonged to, Lyra returned to her search, spending only minimal time to scrawl mustaches on the portraits and clog up the executive bathroom with toilet paper.

Eventually, Lyra and Bon-Bon found themselves on a gantry suspended above a cavernous smeltery forging weapons, machinery and plates of metal so large that they could barely guess as to their purpose. The hiss of steam and glow of molten metal bombarded their senses, combining with the resounding clang of the production lines churning Lunatron after Lunatron from their component parts and delivering them into the darkened hangers deeper into the lower echelons of the complex.

Sweating under the heat, and the twin layers of costumes, Bon-Bon leaned over the rail and balked at the prospect of standing up to the armada being formed right below them.

“This is insane... How can Luna keep an operation like this going? And what is she holding all this stuff back for?”

Lyra squirmed, rubbing at the bulge on her costume as she tried to hide how much her amulet was bothering her again.

“Probably for conquering Equestria. As soon as Metropony falls, these guys roll out and take everything in fire and fury.”

“Why wait? What’s so special about this city that she’d hold off until Trixie undermines it?”

Lyra seemed to think for a second.

“Well, we live here. We’re pretty special, right?”

“Somehow, I doubt that that’s the reason."

Reaching the far end of the gantry, Lyra and Bon-Bon ventured down another cavern connecting into the next adjoining room.

“We have to be getting close by now... Trixie knew all about this amulet before she tried to buy it, so logically she had to have some sort of a plan for it, which means she may have some info about it that we don’t know about.”

Bon-Bon nodded.

“We haven’t been to this part of the base yet. If the intel is here, we’re probably narrowing it down.”

The tunnel led out onto another raised gantry, this one overlooking another cavernous room lit only by the most distant of twinkles, spotlights mirroring the night’s stars. In the center of this hall was a colossal spire undercut with a winding trail of stairs, a monumental plateau adorned with an onyx throne of immeasurable opulence, and on that throne... The last pony they ever wanted to see.

Lyra and Bon-Bon hit the deck, peeking out over the lip of their raised viewpoint as they beheld their true enemy for the first time.

“Lyra, is that...?”

“Yeah... Who else could it be?"

Slipping into silence, they observed the resting Princess as she ‘debriefed’ two of her agents. Cowering like jelly metronomes, a battered up pair of unicorn colts groveled at the base of Luna’s throne. Luna glowered at the wibbling foals, her mood souring as she questioned them on their mission.

“SO, YOU SAY TRIXIE HAD HARPFLANK AND SWEETS ON THE ROPES WHEN YOU LEFT?”

“Yes, your Astronomical Princesship! We distracted them like Trixie said, and then legged it out of there when we were about to blow up."

Luna scratched at her muzzle, crushing Snips and Snails under the force of her eyeballs.

“AND WHAT OF TRIXIE? WHY HAS SHE NOT REPORTED YET? IN SUCCESS, OR IN FAILURE I WOULD HAVE EXPECTED HER TO HAVE RETURNED BY NOW.”

Snips, in fear for his every atom, felt his voice squeak up into the ultrasonic frequencies.

“She said she intended to crush all of M.A.R.E by herself... Because she's so much more powerful now and really quite intimidating, but not as much as you, not that that’s a problem of course, but it’s really quite unnerving the way you keep staring and pleasestoplookingatme...”

Calling off her rabid eyeballs, Luna tired of looking at the two imbeciles and dismissed them with a wave of her hoof. Snips disappeared in a poof of smoke, only to reappear a second later, grab Snails by the tail and yank him out of there as fast as he possibly could.

Now seemingly alone in the throne room, Luna punched her throne in fury, shattering one of the diamonds with her godly strength.

“TRIXIE... YOUR TREACHERY IS AS TRANSPARENT AS THAT OF MY WRETCHED SISTER. I KNEW I SHOULD NOT HAVE ALLOWED YOU TO PURSUE THAT THRICE-ACCURSED AMULET!”

She ground her teeth with the all the world-shattering force of tectonic plates sliding past one another.

"ONE TASTE OF DARK MAGIC AND SHE THINKS SHE CAN RULE EQUESTRIA WITHOUT ME. THE FOOL. AS IF I WOULD EVER FAIL TO NOTICE HER NEWFOUND DESIRE FOR MY THRONE."

Shaking her head, Luna rose from the aforementioned seat, bemoaning the arrogance and stupidity of her underling.

"SHE DOESN'T EVEN BEGIN TO REALISE HOW FRAGILE HER NEW POWER REALLY IS. ALL IT WOULD TAKE WOULD BE TO TOUCH THE AMULET TO HER HORN, AND ALL HER NEW POWERS WOULD DRAIN BACK TO THEIR SOURCE."

Lyra and Bon-Bon shared a look filled with mixed elation and surprise. This soon faded as the night princess suddenly turned their way and began walking down one of the gantries leading from the room. Silently, they ducked back out of sight.

"FOR ALL HER FAILINGS, TRIXIE IS A MOST FAVOURABLE SERVANT... IT WILL BE A SHAME TO DESTROY HER WHEN THIS MADNESS BRINGS HER BACK TO MY DOOR."

As Luna disappeared into the dark corridors of her fortress, Lyra and Bon-Bon considered their plans in a hushed whisper.

"Did you hear that? We can use the amulet to defeat Trixie! And then maybe it'll even be repaired enough to let me take it off!"

She almost bounced in happiness.

"We probably should have thought of this sooner. Who better to ask for advice than an alicorn repair service when you need your Alicorn Amulet fixing."

Bon-Bon shared a more cautious agreement.

"... Though this wouldn't really have been the alicorn I'd have expected to help, we do have a plan now. But how are we going to get close enough to Trixie to pull this off?"

Lyra held a hoof under her chin in thought before her face lit up with a devilish grin.

"I have an idea. Come on, I think I know what we can use to overpower her."

Silent and stealthy, they darted out of the throne room, sticking to the ever present darkness as they passed unnoticed through the churning stronghold.

Almost unnoticed, that is.

Luna looked up at the two ponies leaving their hiding spot with a slight smile on her face. Being the master of darkness herself, nopony could match her for hiding unseen, though it was only her superb hearing that had alerted her to their presence. For the first time in a millennium, Luna sighed, dropping her Royal Super-Villain voice for one small sentiment.

"Fair winds on your quest, heroes of the modern day... For while I would sooner see you slain for your interference, you are the only ones that can save Trixie from her own foolishness."

Her eyes flashed with arcane power, a snarl distorting her features.

"AND WHEN YOU NEXT DARE TO ENTER MY PRESENCE, I WILL SHOW YOU WHAT THE POWER OF A REAL ALICORN LOOKS LIKE..."

Scene 10

In Trixie’s workshop, celebration was underway. The hoard of underpaid engineers in Trixie’s abusive employ had come across a rare reason to rejoice, that being the completion of their overlord’s latest war machine at a most fortunate instance of time where she wasn’t presently there to berate them for taking so long to complete it.

Though, in her infinite wisdom, Trixie had built machines for the purpose of building machines, the machine building machines themselves still needed maintenance. The drones that had swarmed the Lunatron had needed tweaking and oiling, monitoring and repairing. The servos and hard drives being installed all needed to be checked and double checked, running tests and quality control.

There were files to defrag, screws to tighten, tubes to attach, surfaces to polish, cartridges to be blown on, splines to reticulate and history to delete... All of which had been done, dusted, spit-shined and professionally approved by the most intellectual mares and stallions in Luna’s great army.

Their hard work and dedication had brought a giant metal baby into the world, and with no Trixie around to smash it up, they had a small window of opportunity in which they could be proud of their achievement.

Job done, task complete, mission accomplished, no Trixie.

Party time.

So, temporarily free from grueling labour and heavy-hoofed discipline, the technically minded goons and sub-goons evacuated the workshop en masse, spraying themseves with champagne and jubilation as they left the completed Moonrock Lunatron on the launching pad. Gleaming in the spotlights, the shining silver giant waited almost patiently for it’s master to return and let it loose on the innocent denizens of Metropony city.

Two loud clangs echoed around the empty workshop as Lyra and Bon-Bon dropped from the upper walkways and onto the withers of the titanic machine. Creeping along the segmented silver surface, they located an entrance hatch which hastily opened at the flash of an all-access keycard.

As they entered the skull-mounted cockpit, Lyra and Bon-Bon found themselves gaping in awe at the convoluted array of buttons and levers covering every available surface. A plush star-specked pilot’s chair stood pride of place in front of the primary view screens, surrounded by numerous reflective surfaces that were angled in just such a way to behold the occupant from every available angle. In the very center of the room, an empty chamber stood silently, it’s purpose heavily hinted at through the network of Moonrock conduits that splintered off of it like neurons and led out of the cockpit to split up the surface of every inch of the Lunatron’s exterior.

It was incredibly impressive.

Ceasing her gawking, Lyra rubbed her eyes and then gawked a second time.

“Ok, I know we give Trixie a hard time, but this is pretty sweet.”

Shedding her henchpony disguise, Bon-Bon vaulted into the pilot’s chair and slid the master key into the console with a satisfying ‘click’.

“Yeah, we’re definitely seeing how the other half lives today... Bet you never expected we’d be the ones behind the wheel of a genuine Lunatron, huh Lyra?

Lyra leaned over the back of the chair, grinning like a loon as the consoles and buttons began to light up, breathing electric life into the mechanical titan. Throwing her own disguise to the floor, she watched the systems boot up with almost giddy anticipation.

“Are you kidding? This was on my bucket list from day one!”

“Shame we don’t know how to pilot one of these things... I guess her little cronies must be using an idiot-proof model because there’s no way they could get a handle on these controls.”

She hunched over a computer, keying in a familiar communications frequency as she deactivated the safety firewalls.

“... Luckily we know somepony who can make even the most complicated things seem moronic.”

The transmission connected through, dissolving from static through into the frazzled image of M.A.R.E. central command on high alert and the equally frazzled Vinyl Scratch.

“This had better be pretty freaking import- Lyra?! Bon-Bon?! Where the heck have you guys been?"

Bon-Bon chuckled.

"It's a long story, but it has an ending I'm sure you're going to love. Check where we're transmitting from."

Vinyl frowned, then Tapped her keyboard. As she logged in to the Lunatron's systems, her face slowly morphed into that of mixed confusion and glee.

"Is that... A Lunatron?"

"Yup. And we're giving it to you."

Vinyl made some sort of high-pitched squealing sound similar to a deflating kitten. Gnashing her teeth in rampant hunger, she dove head-first into the task, plundering every digital alcove of Trixie’s mainframe for precious data. As she delved through the exposed code of Trixie's hijacked systems, her heavily divergent attention flicked back to idle conversation.

"Killer timing, by the way. Octavia just found out that the amulet was actually supposed to restrain some sort of demonic ghost thing that Trixie is now piggybacking right to our door. This bucket of bolts might be just what we need to to turn the tide."

Bon-Bon frowned.

“That... Would make a lot of sense, but... If the Amulet was corrupting things because it had an evil spirit inside, then why is it still affecting Lyra after the spirit got out?”

“Beats me. Maybe it’s been channeling all that malicious intent for so long that ‘corrupt, consume, destroy’ just became integrated into a part of it’s magical programing? Heck, spells may not be alive, but they have to follow their own logic in order to pull off some of the more abstract instructions we give them. It’s prisoner’s bad influence must have just worn off on it somehow.”

Lyra subconsciously rubbed at the burns on her neck.

“Lucky me... Trapped in a prison that takes it’s life lessons from it’s worst inmate.”

“Maybe you should have thought of that before you broke it.”

She cackled, rubbing her hooves as she finished her hack, the various technical systems opening up at her hoof tips.

“And there it is, fillies and colts! This adorable little war-machine is ours for the taking!”

Lyra bounced on the frogs of her hooves.

"Ooh, can we call it a Lyratron?"

Vinyl gave her a hard look.

".... No."

"You're only saying that because you wanted to name it after yourself."

Vinyl huffed.

"That's pure speculation, and dare I say, slander. Shame on you."

Bon-Bon cut between them, cutting short their childish prattle.

“Girls, we’re in a hurry remember? Let’s get this thing moving before Luna’s forces find out we’re here.”

Conceding the point, Vinyl began activating the remaining hardware, familiarising herself with the controls as she did so. Leaning back in Trixie’s chair, Bon-Bon folded her forelegs and spoke the words of a true diplomat.

“... And besides, why can’t we name it after me, anyway?”

Lyra, leaning on the back of the chair, hovered over her.

“Because ‘Bon-Bon-Tron’ is the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”

Before any of them could further dispute the point, Vinyl paused in her tapping, drawing up technologically short as she surveyed the data feed that was pouring in from the foreign machine.

"Uh, bad news guys. It says here that this particular robot needs to be plugged into a magical power source. A big one. Without that, it’s not going to take a single step anywhere."

Bon-Bon grasped at straws.

“There must be something you can do! You’re a technical genius! Do something technical!”

“Sorry, BB. But this thing needs some serious juice to get going. Unless we have that, it’s not going to do anything for anypony.”

While Vinyl shook her head, Lyra scanned the cockpit for ideas. As it took center stage, she was immediately drawn to the mysterious chamber, occupying the space as if calling out for attention. Seeing no other machinery that could possibly be the power collector, Lyra frowned and pensively poked at the Amulet. She got a spark for her trouble, but after everything else the stupid thing had put her through, it hardly bothered her anymore.

“... Then we better give it what it needs.”

Before anything so pesky as a second thought could even think about passing through her brain, she vaulted into the power core and sealed the chamber shut behind her. A resonating humm vibrated through the metal framework as the moonrock veins pulsed into life, igniting the Lunatron’s silver surface with dancing reflections of blazing red.

“Oh, ok. Power! Lots and lots of Power! Hold on, I got this, I got this.”

As Vinyl kept the sudden power flow from overwhelming the unused circuitry, Bon-Bon turned in her seat, glancing at Lyra in shock. Pouring into the conduits, the amulet blazed with power, being pushed beyond even it’s own limits by Lyra’s reckless actions.

“Lyra, what are you doing?! You know how dangerous it is to use that thing! It almost crushed your mind the last time you tried!”

She blinked.

“-And for that matter, how are you doing that? I thought you couldn’t control this sort of magic.”

Lyra grimaced as the magic burned at her horn.

“Don’t need to control it. Once it’s in the machine, Vinyl has the reigns. She’s the brain, I’m just the beating heart.”

Bon-Bon pulled a face.

“Great, so what does that make me?”

Vinyl smirked as she inputted the keystrokes that set the enchanted colossus taking it’s first thundering steps towards freedom.

“I always thought you were the soul of the operation.”

Outside in the workshop a whole wall slid away, allowing the hijacked machine to plod slowly down a giant, darkened passage towards the Lunatron launching bay. Settling back in the decadent chair, Bon-Bon crossed her forelegs and pouted, throwing her hind legs on the console.

“So you two get to play with the Lunatron’s movement and weapons, and I’m stuck being it’s morality. I feel cheated.”

She suddenly leaped back to the window as she beheld a disheartening sight... It seemed their little act of grand theft mecha had not gone unnoticed.

“Heads up, we have company!”

Flashing lights and wailing alarms heralded the arrival of three standard-issue Lunatrons, stepping out of side passages to block their path to the exit. Moving into formation, the titanium trio locked into place, bringing all their weapons to bear on their escaping brethren.

Each one was only half the size of the Moonrock beast they were piloting, but when they were pointing that much amassed weaponry at them in such a confined space, the end result was surely not going to end well for anyone involved.

Bon-Bon fretted out a one-word warning to their long-range pilot.

“Vinyl...”

“I see them. Lyra, I’m gonna need a little more juice.”

“More?!... Gah, fine.”

Lyra growled in discomfort as she poured an absolute torrent of energy into the ravenous machine. The power flowed through the conduits, coalescing on the spiraling horn in a tornado of color. Vinyl angled the head down as the magic spewed out, drenching their opposition in a thick, focused beam of ‘no, not today thanks.’ She tilted their skull from right to left, instantly annihilating the smaller Lunatrons and flinging them out of their way.

It was such a devastating and abrupt display of overwhelming force that Bon-Bon fell out of her chair.

“Lyra... You have the power to do that?!”

“Superpony, remember? Power was never an issue... Just ability and... Grrr, endurance...”

She gasped, sweat beading on her forehead. Seeing looks of concern, she waved them off.

“No, I’m fine, alright? Just keep going. We may take big steps, but we’ve a ways to go yet.”

They nodded in agreement. Finally, they reached the exit to the Lunar base. With a flash of Trixie’s card and some of Vinyl’s magic, they stepped onto the launch pad and waited. Intruder alarms continued to ring around the complex as henchponies ran around like spooked chickens in the darkness. Unfortunate underlings, knowing that something was wrong, and yet not knowing what they could do to prevent it.

With a hiss of compressed air, the platform left it’s housing, forcing the heroic hijackers to happily bid farewell to Luna’s fortress and say hello to the greater evil that lay ahead.

With gathering speed, the launch pad lifted their new ride up and out of the base, carrying Harpflank and Sweets back to the surface, and the city in peril.

Scene 11

Upon reaching her destination, Trixie was greeted with with lasers.

It wasn’t a very neighbourly thing to do, greeting somepony with lasers. Indeed, it seems a distinct and unforgivable faux pas regardless of whether the guest arrives inconveniently or unannounced. Were this top secret anti-terrorist action response squad to be located in the highly cultural capital of Canterlot, they would be scoffed out of proper society for not extending proper hospitality to a guest, especially when said guest already holds them in low regard for prior rudeness.

In Trixie’s Equestria, she would ensure that all rude ponies be permanently discouraged from such activity.

Grimacing through the pain in her damaged horn, Trixie glowered at the unfriendly building. As soon as she had strode into sight, the mundane exterior of her adversarial base split open in several random, but supposedly tactical areas, revealing an absolute arsenal of missile launchers, sentry guns, the aforementioned lasers, a mortar cannon and a set of high-intensity plasma-emitters that Trixie swore must have been cannibalized from one of her own brilliant creations.

If she wasn’t already in horrible agony, Trixie would have been annoyed by that.

There was a weight pressing down on Trixie’s mind, strengthening with every new pulse of light from her cranial magic-maker. The dancing shadow in the corner of her eye was becoming harder for her to ignore, clawing at her legs like crimson stockings, dragging down every hoof-fall like quicksand... As if pulling her, guiding her every step down a predetermined path.

She shook her head to clear it of such delusions. The crack in her horn was a more pressing matter, as it affected her very well being. She had run some quick calculations on the rate of it’s expansion, and the worrying results had presented her with a most unfavourable schedule to work with. Though unwelcome in any circumstance, the current nature of her rapidly-approaching deadline wound up making the lasers a most irritating distraction.

Her broken horn violently vomited up a spray of molten sparks like a head-mounted firework shotgun. Stumbling away from the unwanted embers, Trixie concentrated harder, bypassing the faulty layers of the horn as she called on the irrepressible and ever-deepening reserves of power boiling inside her core.

Despite the worrisome setback, her power and control were still completely unmatched, and she successfully called up a force-field that took the first barrage of explosions and gunfire without a single, undaunted scratch.

Despite her success in fending off the ‘traditional’ ordinance, the plasma and lasers were a much greater threat, being focused intently on a single point in a futile attempt to break through her defence.

With impeccable precision, she redirected the lasers back to their source, angling the shield in such a way as to overload and destroy the intricate crystal matrices at their heart. The plasma, she reached out snatched from the very air in front of her... Making somewhat of a telekinetic bucket to pool up the super charged particles before upending it over M.A.R.E. HQ and melting off the entire front of the building.

Magically reinforced concrete reduced to a pile of sloppy nothing in 3.20 seconds. With that kind of potency, it must have been one of her models they were using. Kind of flattering, really.

Twitching in fury, she called out to the damaged building that so refused her the decency of revealing a single occupant.

“Give it a rest, you measly little peons! Trixie is your master now! Lay Harpflank and Sweets at her hooves, and Trixie will spare your pathetic lives!”

Spurning her goodwill, the agents of M.A.R.E. did not appear from their hole. They did not show their faces, they did not beg for her forgiveness, they did not give Trixie the smallest scrap of kindness, denying her the Amulet that she so desperately needed... Needed for the headache that would simply not go away!

Instead, they powered up their childish little magic generators and put up their own force field around the building. Trixie stumbled into a crouch, clutching her head as their blatant, ignorant savagery caused her demure and caring heart actual physical pain.

Or at least she thought that was what happened. It was becoming a little difficult to tell where the pain was coming from by this point.

“You... You cannot do this to Trixie! After all she has done for you!”

She couldn’t quite remember what it was that she had done for them, but she was sure it was a very moving and magnanimous sacrifice. That was the kind of wonderful pony she was, after all.

She slumped against the barrier, gasping at the spectral form grasping painfully at her barrel in sinister conquest. It hurt. Trixie hurt. Shuddering, she limply pounded on the arcane wall denying her passage.

“Trixie is Powerful! Trixie is great! Trixie is both of those things! She... She is both Great and Powerful! Your shield cannot stop... Cannot stop Trixie! Trixie will... Trixie will...”

She sobbed.

“... Please! Please, let Trixie in! Trixie needs... To destroy Harpflank and Sweets. Come out... Come out and face me!”

The force field said nothing, only showing the barest flicker of pony-shapes watching her from the other side. Trixie grit her teeth as her eyes were consumed completely in red energy.

Cowards. Wretched, mortal cowards. Disgusting half-creatures crawling across her world like bacteria. Small, fragile, incomplete things that dared to call themselves ponies. Dared to wear the image of her kind, like a mocking echo of a strangled, dying breath. Used her, overwrote her time and again year after year, body after body, suppressing her with their inane sickening thoughts and petty desires-

"Trixie..."

The crimson shadow faded back into the earth as another hoof rested against the other side of the shield. Trixie blinked as her mind cleared, bringing the pain back into focus once more. Glad to have caught her second wind, Trixie looked up at the faces standing so safe and sound behind their little force field.

She snorted, shuffling into a sitting position as she glared at the weaklings and their wretched concern-filled expressions. The deficient grey pegasus and her uptight little tech-monkey seemed to be feeling pity for Trixie, weakened as she was by their cruelty.

It turned Trixie's stomach that these sniveling foals could hide behind the coattails of their freakish saviours and yet still pretend to show care for her wellbeing. Did they also deny a starving mare her food, and then weep when she succums? Did they not know that they were aiding and sheltering the wicked souls that perpetrated all of Trixie’s anguish and suffering?

She sneered at them, already imagining the horrors that would occur once she had broken down their precious little force field and had them completely at her mercy.

"So... Come to surrender to Trixie? Admit her superiority, and Trixie promises to be merciful."

Derpy’s frown only deepened, showing a conflict of emotions over Trixie’s suffering. Octavia trotted up beside her, tapping on the shield as she tried to get through Trixie's delusions and posturing with simple concern.

"Trixie, you can't keep this up for much longer! The amulet acts as a power regulator- without it, your body cannot control the amount of magic flowing through you. At this rate, the side effects will soon become incredibly dangerous..."

Trixie rolled her eyes as if being spoken to by an idiot.

"Yes, Trixie deduced that already... Get the amulet or perish under my own unparalleled might. Speaking of, why don't you be a dear and call your little friends over for a while?"

She rolled her jaw, hissing out a bitter and resentful fact.

"Seeing as they hold my life in their hooves, it seems only fair that you let them know that I hold yours in mine."

Derpy’s eyes flicked over to the crimson spectre waiting and watching from the cover of Trixie's shadow. The spectre stared back, only growing in size as it drained more and more sanity from it's host. Tearing her gaze away, Derpy tried where Octavia had failed.

"You don't need to threaten us to get us to help you. We have no more desire to let Harpflank be corrupted than we are to let you die. We can figure out a way to save both of you-"

"-And then the meek and helpless Trixie goes to jail?"

Trixie rose from her slouch a little higher, sneering in her face.

"Sorry, but Trixie prefers it her way. The way in which she is the only survivor."

Octavia bit her lip and glanced away, perhaps communicating with her foolhardy comrades telling her to leave Trixie to her fate. She turned back one last time, pleading for some sanity.

"Trixie, please... You don't know what you're doing, that shadow is... Is..."

She gasped and backed away, fear sparking in her eyes. Beside her, the Commander splayed her wings defensively and barked orders to the agents further inside. Octavia gave Trixie one last glance before she turned and ran deeper into the complex.

"... I'm sorry. We're too late."

"What are you-"

Trixie felt a tug at her hooves and looked behind her. A great, blood-tinted figure was rising from the ground, still taking on ghostly form, but now undeniably real. The imprisoned alicorn spread her mighty wings as the shadowed legs that clung to Trixie's own snapped free from their bindings... Each one pulling away with the twang of breaking guitar strings as the entity took her first free steps upon the earth since eons before Equestria even existed.

Trixie gulped as the figure loomed over her, feeling weaker than ever as her horn split open one final time.

"I'm sorry, my Lady Luna... I've failed you..."

Then the alicorn snapped down and swallowed her, and Trixie blacked out.

Scene 12

Using a giant robot to destroy a city is fairly easy. There's a lot of city to hit, and a lot of robot to hit it with. Trying to get a giant robot through a city without destroying it is considerably more difficult, as Vinyl Scratch was quickly finding out.

Trixie had not designed her Lunatrons to move around in a hurry, favouring firepower over agility and size over stealth. As such, the loping jog through the claustrophobic city streets was a whimsical jaunt filled with a great deal of almost-misses and nearly-successful turns that left a rapidly heightening number of 'those will probably buff out' indentations on the impeding architecture.

Every traffic light was trampled, every vehicle kicked aside, every balcony sheared clean off. It was a glaring showcase of very-nearly-but-not-quite carnage that followed with every bound they took. A bread-crumb trail of barely-tolerable desecration, spreading havok like a Lyra loose in a china shop.

Bon-Bon yelped as they spun round a corner, taking a huge chunk out of a building as they did so.

"Vinyl, that was my apartment!"

"Relax, I didn't hit your floor."

"Yeah, but do you know what it’ll do to the plumbing and electricity? I’m going to have to bunk with Lyra until that gets repaired.”

“Actually, I think we hit her apartment about three minutes ago.”

“What?!”

Ignoring Lyra’s strained death-glare, Vinyl turned to greet Derpy and Octavia, the pair of whom had just galloped into the command center with nervous urgency.

“Hey Babe, what's the situation?”

She slid into view, causing Bon-Bon to flinch as the momentary distraction cost town hall half of it’s roof tiles.

“Utterly dismal. And don’t call me Babe.”

The image of the command center shook violently as an unearthly shriek rocked M.A.R.E HQ. Lights flickered on and off throughout the building as power was drained into the shield generator being tested by the spectral atrocity lurking outside. Octavia only became more worried as she turned to her own computer and began reviewing the arcane data being gathered on the sinister phenomenon that was intently focused on destroying them all.

“Lyra, Bon-Bon. The entity is close to reaching it’s full strength. It doesn’t yet have physical form, so it can’t focus it’s seemingly limitless magic into any functional spells via a horn. But... It also means that we don’t have any way to harm it.”

Bon-Bon tried to look strong, but secretly curled her tail close around her legs.

“You let us worry about that. You guys just worry about staying safe."

Vinyl chuckled.

“You need your memory checking or something? HQ is built way underground, and is blocked off by a forcefield that I made myself. It’s totally impregnable!”

The base shook again as several of the lights on the consoles began flashing in a most worrisome fashion.

“... It’s mostly impregnable.”

Before any further worrying could occur, they turned one final corner and beheld the demonic figure assaulting their nice and cozy home fortress. It was the size of four swimming pools, and held equal fluid volume. The imposing red shadow flickered and wobbled like a hologram projected on the inside of a water balloon, it's outline shifting and bubbling like molten iron that's not yet cooled in the mold.

It’s vague pony shape splattered and scrabbled across the surface of the protective dome like a cat trying to claw it's way into a food can, a frantic and frustrated ineffectual assault caused by a being that possessed all of the power to crack it's prize open, but none of the leverage to do so.

Vinyl aimed the horn of their Lunatron square at the abomination and set her trademark shades down onto her face in manic glee.

"Lyra... Light it up."

Sweat poured down Lyra's face as she acquiesced that request.

"Gladly..."

The city lit up like a nightclub as a beam of red energy shot out and sent the ghosticorn sprawling off the dome like a kitten hit with a hosepipe. The wraith flopped into a standing position, turning to the Lunatron with brutal hatred radiating out of the blobby amorphous mass that substituted for it’s face. Shrugging off the beam of energy like it were a water pistol, the alicorn spread it's ghostly wings and glided towards them like an oncoming fog.

Octavia gripped Vinyl's chair as it advanced, as silent and graceful as a murderous ballerina.

"It's no use, your new magic is too similar to it's own! You might as well try killing a tree with a light bulb!"

Lyra huffed, ignoring the whispers of the amulet burning a hole in her neck. It was just her luck that she had finally found a way to use these stupid new powers, and her first opponent was actually immune to them. Still, she hadn't come this far on powers alone and she rather wanted to remind everypony of that fact.

"That's a nice image, Octavia... But there are a heck of a lot of ways to kill something with a light bulb. Vinyl, aim lower!"

Taking a step back, the Lunatron craned down in an almost grazing position, firing a bolt that blew the road between them up into molten chunks of king-sized shrapnel that flew up in the spectre’s face. They fired again and again, forcing the spectre to halt in order to duck and dive around each individual explosion.

This only worked for a couple of seconds before the spirit got wise to their plan and flew into the air, it's indistinct wings flopping up and down like blobs in a lava lamp as it circled around their shrapnel to come in from a better angle.

Bon-Bon gripped her armrests as she followed the spirit's progress with bated breath.

"Vinyl, it's trying to flank us. Quick, use action plan Beta-Carotene!"

In a blur of spectacular key-boardery, Vinyl quickly uploaded the file for M.A.R.E's extensive combat training protocols and tangentially re-coded the instructions to serve as perfectly calculated, well timed and damage-optimised input commands for the Lunatron's basic motor circuits. The 56-tonne behemoth reared up on it's hind legs, sensors tracking the course of the incoming magical entity as it enacted a routine honed and perfected through thousands of years of martial arts legacy and technological innovation.

So, when the alicorn swooped out of the sky to try and tackle them in the side, the Lunatron spun round and punched her in the face.

The spectre's head rocked back, it's ethereal neck stretching comically as the rest of it's ectoplasmic substance hit the ground, leaving the face behind. Then, all of a sudden, the head snapped back, slingshotting right into their silver face and sending the Lunatron stumbling back into a skyscraper.

Struggling to remain seated in her chair, Bon-Bon began fretting over the info screens as Lyra prised herself off of the glass sides of the power chamber.

"Vinyl, this thing says the hull integrity of the cockpit is nearly failing... The horn-cannon is overheating... And the 'check engine' light is on."

Lyra raised a hoof from the floor.

"... The engine is fine, thanks for asking."

Vinyl cursed, trying to get the Lunatron to stand back up with her frantic tapping.

"Come on, come on... Even Trixie's workmareship should be better than this... What does it take to hurt this thing?!"

Octavia brushed her mane from her face, thinking hard for a solution.

“It’s made of pure energy, but it doesn't really exist in this dimension... In order to interact with us, it has to have some sort of a core to anchor itself to."

She gasped.

"That must be why it ‘ate' Trixie! I’m willing to bet it’s still connected to-”

The Lunatron shook as the alicorn rammed them up against the skyscraper repeatedly. A collossal hailstorm of broken glass tinkled to the road below like the demented jangling of a million wind chimes trapped in a hurricane. Vinyl tried to break free with a one-two jab of their mechanical forelegs, but the spirit oozed under the blows, ducking down and compressing it's essence like a coiled spring before releasing that potential in an upward stab, the ghostly horn extending from it's head to spear clean through the Lunatron's shoulder in a splurt of oil and gears.

Vinyl's shades fell off her face as she desperately punched at the keyboard.

"Nonononono..."

Lyra, who was growing tired of stumbling about in the sealed chamber looked over to shoot worried glance at her partner.

"What?... What's going on? Why aren't we moving?

Vinyl clutched her mane and growled.

"It's damaged the circuitry so much that I can't remote access the controls from here!"

The spectre retracted itself from it's foe, letting them slump in it's clutches. Then, entangling them in it's shadowy wings, it picked them up and threw the Lunatron clean across the battlefield to crash into the force field with a hearty clang. Lyra and Bon-Bon struggled to stand as their giant death-machine crumpled to the ground, now nothing but dead weight, it's strings utterly clipped by one well-placed strike.

Vinyl groaned and held her head in her hooves.

"It's been inside Trixie's head... It must have known where the Lunatron's weak points are and exploited them! We can't do anything now!"

While Vinyl stewed in her own failure, the alicorn floated over to it's defeated foe, eager to crack it open and devour the diminutive and deplorable souls contained inside. However, as it loomed over to strike, the Lunatron glowed brighter in it's red aura and, bracing itself against the ground, reared back and and bucked the spirit back the way it came.

Bon-Bon spluttered in shock as the Lunatron returned to battle, trading blows with the ghosticorn as Bon-Bon felt the energy in the room set her fur on end. Slowly, she swivelled around, following a terrified hunch as she heard Lyra's enraptured laughter filling the cockpit. Sure enough, her partner was now magically directing the robot's movements, eyes aflame with red as she really got into the thrill of the duel.

Bon-Bon felt her stomach drop out of it's housing as her blood chilled.

"Lyra, what are you doing?! You're letting that thing control you again!"

Lyra glanced down at her and smiled. But though her eyes still blazed with power, it was a warm smile, filled with hope.

"No, BB, I finally understand how this all works... Don't you remember what Octavia said? All of the amulet's power came from the spirit. But when I broke it, all that power was gone, leaving Trixie to absorb it into her body. Unable to fill it's normal role, the Amulet tried a different strategy to fulfil its purpose and started converting my powers into magic instead... Before using that magic against me!"

She laughed, looking triumphantly down at her neck as her puppet punched circles around the monster outside.

"You hear that, Amulet? I've figured you out! You're toothless! Trixie took all your big bad mojo away, and you've been playing with my head, trying to trick me into thinking that you hold all the power. But you don't. You may have changed the way it looks, but it's my power! My magic!"

The glow around Lyra's horn flickered and quivered, writhing about like a candle in a draft. Scrunching her face up in concentration, she focused all of her willpower into this one goal.

"... And my magic only listens to me!"

In a massive burst of power, Lyra's horn reignited like a bonfire, a blinding glare of brilliant emerald that eradicated the hateful red strands futilely clinging to her like weeds. The green energy poured out of her and into the into chamber... Flowing through the apparatus before coursing out along the Moonrock conduits and purging every last trace of crimson tint from the surface of the Lunatron.

Gazing up in wonder, Bon-Bon watched as the amulet sparked and fizzed from the grievous scar along it's surface, snapping and flailing as it's influence was forced back from Lyra's mind. With a final, silent scream, the relic was finally subdued and even it's fractured gemstone faded from ruby into emerald as it submitted to the superior force.

The wraithlike alicorn soon was forced to notice the change in dance partners, quickly realising that Lyra's greater hoof-to-hoof proficiency was a serious threat as the newly-remodelled Lunatron fought her back with a dazzling display of fluid combat moves.

They met in a clash of power versus skill, cold steel versus immaterial goop. Lyra pushed the spirit back with a barrage of stunning punches, each strike seemingly connecting with nothing but still shaking the city anyway.

For all their efforts though, they were doing no real harm to the ghosticorn, which bounced back from every blow unfazed... Much like an immortal spirit really should do if it wants to live up to its title.

It wasn’t helping that their opponent was only an approximation of a pony, an unsure memory of a real being seen once out of the corner of your eye. Lyra would aim to block a strike from a sweeping wing, only to find it dissipate on contact and a rising hoof catch her off guard from the other side. She would try to bait it into overextending itself, only to find it slide away from her counter strike without leaving a trace.

The spectre didn’t obey the rules of reality, because it was only half there. It was an noncommittal, untouchable reflection of a shadow being cast by a cloud. It was a distorted whisper, a vague description meant only to carry the gist of what a pony was supposed to be.

And, all too soon, the thing that wasn’t a thing began to turn the tide of the fight.

A ghostly hoof smashed into their chin, raking a large chunk of the Lunatron's already damaged skull clean off. Lyra and Bon-Bon struggled to stand as the cockpit rocked up and down like a bungee cord. It was only by clinging onto Trixie’s chair like a life raft that kept her from being flung out of the new gaping hole that was exposing them to the outside world.

Before they had time to recover, the alicorn latched onto their Lunatron with nebulous wings and forced the massive wall of her face in through the breach to glare hungrily upon the little ponies inside. Bon-Bon was forced to leap to the back of the room as the chair she had been starting to get attached to was bitten off and swallowed by the indefinable face intruding on their privacy.

“Lyra, watch out!”

Lyra hit the deck as the spirit swung it’s head around, smashing through the glass of the chamber with it’s translucent horn. Gathering all her strength, Bon-Bon lept to Lyra’s aid and flung herself off the back wall to throw a nose-breaking super-strength punch into the looming face of the enemy. The magical discharge of punching such an energised entity stung like an absolute swarm of jellyfish, but it was sufficient discouragement to force the alicorn spirit to lose it’s grip and release them.

Bon-Bon clutched her hoof as her mane and fur fizzled with static.

"Gah... It's like punching a storm cloud made of bug zappers..."

Lyra shot Bon-bon a look of gratitude as she got back to her hooves. Looking up, she realised that with the power core broken, that meant their Lunatron was immobilized for good this time. Severed from the big metal shell, she could feel her magic return to her body in readiness for it’s next task.

Outside, the spectral alicorn again reached for the hole, this time leading with something a bit less personal than it’s face as it’s searching hoof began to probe at the entrance. Lyra spoke with determination as something occurred to her.

"I have an idea. Now that my magic isn't tainted by evil anymore, it should be different enough from her magic to stun her for a while. Maybe long enough for you to get one good shot in."

Bon-Bon blinked.

"For me to-?"

Comprehension dawned.

"... You're crazy, you know that, right?"

Lyra smirked like only Lyra could.

"How else would I be able to prove I was thinking clearly again?"

The hoof was drawing uncomfortably close to it’s targets, who backed away from it’s search as they led it into their trap.

A glint in her eye, Lyra lowered her horn and discharged the full force of her viridian vibrance into a single, flawless bolt of righteous energy. The blast struck the hoof like a gong, vibrating it’s ethereal non-structure as it’s dark magic rejected and repulsed the opposing energy that it absolutely could not metabolise.

As soon as the spirit seized up in paranormal palpitations, Lyra leapt into action, her horn awash with magical luminosity. She and Bon-Bon locked eyes for a second as her partner grabbed her by the chest and flung her out the hole, hoof stretched as she pierced right through the reaching limb like an equine arrow. Dissipating the limb like morning mist, Bon-Bon’s aim was true, spearing Lyra right into the heart of the wraith where she disappeared with with a phantasmic splash.

It wasn’t a pleasant experience for either party.

Lyra instinctively curled into a ball as she sank into the ectoplasm of the undying ungulate being. She struggled to hold her breath against the shock, feeling like she’d performed an ill-advised belly flop into a frozen lake, only to find the lake was filled with sulphuric acid.

Being in here was almost unbearable. The ghost was nothing but hatred and cruelty made tangible, all trace of light and love having rotted away under the twin bacteria of time and madness, eating and eating until only the barest bones of a soul remained behind.

Yet despite this, the spirit seemed to shrink back from her presence... Perhaps a case of indigestion, or an allergic reaction to what she represented, the light she carried within.

Blinking in the immaterial murk, Lyra kicked off and swam deeper, each stroke feeling like syrup clinging to her limbs in resistance. Lyra glanced around as she swam, looking for a sign... Any sign.

Eventually, she saw it... A distant light, weakly glowing in the infinite darkness of this lost soul.

The light glowed brighter the nearer she got, close enough to make out the blurred outline of the battered pony it was attached to. Soon enough, she could see her all the clearer... A comatose Trixie, floating in nightmarish solitude. Trixie's battered cloak had returned to it’s lifeless purple state and her fractured horn now glowed like the sun, the protrusion having become so damaged that it appeared on the point of breaking entirely.

Lyra knew that her hunch must be correct, that that horn was where the alicorn had entered their dimension, and thus was the key to pushing her back out of it again. But as she neared Trixie’s captive form, the entire ghostscape quivered in revulsion, summoning up an opposing current that pushed the two of them further apart from one another.

Denied her prize, Lyra felt the searing gaze of the spirit bearing down on her from all sides. A gaze so old and primal, and yet unable to do anything but try and push her away. With a spark of understanding, Lyra knew then why the alicorn hadn’t destroyed her the moment she slid inside.

It was afraid.

The thing that could not be stopped even by death was afraid of her. Afraid to touch her, to crush her, to consume her.

It had seen what she had done, what she was capable of... It had seen that her spirit was one that no other spirit could hope to match. But most of all, it knew the thing she wore around her neck, and that scared it most of all.

She was this thing’s poison, and it’s only hope was to eject her before she reached the heart.

Lyra fought against the flow, trying to claw her way back to Trixie’s side. But the current was too strong, too persistent. For all her efforts, she was losing two meters with every stroke of her hooves.

Lyra snorted her last breath of air out into the ectoplasm as she realised the futility of her struggles. Even if she had her powers, she would never make it to Trixie in time. Luckily, she still had her saddlebags. And her gadgets required no muscle to use.

Lyra whipped out her grapple launcher and aimed it at the receding Trixie. Applying her strengthened telekinesis to the rope, her shot pierced the sinister miasma and tangled around Trixie’s leg, pulling her right into Lyra’s grasp.

Squinting against the blinding glow of Trixie’s unstable horn, Lyra followed Luna’s instructions, pressing the Amulet onto the source of the problem and flinching as a cacophonic can of crazy magic worms opened up right in front of her.

Waves of spiritual energy and vomit-inducing spatial distortion exploded out like pan-dimensional rats fleeing a sinking universe. The alicorn contorted in shrieking fury as it imploded back into the horn, which shot a beam of light into the Amulet as the spirit was transferred back from it’s state of pseudo-tangibility into the extra-dimensional prison from which it came.

With one final cry of unintelligible, insane sorrow the alicorn spirit vanished from this world, leaving behind only a flash of light, the faint smell of burning oranges and a concussion wave that knocked Lyra and Trixie out of the sky.

Which was inconvenient for Lyra as the psychic shockwaves caused by the banish-imprisonment had finally caused her to pass out from exhaustion.

Her last vision before blacking out was that of Bon-Bon leaping to her rescue with the biggest possible smile on her face.

Scene 13

Things returned to normal at M.A.R.E. HQ. The force field was taken down, repairs began to take place on the topside facade and highly skilled disinformation agents got to work explaining away why such a seemingly uninteresting building had a force field generator in the first place.

Lyra was taken back in for testing, and after being rushed out of the med bay with minor (for her) injuries, was then subjected to numerous other tests in the ExTech labs regarding the residual effects of the massive pseudo-spiritual-semi-inter-dimensional-big-flashy-lights event that had happened right on their doorstep.

Lyra swung her legs idly as Octavia rattled off a list of their findings with a mildly optimistic air.

"-And although we can find no trace of the entity with our sensors, given the Amulet's return to function, we can assume the spirit was imprisoned back where it came. This is likely the reason for your re-activated superpowers, as the talisman is no longer forced to defectively draw on them to function."

Lyra sighed in relief, lifting the Amulet from her chest with a gentle hoof. The gemstone had returned to it's former blood-red coloration and the gaping crack had sealed over as if it were never there to begin with. It was such a simple looking accessory that it was hard to believe that it could contain such a monster inside of it. But she supposed that might have been the point of it's creation, a reminder that there can be a monster hidden inside of anyone if you just shine the right light onto them.

Or maybe she was just giving the wretched thing too much credit.

Standing stiffly as she payed far more attention to the test results than Lyra was, Derpy pressed her scientists for the information that she had come down here specifically to hear.

"So if the Amulet is fixed, then Lyra can take it off now then."

Vinyl nodded.

"Yeah, I don't see why not."

Oh right, the whole 'only the wearer can take it off' thing. Admittedly, Lyra had forgotten about that part. Before she could say anything though, Bon-Bon interrupted her.

"Have you guys considered if maybe it would be a better idea to leave it where it is?"

"... What?"

Lyra swivelled her head to look at her as she leaned on the other end of the examination table. Bon-Bon met the confused glares of her comrades with a subtle shrug.

"It's just that Lyra's powers are back now, and the Amulet is still boosting her magic in the way it's supposed to. Normally, it would be too dangerous to let anypony wear it, but now... Lyra proved that she has the fortitude to resist it's corruption. If she kept it, she'd be twice as powerful as she was before."

She looked into Lyra's dumbfounded expression and smiled.

"'Magic can change the world', right? You were already able to manipulate an entire Lunatron, keep practicing and nothing would be impossible for you."

Vinyl set down the test results as the Commander watched with silent interest.

"...When you put it that way, it does sound kind of awesome. Heck, think of all the cool stuff we could build with you casting all hocus-pocus on our materials and equipment."

Derpy sighed and rubbed her brow with a wing.

"How about we make it your call, Lyra. If you think you can handle the responsibility of that Amulet, we can let you keep it."

Lyra gulped, looking between all her gathered friends as she reflexively clutched a hoof around the necklace. Closing her eyes, she silently made her decision before unclipping the latch and yanking it from her neck. She let out a breath she didn't know she was holding, feeling a great power drain from her body as the Amulet's lustre dimmed in deactivation.

Bon-Bon rubbed a hoof on Lyra's shoulder as she frowned in confusion.

"But Lyra... What about your dream of being one of the world's greatest spellcasters? Don't you still want that?"

Lyra bit her lip, searching for what to say.

“Hey BB... Earlier, you said that I was your hero... That I inspired you to be more.”

Bon-Bon blushed.

“Come on, Lyra... Let’s not bring that up.”

Lyra shook her head.

“No, I gotta say this. Today, you inspired me too. I couldn’t have overcome all that lame ‘inner turmoil’ stuff without you, BB. I knew that I had to stick by your side, like you stuck by mine. And that gave me the resolve to keep going.”

She smiled sheepishly.

“So, I guess I’m saying that you’re my hero too.”

Vinyl gagged a little before Octavia clobbered her with a clipboard. Everypony pretended not to notice.

Lyra hoofed the inactive necklace over to the Commander before sliding from the table and grinning.

"That means, that as long as we stick together, I don't need this Amulet to be the world-changing hero I want to be. I only need to be myself, because that's the pony who made it this far and dragged you kicking and screaming with her!"

Bon-Bon rolled her eyes.

"That's one way of putting it I guess..."

Derpy smiled in what might have been pride as she tucked away the Amulet in one of her pockets.

"I'll make sure this thing is locked away somewhere extremely secure. Good job, agents. You've done the impossible once again."

They struck up a salute.

"Any time, Commander."

As Derpy, Vinyl and Octavia trotted off to attend their own business, Vinyl could be heard muttering jovially to her coworker.

"Hey Octavia, am I your hero too?"

"I would honestly pity anypony who held you in such regard, Vinyl."

"I'm not hearing a noooo~"

As Lyra made to leave as well, she couldn't help but notice that Bon-Bon was looking incredibly pensive, and lacking in positive spirit.

"Hey, what's wrong? Everything's all cool now. Doesn't kicking the ass of a non-corporeal being older than Celestia get you just a little bit excited and thrilled to be alive?"

Bon-Bon chuckled.

“No, it was a really big victory and all. I’m just... Worried I guess...”

“Worried about what?”

Bon-Bon's ears folded back in recollected fear.

“Well, we saw Luna in the flesh for the first time today. If she had attacked us, we probably wouldn’t have made it out of her fortress alive.”

She rubbed one hoof against her foreleg awkwardly.

“It’s just that... That thing we fought today was just a ghost of an alicorn and it almost tore us all apart... Do you really think that, when we have to face the real deal, to face her... That we could win?”

Lyra scratched at her mane, thinking about what it would be like to fight something like that that actually wholly and unreservedly existed and was at the very astronomical height of it’s strength. It was almost enough to terrify her.

Instead, she clapped Bon-Bon on the shoulder and led her out of the lab.

“Yeah... Of course I do. Together, we're unstoppable."

Scene 14

Trixie slept on a bed of stars. Snuggled in between the gently curling spiral arm of a distant galaxy, she slowly tossed and turned, scattering immeasurable nebula like dust before a breeze.

She had always loved stars, even as a child. Her simple fascination had continued through all the years since, seeing her dress in astronomic attire almost every single day. Now however, she draped herself in real constellations, the limitless majesty of the universe coiling around her as it twinkled in loving embrace.

With all trace of her demanding pride having been worn away in the haze of sleep, Trixie eagerly clutched entire solar systems to her chest, hugging the universe out of instinctual need... An infantile longing for comfort that the swirling void gave back to her in galactic quantities.

Trixie could have lay there forever, immersed in a state of contentment unlike any she had experienced in as long as she could remember. But there was a spark behind her eyes, a lingering echo of the great corruption that was seeped through every bone and tendon of her fragile resting body. The twinge of hatred pierced her like a headache, eliciting a groan as Trixie regretfully prised open her eyelids and gazed uncomprehendingly at the great sea of spacedust gently coiling around her.

“Am I... Dead?”

“Niegh, fair Trixie. Though it was a battle hard-fought, you still have many more fights left in you.”

Trixie rolled slightly onto her other side, blindly following the source of the voice as her bleary eyes struggled to make out the great dark shape laid next to her. Being of incredible will and intelligence, Trixie quickly fought through the blurry haze, perceiving with genius-level deduction that she was in the personal chambers of her Lady Luna, and the Princess herself was the one watching over her. A panicked command to grovel before her shot forth from Trixie’s waking mind, but her battered body remained still, unable to heed that request. Instead, Trixie wheezed out a query.

“Why... Am I... Alive?”

Luna, who had been staring at the far wall, craned her slender neck around to grace Trixie with a motherly smile. The compassion was so foreign to Trixie’s eyes that she almost failed to notice the lack of ear-bursting volume in her monarch’s words.

“After the prisoner was sealed away once more, I spirited you from the battlefield to receive aid.”

She gestured to the swirling starlit mass of incorporeal energy that billowed around Trixie like astronomical fog.

“The divine ether of my celestial tail has been draining your body of the prisoner’s anethemic sorcery for the past three days. You were lucky that the ancient one did not consume you for much longer, or you may not have been able to recover at all.”

Trixie shook her head almost imperceptibly.

“No... I mean why haven’t you killed me? I betrayed you... Tried to claim Equestria as my own. Why have you shown me... Mercy?”

Luna brushed her face with a wing as she gave a smile of reassurance.

“Your mind was not your own, favoured servant. It was my fault for allowing you to pursue the Amulet as a power source. I knew the risk, and yet I approved your plan anyway. Were it not for the modern heroes, I would have sacrificed you needlessly to a foe even older than I.”

Trixie scowled, liquid hate springing to her eyes as she hissed.

“Harpflank and Sweets. Even with all that power, they defeat me...”

She flicked her eyes back to Luna, a desperate need glowing in the depths of her gaze.

“Please, Princess... Tell me, what are they? What are they to perform such feats of impossible comprehension? What is it that lends them their strength?”

Luna looked down, a faint cloud of her usual malice passing over her features before reverting back to gentle concern.

“Trixie, ‘tis time we told you an ancient tale... A tale of the greatest magic of all...”

As she lay paralyzed in loving embrace of the universe, Trixie listened to the words that her ruler had to say. And, as the Princess shifted the world once again into the cool and peaceful night, her eyes that had opened wide in eager wonderment slowly came to a close, until she at last slipped once more into fantastical dreams.

[ Credits roll.

NEXT WEEK ON HARPFLANK AND SWEETS:

“How can we not have anything on this guy?”

“This has to be the coolest thing you have ever built.”

“Why does it climb up walls!?”

“Trixie is growing tired of waiting for you to prove your usefulness.”

“With this, I’ll destroy all trace of the crimes that sour my name...”

TUNE IN FOR THE NEXT EXCITING EPISODE OF... HARPFLANK AND SWEETS ]

Epilogue

Deep underneath the halls of M.A.R.E, an amulet sat in a glass case. The glass case sat in a vault, and the vault was suspended above a pit of magma. Sadly, the magma had to be imported, as Metropony's own geothermal Resources had been entirely drained by the Lunar empire in their mad scheme to create an artificial volcano underneath Canterlot. Fortunately, a little creative spellcasting had kept the rock toastily molten, and blooping away with all the contentment of a cat sleeping on a radiator.

The vault was filled with toxic gas, and both it and the case were laden with hair-trigger alarms that would drop the vault into the magma at the slightest inclination that either had been forced or broken open. As a final precaution, the entirety of this sub-subchamber could only be reached by a hidden elevator that only opened when presented with two simultaneous retinal scans presented at awkwardly opposing angles and reciting a voice-print password keyed in to the Commander's vocal frequency.

In short, the vault was suicidally impregnable to the degree where it was a wonder that they didn't just drop the amulet into the magma in the first place and save on the expense.

Inside the vault, a blinding light faded into existence. Sending out arcs of crackling white energy, the light locked on to a fixed point and pulsed in incremental intensity, whipping the toxic air around in a dizzying spiral as the universe split open and deposited two unicorns to the cold metal floor.

Before the tainted green gas could flood back in, a pale white force field expanded around the intruders, trapping the breathable air they had brought with them and cutting off any outside influence. Normally, force field spells hadn't the density to keep out the minuscule free-floating particles of a gaseous substance, leaving ambitious mages to rely on atuning it to solid or liquid objects when attempting to defend. But for this unicorn, such a specialised spell was well within his abilities. He had invented it, after all.

One of the arrivals clattered up off the floor, a short and pretty mare wrapped in the torn and battered rags comprised of a thousand scraps of diseperate garments. Widening her eyes, she helped the older stallion to his hooves and worriedly glanced at the glass case.

"There it is, Sir... The Alicorn Amulet."

There was the faint jingle of bells as the wizened grey pony shuffled his robes and glared at the hated object.

"Yes, Clover. I can see it. We got my cataracts fixed the last time we traveled to the forty-seven-hundreds, remember?"

The mare huffed, ignoring her mentor as she pulled a startlingly futuristic gadget out from under her anachronistic cloak and scanned the area for further security measures.

"There's no need to get your beard in a tangle. You know how unpredictable large time-jumps can be. It's a testament to my calculations that we got within even a month of the magic surge."

The elderly stallion looked at the innocuous trinket with grim, piercing eyes. He could feel it reaching out to him, tempting him, beseeching him to use it like he had all those millennia ago. He shuddered, for even though it was but a fraction of the evil that it was keeping imprisoned inside, he would never again allow that thing to gain a hold on him.

"... And yet it seems like the power surge you detected has already been contained. I was a fool to leave it unattended in the timeline. I thought that keeping the alicorn imprisoned would be more important than the minor evils committed under the amulet's influence."

He sighed.

"But that only worked as long she lacked the ability to think. Now that she's spent some time outside of her prison, she will have placed a whole host of contingency plans in place to ensure her full escape. I think we need to try a more permanent solution."

Frowning in solemn concentration, his horn lit up in the same pale white as his beard. An unearthly aura lit up around the case and with a haunting, unliving scream the amulet was ejected from the universe, banished to the void outside of time and space. The case, which was only designed to alert if the glass was broken, remained untouched despite failing to protect it’s occupant.

“It is done.”

Jingle-jangling his head back to his apprentice, the bearded wizard steadied himself against the force field as he felt the draining effects of such an unnatural banishment spell. With steely eyes, he watched the play of emotions on his assistant’s face as she checked the temporal readings on her fancy scanning device. The faintest trace of hope... That suddenly gave way to worry, and then attempted to be hidden behind a facade of disinterest. Narrowing his eyes, he spoke.

“Well? Don’t leave me in the dark, girl.”

Clover flinched ever so slightly before attempting to return the device to her cloak.

“The... Anomalies have cleared up. I was right, it was just glitches in the equipment caused by the surge-”

The device was yanked from her grip and floated over to the stallion.

“Like Tartarus they have... You think you can pull one over on your old mentor? There’s something strange going on in this time period, and I can smell their involvement in the whole thing!”

Clover folded her ears back as she tried to appeal to the great wisdom that he himself had passed on to her.

“Please, Sir... You know I respect you more than any other pony I have ever met, but this line of research... It just goes too far.”

He went silent for a moment, stroking his beard as he looked over the readings.

“... I know. But it is my life’s mission to understand and document every form of magic that exists. It is a quest that has taken me beyond the reaches of time, and alive long past my destined departure from this world.”

He hung his head.

“I have come too far to turn back now.”

Clover looked over at the case, still teeming with the foul taint of corruptive magic even after the forced un-being that had had been cast on it’s source.

“A long time ago, you just had to understand that amulet, too. And it almost destroyed you.”

“Yes, it did. But despite it’s efforts, I learned all of it’s secrets... And now I have destroyed it. My quest is almost at an end. There is but one magic that eludes me, and I think-”

He squinted his eyes at the image that appeared on the temporal scanner that floated in front of him. Two mares in costume, one clad in red, the other in blue... Standing around with their friends, chatting and laughing after a battle well-fought.

“... We may have found the missing link I’ve been looking for.”

Coming soon: Episode 11 - Heart of Winter!

Episode 32: The Drop of a Hat

HARPFLANK AND SWEETS

Created by Arcainum
Written by Supersheep64

Opening Titles

HARPFLANK AND SWEETS: EPISODE 32- THE DROP OF A HAT

Scene 1

For once, Metropony was quiet.

There were no gangs rioting in the streets, there were no alarms wailing in the distance, no thefts, muggings or natural disasters... There wasn’t even the dull metallic thuds of Lunatron hoofsteps to disrupt the night air. The city, normally Equestria’s leading exporter of imminent disaster, now rested peacefully... Much like an angry drunk that had accidentally slipped and knocked themselves unconscious.

Along one empty street, the distinctive sound of two ponies trotting echoed off of the sleeping buildings as they made their way back home. Her harp case slung over her withers, Lyra was returning from another in a long line of successful concerts as the current headliner of the Metropony cultural theatre. Although normally focusing on professional theatre productions or major events such as Metrpony’s Hearth's Warming Eve pagent, the theatre had been known to play host to smaller groups and solo acts. Octavia had performed there, as had the Ponytones, the Illusions and even Trixie, back before she became the mare they knew today.

In all, it was a pretty sweet gig and Lyra owed everything to her manager for setting it up for her. Yet it was that same manager that was the source of her current worries.

Lyra glanced askance at Bon-Bon, observing the listless way she held herself, the slight sigh on every other breath, the way her hooves scuffed at the pavement as they walked. From the day they had first met, Bon-Bon had never once missed one of Lyra’s performances, sitting front row as her eyes sparkled with the same awe and wonder as they had since she had first heard her play.

But tonight, when Lyra had looked out into the audience, Bon-Bon hadn’t been there. She had been at the back, standing by the doors, and her eyes were so unfocused and distant that Lyra suspected that she hadn’t been listening at all.

Bon-Bon’s eyes had the same look right now, too.

“Hey, BB?”

Bon-Bon only barely lifted her head as she gave Lyra her attention.

“Hmmm?”

“Do you think it was a good night?”

“Yeah. As good as ever.”

Lyra tilted her head, her eyes darting over Bon-Bon’s face in a twitchy search pattern as her voice lilted into an expectant upwards inflection.

“But it could be better?”

“Sure.”

Lyra huffed, blowing a strand of mane from her eyes.

“Maybe good enough to perform at Princess Celestia’s drunken shotgun wedding to a plate of salted alfalfa soup next week?”

Bon-Bon ground a hoof into her forehead.

“Grahh, Lyra...”

“Oh so you are listening.”

“I just... Don’t want to talk right now.”

Lyra gave her the look of a pony who did not believe that the other pony was in fact, being serious.

“BB, your apartment is in the other direction. If you didn’t want to talk, then why are you walking me home?”

Bon-Bon glared, a faint twitch of pain crossing her face.

“You know why.”

She sighed, letting her face drop back into sadness.

“I just wanted to make sure you got back safely.”

Lyra looked away for a second, remembering the week-old feel of Bon-Bon crying into her coat. Since then, Bon-Bon had hardly left her side. Not normally a bad thing, but this... It wasn’t the same as before. It was sad... Sad and very uncomfortable.

“Bon-Bon, nothing is going to attack me on my way back to my apartment. At least, nothing I can’t handle. My near-death was just a one-time thing, I’m totally over that phase of my life.”

Bon-Bon rolled back her ears, her eyebrows making a fixed line and her face twitching with barely restrained emotion.

“You know that lunatic Surprise is still out there. I’ve searched for her every day since the zoo gassing, but I just can’t find her. She’s out there, planning something and I can’t do anything about it. We know she knows way too much about M.A.R.E. as it is... heck, she even found Derpy’s house! What makes you think she can’t have found yours? That she isn’t there waiting with some sinister-”

Lyra plugged the flow with a hoof to her mouth.

“Look BB, little miss ‘I’m so unpredictable’ isn’t going to do anything so straightforward as to ambush me while I’m in the shower. All we’ve seen so far suggests that she’ll want to go big and flashy and way way out of left field. You’re not going to be able to outsmart her if you expect she’s going to behave like a rational criminal would.”

Lyra moved the hoof from her mouth to her shoulder.

“Go home, get some rest. I’ll be fine.”

Bon-bon took a step back, letting Lyra’s hoof slide away.

“Alright. I suppose that at least with Trixie behind bars, we’re safer than we’ve been in a long while.”

Lyra tensed up, gritting her teeth but trying not to let it show on her face. Bon-Bon slowly turned and walked back the way she came.

“See you tomorrow Lyra.”

As Bon-Bon walked away, Lyra let herself relax, silently hating her involuntary reaction. Her apartment wasn’t far now so as she trotted off, she turned a corner onto her home street and became lost in thought.

If anything, Lyra had thought that the long overdue defeat of Trixie would have brought some sense of closure and satisfaction. But the fact that she had not been responsible, that the arrest had occurred while she had been occupied comforting Bon-Bon, that it had happened so easily...

Lyra bit back a curse. Magically fumbling for her keys, she trotted up the front stairs of her apartment building only to pause and lean against the railing in shame.

Lyra knew her duty. She needed to find a way to apologise for what had happened on Bon-Bon’s birthday, to find a way to blow away all of BB’s worries and fears and mend the damage to their friendship. Yet despite her priorities, whenever the subject came up, she found herself consumed by her irrational jealousy of Maredowell and her successes.

In the paper every day, there were reports of heroic deeds and remarkable feats performed by the mysterious masked mare. It hurt to know that Maredowell has accomplished things that she couldn’t, that she had effortlessly taken the public adoration that Lyra had long desired and most of all, it hurt that she had accomplished this all alone.

That was what really made Lyra sick to her stomach. The fact that one Maredowell could match up to all the hard work of Harpflank and Sweets. That at best Lyra added up to half the hero she was... And that it made her hate herself for wishing that she had been able to make it this far without any of the friends who had supported her.

The fact that she was supposed to be stepping up to the plate and helping her friend get through her issues, and yet she was there thinking about how much she wanted to have not had her fighting alongside her at all?

Lyra rubbed her hoof into her horn in an attempt to ease the pain.

“Oh Celestia, I feel like dirt...”

Though as much as Lyra knew that her jealousy was the biggest dumb loser dumbness in all of the feelings ever to be dumb and useless, that still didn’t mean that her other feelings towards Maredowell were any less valid. She knew that creep was not what she seemed. She knew that there had to be some sinister explanation for the electrifying, spine-grinding, agonising sensation she got every time Maredowell was near. That inherently wrong and vile and unnatural rush of anti-endorphins tingling down her spine and splitting her brain open as her horn recoiled into her skull-

Lyra’s eyes snapped open as she stopped her hooves from painfully rubbing into her screaming forehead.

That sensation much like the one she was experiencing right now.

Lyra actually dropped her precious harp case to the ground as she spun in place, craning her neck up to the third-story rooftop across the street. Lurking, Maredowell looked back at her. She realised she had been spotted and rose to her full height, tilting her head in unmistakable curiosity as the yellowed glow of the flickering streetlights cast contorted, swirling reflections in the mirrored lenses over her eyes.

Too shocked to move, Lyra just gaped up in horror.

“...You?!”

Crouching down, Maredowell turned and hopped off the far side of the roof. There was a flash of light and, with an audible flap of wings, her blurred shadow retreated across the skyline and vanished in less than a second.

Falling to her haunches, Lyra scrabbled for her harp case and held it to her chest, wondering if perhaps Bon-Bon’s paranoia wasn’t so misplaced after all. Working moisture back into her mouth she could only whisper out one sentence.

“She knows who I am.”

Scene 2

Sitting in her office, the Commander tightened her lips and tried her very very best to listen to the dull and exceedingly technical presentation playing out solely for her approval. Although Octavia was surely the best and the brightest that they had, (beating out Vinyl by several degrees and doctorates in the exceptionally rare field of common sense) the fact that Derpy’s imagination was conjuring up tactile sensations of the discussed topics actually flying over her head went a long way towards explaining why Ex-tech’s safety briefings very rarely succeeded in reducing the number of accidents in the workplace.

With the faint light of concentration slowly fading from her eyes, Derpy rested her chin on her hoof and struggled to keep up with the string of technical data and statistics presented to her by Ex-tech’s head of programming. Raising her other hoof, she interrupted the report with an exhausted lack of patience.

“Octavia, could you please just boil this down to an ETA? I’ve got another meeting after this, and the first thing she’s gonna say is ‘How many times have I told you to never to make me wait for you?’”

Octavia sniffed, snapping shut the tiny laptop she was using to present her data.

“Very well. The Nanosuits have been repaired of all systemic damage, but it will take several more hours to properly finish debugging their neural interface and impulse response routines. There’s some bizarre code anomalies that are hampering their processing and causing severe errors. Until I find the source of these problems, I can’t clear the suits for field use.”

She swallowed, looking slightly off to the side.

“Re-issuing them now could compromise the safety of our agents.”

Derpy sighed, but nodded.

“Understood. I’m, sure I don’t need to tell you how vital it is you resolve these issues quickly.”

“No, Commander.”

“Good. You’re dismissed.”

Octavia gathered up her saddlebags and slipped her laptop inside. Turning to leave, she grabbed a steaming coffee cup from where she had left it on the Commander’s desk and wearily trotted from her office.

Left alone, Derpy ground a hoof into her temple and sighed for the thirtieth time since breakfast. Turning her attention to the holographic system built into her desk, she inputted the encrypted passcode needed to contact the EDA’s magically-shielded external communications system. In a blink of blue-tinged light the holographic display activated, revealing the glowering face of a pony who, judging by the complete lack of hesitation or reaction, had been intentionally glaring at her office’s communication camera for some time in anticipation of her call.

Director Harshwhinny opened her mouth and spoke with mingled irritation and disgust.

“Commander Hooves, how many times have I told you to never to make me wait for you?”

Derpy sighed for the thirty-first time.

“Apologies, Director. My previous meeting overran.”

Ever since receiving the go-ahead to begin the creation of M.A.R.E. a few years ago, Derpy had been in regular correspondence with Harshwhinny, as the mare had been assigned the task of acting as a liaison between M.A.R.E. and the Equestrian Defence Agency, which in turn, answered directly to the Crown. Now, even though she had been quite heavily promoted, thanks in no small part to M.A.R.E's success, she still insisted on Derpy reporting directly to her... and also still insisted on generally treating her like dirt.

"I'm going to skip the part where I ask you about your progress in routing the Lunar Empire, because we both know that as usual, there has been no progress."

Harshwhinny seemed to be chewing on the inside of her cheek in thought, an act that made her face even more unwelcoming.

“Instead, tell me about this new super-pony that has been doing your job for you. I understand she rebuked your offer of employment?"

She somehow found a way to make her voice even more dour and snarky than it already was.

"Understandable, seeing as one of your agents assaulted her last week.”

Derpy tilted her head and set her hooves back on the desk.

“An unavoidable confrontation, unfortunately. As for information on her, I sent you most of what we know about her in our initial report.”

Harshwhinny's holographic eyes gained a glint of derision.

“If that postcard I received was supposed to be a report, then I may have to accelerate my plans for firing you, Hooves.”

“Yes, it was small, and that is because we know almost nothing. In fact, when she first appeared I expected that the EDA would have more intel on her than we do, so I sent in a request for all files relating to Maredowell from your head office... And your servers came up with absolutely zero results.”

Harshwhinny rolled her eyes with exaggerated boredom.

“How is this relevant, exactly?”

Derpy slammed her hooves on her desk.

“It’s relevant because even if you really did have no information on Maredowell, the same report that I sent you should have still shown up in the search! The only reason my request would have been met with absolutely no feedback is if you had classified that information above my access level!”

The Director fixed her with a cool gaze.

“Commander Hooves, your organization has one and only one mission that we are paying you to do. You are to combat and predict the actions of the terrorist group known as the Lunar Imperials, to facilitate the arrest or incapacitation of their leaders and to protect and uphold the law of your host city. Anything outside of that mission, be it information or objectives is only your business if I tell you it is! Do I make myself absolutely one-hundred percent crystal clear?!”

Derpy held up a flawless poker face as she answered.

“Yes, Director.”

“That’s what I thought. Now coincidentally, I do have a new objective for you to concern yourself with. Maredowell has clearly refused to operate with your organisation, and that makes her dangerous.”

She waved a hoof in the air.

“As you know, Metropony loves its superheroes, but isn’t quite aware that the city only tolerates their presence so long as they secretly follow orders. A masked vigilante not under M.A.R.E’s command is nothing more than a criminal, and one with those ghastly ‘superpowers’ is a huge unaccountable liability. Send out your agents and capture her before she does something to bring this whole ‘costumed hero’ nonsense crashing down on us, and before she embarasses your sorry little group even further.”

She did something that might have been a sneer if her lips had possessed the capability to turn upwards.

“Surely that can’t be too hard, Hooves. Wow me.”

With that, the Director cut the communication. Derpy pursed her lips, barely lowering her eyebrows into a not-quite frown as her eyes drifted off to pursue alternative avenues of thought from one another. She leaned back in her chair, still thinking right up until she heard a knock on her office door.

“Come in.”

Quietly, Nurse Redheart trotted into the room, still wearing a pouch filled with various medical equipment. Though Derpy had asked her to come well in advance, the medical bay had been busy that day and she had still needed to rush over in the last minute to make the appointment.

Crossing her hooves, Derpy refocused her eyes and cleared her throat.

“Thank you for coming, Redheart. I’m loathe to break you off from your work, but I have a mission for you.”

Wordlessly, Redheart reached into her pouch and pulled out a bandage and syringe, an unspoken question being delivered in the tiny squirt of liquid from the needle’s tip.

Derpy let a small smile cross her face as she shook her head.

“No, it involves your other set of skills.”

Returning her equipment to her pouch, Redheart smiled with her.

Scene 3

Lyra sat in the M.A.R.E. mess hall and played with her food. The mixed salad went along with her games, perhaps sensing that this was simply distraction and that Lyra in actuality had no real interest in eating whatsoever.

Poking at the assorted leaves, Lyra let her mind ponder over the troubling events of the night before.

‘How often has she been following me? What is she going to do now that she knows who I am? Why do I get that painfully unnatural feeling whenever she’s around me?'

Lyra rested her head on the table and sighed. She’d had no trouble sleeping through the last ten hours in a haze of dreamless self-torment, but to call such a thing ‘rest’ would be insulting to the entire concept of relaxation. Now morning had come, and with it, a fast that she felt no obligations about breaking. Her hunger, like her sleep, was something unsatisfiable, and the pretense of eating was more a method of procrastination than of any genuine nourishment.

‘Who do I talk to about this? I’ve gotta tell somepony, right? Would they even believe me?’

Lyra glanced over at today’s headline on the back of a newspaper being read by an agent seated at the table across from her.

MAYOR ISSUES FORMAL REQUEST FOR MAREDOWELL TO ASSIST SECURITY FOR UPCOMING TRIAL OF GREAT AND POWERFUL TRIXIE

Rolling her eyes, Lyra returned to her salad, bemoaning that it was the only thing in her world that still made any sense.

‘All of Metropony thinks Maredowell is the greatest thing since the Chimmycherrychonga... And everypony at M.A.R.E. Would just pass it off as me being jealous and trying to destroy her credibility!'

She bit her lip, rubbing at her chin as she ran through her options.

'I could try telling the Commander, but she keeps insisting on trying to make Maredowell into one of our agents. Oh Celestia... Imagine if she agrees! I’d have to work with her!’

Lyra groaned and put her head in her hooves.

‘This would be so much easier if I could just talk to BB about this. But how we’ve been recently...’

It’s no secret that Lyra wasn't a well-grounded pony. She often did things that were daft, or borderline suicidal... Socially, or otherwise. She needed Bon-Bon to tell her how to act and what to do, a guiding light to lead her in situations when simply being herself only made things worse.

But this time her dependence had now left Lyra adrift. Now that Bon-Bon was the one who had been hurt by Lyra ‘being herself’, Lyra’s only guide on being a normal pony had been cut off. Even though she very much wanted to be given some sort of clue how to make things right, Lyra didn’t much fancy her chances of Bon-Bon being in the mood to give advice on how to fix their friendship to the same pony who had broken it in the first place.

‘Even if she wasn’t still mad at me, I still couldn’t go to Bon-Bon now... not when she’s already worrying about me. Telling her I’m being stalked will just make the whole thing worse! I mean, it’s not like I’m actually in danger right? Maredowell wouldn’t have saved my life if she wanted to hurt me... unless this some sort of creepy love thing.’

Lyra shivered in repulsion.

'Please, please, PLEASE don’t be some sort of creepy love thing.’

Trying to banish that thought from her mind, Lyra forced herself to decide on a plan of action. Like most of her plans, it would most likely be terrible, but at the very least would manage to be decisively terrible.

‘If I can’t talk with Bon-Bon because she’s still worried about, and mad at me... Then I’ll just have to fix our friendship first! I’ll find a way to properly apologise, prove to her that she’s still important to me while easing all her fears about me being in constant danger and conclusively show that she has no reason to worry about me. THEN I can tell her all about the silent, shapeshifting, superpowered, obsessive stalker who can somehow fry my brain with her presence! Perfect!’

With a flourish of unfounded confidence, Lyra got up from the table, leaving the untouched salad to celebrate its continued existence. Departing the mess hall, she trotted down the crowded corridors with a certain frustrated resolve. If she was going to do this, she was going to need some help from her friends, and while they may be a little anti-social themselves, there were still two other ponies she could turn to.

A few minutes later, a set of elevator doors dinged open and allowed Lyra access to the R&D floor. No matter how many times Lyra ventured into this section of headquarters, she never failed to be impressed by the sheer insanity of the place. For while ExTech was the foremost facility of benign scientific study in Equestria, it also had such a large quantity of sheer whimsical junk and ever-shifting marvels that it would put the entertainment value of your average theme park to shame.

To try and describe ExTech was like trying to recall a fever dream. It was such a condensed sinkhole of arbitrary disjointed ideas and fleeting fanciful interests that it may as well have been a life sized abstract sculpture dedicated to the concept of imagination itself. In fact, the real meat and bones of ExTech's ongoing research was so mercurial in nature that ExTech’s Physicists often joked that even the simple act of observing it would prompt it to change.

Weaving her way through the clustered tech, Lyra could hear activity coming from the more recently added nanotechnology department and decided to make that her destination.

Vinyl was hunched over her desk, a massive magnifying lens positioned between her face and the Nanofabric she was so fervently tweaking at with microscopic magical nudges. At Lyra's approach, Vinyl shot bolt upright, hastily scrambling for her signature shades which she jauntily slapped onto her face with a disarming grin.

The DJ swayed on her hooves babbling out a greeting.

"Hey... Lyra! Haha, Lyra, Lyra... Lyra. What... What are you doing up so late?"

“It’s morning.”

Vinyl scoffed.

“What? Ponies don’t wake up in the morning! That’s a crazy time to wake up!”

Lyra glared suspiciously as Vinyl consistently stared at a spot just over her left shoulder.

“Speaking of ‘Crazy Time’, what’s with you?”

“Uh... nothing! Not anything. At all. Very little something could be attributed to what it is that I have. Hey! Get away! Get-”

Ignoring her protests, Lyra stepped up to Vinyl and magically lifted the shades out of the way, leaning in with concern. She frowned as she noticed that Vinyl's eyes were raw, being fractured with countless enlarged veins and highlighted by cheekbones that were adorned with more baggage than your average airport.

"Wow. When was the last time you slept?

Vinyl swayed slightly, her unfocused eyes blinking disturbingly out of sync.

"That depends. Is today Thursday, or next February?"

Vinyl suddenly frowned, flaring up in response to a statement only she could hear.

"What, sleep?! I don't need sleep! I need to fix these nanosuits, is what I need to do. Everypony is at each others throats with concern over Trixie and Surprise... If we just had these suits online... *yawn* ... We could solve everything... And everypony would be happy again."

Lyra's heart warmed ever so slightly.

"Vinyl... You don't have to ruin yourself for our sake."

Vinyl scrunched her face up in annoyance. Also sluggishness.

"Hey, I wasn't talking to you! I was talking to Lyra! Butt out, missy."

Vinyl quickly forgot her grievance at the arrival smell of Octavia, bearing hot beverages.

"There you are Babe! You're... You're the best... And you have coffee... The best coffee."

Vinyl slumped onto the shoulder of her friend.

"... Your mane smells nice..."

Octavia ignored her, carefully dropping the mugs of coffee onto the table. Unlike Vinyl, Lyra was not so sleep-deprived to miss the small pills Octavia had slipped into the Dj's drink. Turning to Lyra, Octavia gave a comforting smile and a tiny wink.

"Yes, well that aside, Vinyl and I may be close to finally de-bugging the software, so you should be back in top form in no time."

Lyra nodded half-heartedly. Taking a breath, she decided that now was the time.

"That's great!... But, uh... Have either of you seen Bon-Bon since last week?"

Octavia shook her head.

"No. Why? Did something happen?"

Lyra flinched a little at Octavia's concerned gaze. She bit her lip, wondering again if it was necessarily the best idea to seek advice from her friends on how to not suck at showing compassion and empathy.

Lyra let out a little sigh, her mind made up.

"So... Me and Bon-Bon... I take it you know about our... Falling out?"

Vinyl stopped leaning on Octavia, lifting her coffee as she scratched at her head.

“Yeah, I heard she was bugging the Commander to have you taken off high-class missions. It was a weird cross between a sort of ‘super protective mother’ and a ‘science nerd paired up with juvenile delinquent on a class project’ sort of objection. Sheesh, what happened between you two anyway?

Lyra felt her ears meekly flatten against her head.

“I almost died on her birthday.”

“Wow. Jerk move, Lyra.”

Ignoring Vinyl, Lyra began pacing back and forth.

“I just don’t know what to do! She’s always the one looking out for me when I screw things up. I feel so useless that I can’t be there for her when she needs it.”

Lyra groaned, running a hoof through her mane in restless frustration.

“I can’t stand seeing her like this...”

While Vinyl mulled this over, Octavia reached under the work table and retrieved a large cushion which she stealthily slid up to Vinyl's backside in preparation for when she collapsed from exhaustion.

Vinyl yawned.

"So go... Go... idunnotalktoherorsummat..."

Vinyl swayed on her hooves for a second, a sharp gasp escaping from her mouth as the sleeping pills kicked in. Drooping with fatigue and betrayal, she turned to her companion.

"... Et tu Octavia?"

Finally coerced into the realms of sleep, Vinyl's limbs gave way, utterly ignoring the readied cushion as she harshly face planted the floor. Rolling her eyes, Octavia stepped forwards and hefted the dozing DJ onto her back.

"Lyra, I think Bon-Bon likely just needs some time to think this over on her own. Go do some crime fighting, clear your head. When Bon-Bon is ready, she'll talk to you."

Lyra felt her spirits fall. Even with her limited knowledge on the subject, she knew she couldn’t dispute the advice she’d been given. Which was too bad because it really wasn’t the quick solution she needed to get back on board with her Maredowell problem. For a moment, Lyra considered asking Octavia about it, but with her currently looking after Vinyl’s forcibly administered wellbeing, it really seemed like a bad time.

"Yeah... I guess I’ll see you."

Head down and despondent, Lyra turned and left from whence she came. Parting ways with her two friends, she found herself envying Octavia for her charm. The mare had a set of unerring, effortless social graces that seemingly rendered her incapable of offending anypony without specifically intending to. Lyra’s life thus far would have been so much easier if she had had that ability.

When she also found herself envying Vinyl for her drug-induced slumber, she wondered if she was taking the self-pity train perhaps a station too far.

As the lab doors slid shut behind her, she barely set hoof in the corridor before nudging horn-first into her commanding officer. She hastily stepped back and stood to attention as Derpy smoothed the poke out of her uniform.

“Oh hey, Commander. I, uh didn’t see you there.”

“I noticed.”

With a flick of a wing, Derpy motioned for Lyra to follow her down the corridor. As Derpy got her ‘leadership’ face on, Lyra recognised that this jaunt was entirely business.

"I need you to suit up and escort me to the police precinct. We've been waiting for things to calm down a bit, but it's time we grilled Trixie for information about the Empire's long-term plans."

Lyra scrunched in scepticism.

"What makes you think she'll tell us anything? We're the good guys, remember? It's not like we can just force it out of her."

"Sadly, no. Redheart has been looking into the herbal properties of something called 'The Seeds of Truth', but short of intentionally infecting Trixie with the Cutie Pox, it doesn't seem like it will yield any results."

Lyra thought about it for about a second.

"That option sounds pretty tempting, honestly."

Derpy let loose a slight chuckle followed by a knowing smirk.

"-But hardly necessary. Even if she won't give us anything big, Trixie won't be able to resist running her mouth about something. You two have a bit of a rapport with her, after all. We could just dangle you on a string in front of her and she'd rant for hours."

Lyra's ears perked.

"Us two? You mean, Bon-Bon will be there?"

Derpy cocked her head.

“Why? Is that a problem?”

“No! Of course not, why would it be a problem?”

Lyra grinned, hoping she bought it.

“Her request to have you taken off of active duty seems like a likely candidate.”

The grin turned into a grimace, reminding her of why she wasn’t a salespony. She hastily tried to change the subject.

“So... What’s the situation at MPD? Surely the Empire must have made some kind of an attempt to free Trixie by now.”

“Not even one. Aside from holding back the media, the cops haven't had any trouble at all in containing our little trickster. They’re moving her into a real prison today, so the transfer between the two may be our only chance to talk with her without anypony knowing about it.”

As the two of them entered the M.A.R.E vehicle hangar, an agent stepped up to hoof Lyra her costume, which she began to slip on as other agents pulled up the nondescript car they would be using to sneak there.

“This is another unfortunate complication brought on by our freelance superhero problem. Thanks to Maredowell handing Trixie over publicly, everyone knows where she is, so we can’t transfer her to a more secure... and more importantly, secret location without the entire paparazzi discovering that M.A.R.E exists. The eyes of the city are watching her like a hawk, and if we want to keep our anonymity, we’re forced to sit on our hooves and let Trixie stay in inadequate incarceration until Luna makes the first move.”

Now dressed for the occasion, Lyra stepped up and popped open the door for Derpy to slip into. As she did so, Derpy paused and gave Lyra a strange look.

"Oh, and Lyra?"

"Yes, Commander?"

"Save your personal dispute until after the mission, if you would?"

Lyra flinched.

"Yes Commander."

Filing into the car, she and Derpy departed onto the city roads. Although she was on her way to meet with her partner, Lyra's hope at a speedy reconciliation had been almost shot down at this point.

Steeling herself, Lyra let her determination take hold. Like Octavia had said, she wasn’t going to patch things up with BB any time soon, so she might as well turn her whole attention onto what she could do by herself. Lyra decided there and then that she was going to get to the bottom of this Maredowell thing herself, and if she had to get Trixie to squawk before she could do that, then she'd just have to make her sing.

Scene 4

Luna was not a happy princess.

Even on a good day it often seemed like her immortal life was defined by a feeling of crushing disappointment, usually directed towards Equestria and everypony in it.

In the last year, it seemed that this disappointment was mainly focused on her most valued servant, or sometimes in the mere fact that she lived in a world in which a resounding failure like Trixie could be considered her most valued servant.

Over the millennia, Luna had found ways of dealing with this disappointment. Sadly, many of them were bad habits that she swore she had picked up from her brutish sister, and so she was not the one at fault for these slights on her own nobility.

Some of these bad habits included reading trashy novels, dancing in the shower, and most often, eating entire buckets of delicious Zap-Apple ice cream.

Luna reclined in her massive throne, scowling into the darkness of her massive throne room as an extensive conveyor belt of spoons slowly cycled via her magical grip from the bucket to her mouth and back again.

However, before her sulking could reach peak efficiency, a bright chirping resounded around the chamber. In a blur of light, one of Trixie's communication screens floated down from the rafters to greet Luna with an incoming transmission.

Luna glanced up in surprise, setting down her bucket of ice cream as she noticed the communication being presented to her.

"A STATUS REPORT?"

The screen flickered into focus, giving Luna time to wipe the ice cream from her muzzle before addressing her servants. With no small irritation, Luna squinted at the slack-jawed pair of dorky colts presented to her. Upon taking a closer inspection, Luna recognised them as being those two less-than-brilliant unicorns that followed Trixie around.

She felt her spirits sink. It was youths like these that tempted Luna to give credence to that old propaganda about her eating children.

To be fair, she did very little to disprove this accusation.

"OH, IF IT ISN'T MORSEL AND BITE SIZE. HOW FARES YOUR LATEST HALF-BRAINED SCHEME? A RESOUNDING VICTORY, I'M SURE..."

Snips gave a buck tooth grin that was somewhat similar to a rabbit caught in headlights. Rubbing his ears in discomfort, Luna noticed that he surreptitiously turned the volume down before answering.

"Ah, the mission to restart the Lunatron production lines was a failure, your Supreme Nighttimeyness... Maredowell destroyed our machinery shipments... again."

Snails continued, speaking in such a way that it seemed like his brain was not so much forming sentences as it was slowly melting, and the words leaking from his mouth were the consequences of this liquefaction.

"She showed up before we could get any gizmos out of the crates. And Harpflank and Sweets were right behind her."

Ignoring his droning voice, Luna waved a hoof in irritation.

"AND WHAT OF TRIXIE'S COMPUTER SYSTEMS? HAS THERE BEEN ANY PROGRESS IN UNDOING THE WELL-DOER’S SABOTAGE?"

Snips flinched at her tone, seeming to make an attempt at hiding inside his own shadow.

"Uh... No, oh Astronomical Moonliness. We still can't get the mainframe to stop spewing smoke and the base's fuses keep blowing out faster than they can be replaced. It seems Maredowell has circumvented all of our... Uh, extensive countermeasures."

Luna's ghetto-blasting vocal chords injected a wry tone into her speech as she raised an eyebrow.

"OH REALLY? YOUR GENIUS PLOT TO ‘CALL IN THE ELECTRICIAN’ SOMEHOW FAILED?”

Snips trembled in fright, seeing his life flash before his eyes.

“Uh, yes?”

Luna rolled her eyes.

"FORGET IT, JUST GRAB ANOTHER ONE OF THE BIG LUNATRONS FROM THE SURPLUS HANGAR AND STEAL SOME SUPPLIES FROM SOMEWHERE ELSE."

"Actually, we just used the last one we have... Maredowell already smashed all the rest."

Snails leaned across, nudging the side of his pudgy companion.

"And don't forget the one where we couldn't figure out how to get it out of the door. Ahh, we utterly totalled that one."

Luna placed a calming hoof to her forehead.

"REMIND ME, WHY DOES TRIXIE KEEP YOU TWO AROUND?"

Snails beamed warmly, much like a particularly cheap light bulb liable to serve as a fire hazard.

"We're moral support. Miss Trixie says that looking at us always makes her feel better about herself!"

Luna displayed no emotion.

"... YOU HAVE CERTAINLY MADE ME APPRECIATE HER MORE."

Luna growled, the action producing a noise not unlike an earthquake.

“FOR ALL HER FLAWS, IT SEEMS TRIXIE WAS THE ONLY DECENT UNDERLING I HAD... WE WILL NEED TO GET HER BACK, AND SOON.”

"B-But your Astounding Twinkleyness, Maredowell has been ready and waiting for everything we do! How are we going to rescue Trixie when she's constantly breathing down our necks?

Luna sniffed derisively.

“I AM NO LONGER CONTENT TO LET MY EMPIRE BE SCUTTLED BY A LONE MARE... I HAVE A PLAN TO BE RID OF THIS WELL-DOING MARE ONCE AND FOR ALL.”

She raised a hoof to the screen, harshly typing in a string of numbers and pretending not to notice when it cracked under the force of her taps.

“I AM PREPARING A SECRET WEAPON AT THESE COORDINATES. YOU ARE TO COLLECT IT, TOMORROW NIGHT, AND FREE TRIXIE, IS THAT CLEAR?”

“But... these coordinates are-”

“ARE YOU QUESTIONING MY PLAN, PORK RIND?"

Snips blubbered like a seal.

“N-No, your Grand Nocturnalness...”

“GOOD. NOW MAKE IT SO.”

Snips and Snails cut the feed, returning the throne room to its regular dimly-lit state. Luna distastefully glanced down into her bucket of ice cream, mournfully noting that it was now entirely liquid. As experience had taught her that simply re-freezing the ice cream wasn’t a viable option, she instead levitated the bucket over the edge of her plateau and dropped it into a bubbling vat below.

It would take weeks before her scientists discovered the source of the explosion.

Scowling, Luna waved one of her attendants out of the shadows to take a message for her.

“TELL THE ENGINEERS TO WORK HARDER, SHORT SUPPLIES OR NOT, WE NEED THOSE NEW LUNATRONS TO BE READY FOR TRIXIE’S RETURN.”

“Right away, oh Lunariffic one.”

Luna scowled.

“DON’T YOU START.”

An undisclosed distance away, Maredowell crouched atop a dark roof. This in itself was unsurprising... As a full-time Superhero, she spent most of her time performing activities on rooftops of various light intensities and as such, had gotten quite good at it.

She had also gotten quite good at listening in on Luna’s communication channels.

It was hardly unexpected that Luna was planning to break Trixie out of jail, but the news of this ‘secret weapon’ worried Maredowell greatly. Tucking her hijacked communicator under her hat, Maredowell committed the intercepted coordinates to memory and summoned her wings in a flash of light.

Pausing, she gave the wings an experimental flap, looking them over with slight wonder. While each of her forms was certainly powerful, she found that this one came the most naturally to her.

And, unlike the other two, it didn’t raise uncomfortable questions.

Taking flight, Maredowell cut a path for her new destination. Metropony needed her protection, and she'd never leave it hanging.

Scene 5

As of right now, Miranda Rights was the most important cop in Metropony. Not because of her own merits, not because of her own achievements, but because of a criminal.

Trixie was the most dangerous unicorn in the city, and Carrot Top had chosen Miranda to be the pony to escort her safely to jail.

It was a most unusual transfer to be sure. Normally by this time a prisoner this dangerous would have been sent to Canterlot to face trial in the high courts, but due to the 'high profile' nature of her case, the trial was being pushed back out of fear of interference from the Lunar Empire.

However, she equally couldn't be allowed to remain here. All the media attention was hampering day to day police activity and, being only peacekeepers, they lacked any sort of defense that could even scratch your average Lunatron. So, pending her formal conviction, she was being transferred to solitary confinement in the Metropony correctional facility for the lawfully challenged. Though not ideal, the guards there at least had access to slightly heavier weapons and defenses than they could muster here at the precinct, so that would have to do for now.

Despite being chosen for the task, Miranda had no say in the transport preparations and this lack of control worried her greatly. As she and her partner headed to retrieve the special prisoner, Miranda's wings twitched in instinctual discomfort, as there was something clearly fishy going on with this operation.

She didn't bother to mention her concerns to her partner. Cold Cup could usually pick up on her moods pretty well, and wouldn't have offered any worthwhile response even if it had been news to her.

She wasn't a talkative partner, and rarely expressed emotion whatsoever. Coffee brown, and with a full cascade of smoke-grey curls, Sergeant Cup had been on the force for longer than any of her colleagues... so much so, that newer recruits often joked that she had come with the building. Miranda had been partnered with her since her first day on the job and had benefited greatly from the older mare's wealth of silent experience.

But, even though the stone-faced Earth pony was the closest thing she had to a friend, Miranda couldn't shake the feeling that her absolute robotic apathy was a result of her simply having seen every kind of crime before and being utterly jaded because of it. As much as she burned with a sense of justice, Miranda would sooner resign than ever let herself get to get to that point.

As they approached, Miranda nodded to the officers standing guard at the end of the corridor, brushing past them as she warily evaluated the prisoner who was the source of this whole mess.

Trixie sat in the corner of her cell, resting calmly in the scant 10% of the room not occupied by her ego. The Lieutenant scowled slightly, amazed that the walls were even able to hold back such an unrelenting force of raw arrogance. Catching her eye, Trixie smirked back, intensifying the egotistical aura to the point where she could almost feel it snapping at her through the bars in an attempt to escape.

However, behind all this palpable emotion, Trixie was smaller than she had expected. Her hat and cape had been confiscated upon her arrest, making her as bare and vulnerable as any other pony. If only Trixie could somehow cover up the pungent stench of evil that hugged her as tightly as her own fur coat, then she might have even made the Lieutenant feel sorry for her.

Trixie winked at the two cops, fluffing her mane as much as her hoofcuffs would allow.

"Have you come to escort Trixie, or simply to admire her? For while Trixie applauds your taste in idols, she would really rather get this little road trip underway."

Miranda barely twitched, nodding to her partner to unlock the cell as she moved in to check for any 'funny business'.

Hauling Trixie off the bench, she triple-checked her restraints and magic-dampeners before allowing Trixie to move for herself and be led from her cell.

As they marched out of the cell block, it soon became clear that the prospect of a silent journey was but a distant pipe dream. As she was keeping the prisoner firmly in her sight at all times, she was fully aware of all the snide glances being cast in her direction.

"You really are scared of Trixie, aren't you?"

Miranda gritted her teeth, but said nothing.

"Trixie doesn't blame you. Trixie scares herself sometimes. But then Trixie remembers that she is Trixie, and that makes everything all better again."

Only another four rooms, and then into the van. She could endure this.

"-Of course Trixie feels sorry for everypony who isn't Trixie, as they have no such comfort. And, yes- If somepony is not Trixie, then it's only reasonable that they would be afraid of Trixie. Stupid ponies are always intimidated by those smarter than them, and Trixie is the smartest pony of-"

"Say 'Trixie' one more time, and I will taze you."

The shackled showmare chuckled.

"... Looks like somepony struck a nerve."

After forcibly escorting Trixie through the precinct doors, they approached the armoured transport van waiting at the center of the criminal transfer procession. Everything seemed to be going smoothly, but as they reached the rear of the van, slightly angry muttering could be heard from inside, as if two mares were engaged in a very tense, uncivil discussion. Raising an eyebrow at her partner, Miranda left Trixie in Cup's capable hooves as she reached up and flung open the rear doors.

She was incredibly displeased to find the van occupied by two superheroes and a pegasus in a suit.

"What do you think you're doing in here?! This is police property undertaking crucial police business-"

She was cut off by the wall-eyed mare in the official-looking uniform.

"-Which we are now involved in, with permission from your Chief and authority granted by the Princess of Equestria."

Miranda choked on her own outrage as the grey mare presented a scroll that she grudgingly accepted as bearing Carrot Top's signature, as well as a flourishing scrawl that she could only assume came from her majesty herself.

She and Cold Cup shared a frustrated glare, but said nothing as they closed the doors behind them and led the prisoner to one of the seats lining the side of the car. With no rebuttal to add, she simply resigned herself to staring angrily at the red-clad super pony sitting across from her. For whatever reason, it seemed Sweets was in no less of a bad mood than she herself was.

Miranda had been on the team assigned to uncovering the mystery behind Metropony's vigilante 'protectors' back when the duo had first arrived on their streets. After several false leads, it had finally felt like they were getting close... Until orders arrived from Canterlot to 'stop asking questions' about the lawbreaking heroes. Even at the time it had reeked of some sort of conspiratorial hogwash. Now, seeing the two of them literally being given a free pass into police business, it only confirmed those resentful theories full force.

As the car revved up and the convoy set off from the compound, the government pegasus reached into her suit and pulled out three forms and pens which she handed to the ponies opposite her.

"Oh, and we'll need you to sign these, agreeing that you will not speak to anyone regarding what you may hear during this trip."

As the two cops begrudgingly complied, Trixie took one look at the offered paper and raised an eyebrow.

"... Seriously?"

The pony blushed and stuffed the form back into her pocket.

"Ok, maybe not you."

Trixie settled her shackles into a more comfortable position as she imperiously surveyed the intruders visiting her.

"So, have you come to gloat over Trixie's defeat? To smugly scoff as you pat your collective backs in congratulation that you have finally defeated your greatest nemesis, the Great and Powerful-"

She paused, holding a hoof to her mouth in false shock.

"Oh wait... Except that you had nothing to do with it, did you?"

Harpflank growled a little.

"You're the one who got beaten, Trixie."

She chuckled, smirking.

"Yes, well, Trixie was rather expecting to fight another righteously deluded 'hero' of your pathetic caliber. If it had not been for your pitiable example skewing the average, Trixie would have better prepared for dealing with such a slippery foe."

Her smirk intensified.

"Oh, I guess that means you did assist in my capture after all!... If only by setting the bar so low that Trixie had forgotten what it meant to expect something actually challenging!"

The grey pony steepled her hooves.

"Ok, here's a challenge for you. Luna appears out of nowhere and asserts her claim to the throne. She builds an army of followers and takes you, a disgraced showpony and even more disgraced scientist to build her unstoppable weapons of war and turn them on the populace. But Metropony is just a city. Canterlot is our capital and almost none of Equestria's infrastructure is based here. If she wants the throne, why hasn't she gone and pushed Celestia out of it? Why does she maneuver and scheme, but only send you to do any damage? What is it that she wants from this town?"

Miranda watched as the prisoner's face slowly morphed back into smug superiority.

"... Alright, Trixie will indulge you your curiosity."

The showmare leaned forward in her seat, licking her lips as she settled into the grandiose role of a true storyteller.

"Luna says that this town has a history that runs deeper than any grudge that you or I can conceive of. That this place has been her battlefield since before any of us could even draw breath."

Harpflank glared at her.

"-and what is that supposed to mean for us, exactly?"

"It means that you are a pawn in a game that is millennia in its progress, and will drag on equally long after you are gone."

Sweets snickered.

"If we're pawns, then what does that make you?"

She actually stopped to contemplate her response.

"Hmm, a rook, a bishop... Trixie certainly wouldn't settle for anything less than a knight, at least."

She snorted.

"At any rate, regardless of the larger nation, the fate of all the world is, and always has been decided on the land where this city rests. This is why you and I are here, the combined brains and... Urgh, brawn of Equestria's ‘finest’ ponies dedicated to holding back the ambitions of one mare and her patron goddess... Until somepony tried to interfere, that is."

Harpflank stated the obvious.

"Maredowell... She kicked your ass."

Trixie’s eyes narrowed.

“That one is truly unnatural. Even more of a freak than you, though I can’t deny that there are similarities.”

Sweets leaned forwards.

“You think her powers are from the same source as ours?”

Trixie waved a hoof dismissively, her restraints jingling as she did so.

“Trixie took a scan of her the one time she was caught running through our base. The magic that runs through her is almost indistinguishable from yours, albeit twisted and intermingled somehow.”

“She was in your base?”

Trixie rolled back her eyes and ‘uggghed’.

“She took everything. Everything that Trixie allowed to be stored on our main computer systems at least. Granted, they were trifling things that Trixie had backups upon backups for, but concerning enough as to why she wanted them.”

Nopony said anything, but there was an undertone of agreement that this behaviour wasn’t one usually seen in an independent superhero. The question then became, who was it that she was taking it for?

Harpflank forced a smile.

“I don’t suppose you know of any secret organisations that hate your guts and would want to scupper your plans?... besides us, that is."

“None that Trixie considers to be worth her time.”

Miranda noticed Harpflank flinch as the pegasus shot her an angry glare. As they felt the van turn a corner, the grey mare turned to face the officers with a wearied expression.

“I trust you realise that the whole ‘secret organisation’ thing you just heard was also covered by that non-disclosure agreement that you signed.”

Miranda scowled.

“Yeah, I get it. I’ll hold to your bureaucratic, legalistic load of horesapples. Now are you about done shooting the breeze with my prisoner? I’m sure you have a busy day knocking down buildings, or whatever it is you ‘heroes’ get up to.”

There was an insistent beeping sound which prompted the mare to check a small communications device she pulled out of her pocket. Setting it back, she motioned for her companions to rise as the convoy drew momentarily to a halt.

“As a matter of fact, something just came up. Thank you for your time and discretion.”

Harpflank gave Miranda a quick grin as she passed.

“Look after our Trixie for us, would you? She gets cranky when she doesn’t get enough attention.”

Trixie raised a hoof to her chest.

“Moi? Oh Harpflank, did your mother never give you the talk about the pots and the kettles?”

She gave a devilish grin.

“While you're out, say hello to the cape-and-hat copycat for Trixie would you?”

Trixie snickered as she saw the scowl on Harpflank’s face just before the van doors slammed shut and the convoy began moving again. Although the interruption had passed, Miranda still stared at those doors for a lingering moment before turning back to their prisoner.

"Freakin superheroes..."

"Trixie can most certainly sympathize."

To her eternal frustration, Trixie did not seem to take the lack of anypony who cared as a signal to stop talking.

“... But for your sake, You really should have insisted that they stick around.”

Miranda fluffed her wings in irritation.

“And why would I ever do that?”

Trixie laughed haughtily.

“Because now you’re stuck in here with nopony to protect you from Trixie... Those two imbeciles were perhaps the only thing in Equestria who could have averted your suffering! But now, you have no recourse and Trixie will savor every instant of your... Your- Why are you smiling like that?”

Miranda and Cold Cup shared a knowing glance as a rare smile spread across their faces. The normally by-the-books cop instead felt a delectable taste of schadenfreude as she slowly reached for her taser.

“You said the ‘T’ word...”

Scene 6

On Metropony’s south side there stood a warehouse district. It was there where you could find any kind of ware in existence. Silverware, software, hardware, kitchenware, tupperware, shareware, glassware, earthenware, ladieswear... the list just went on and on.

The trouble the city had, among other things, was that with so many warehouses, there was too much ground to cover, rendering it almost impossible for them to keep vermin from moving in.

In short, taking shelter in a rarely-used timber warehouse was a no-brainer for any maniacal pegasus who didn’t want to be found.

Surprise grinned her manic grin. It was finally time. Time for her to decipher the next stage of her totally sweet master plan. Time for her to revel in the joy of being surprised by her own brilliance. Time for all living things who know joy to look upon her with fear as she struck them down, eradicating all forms of light and love from every last hope-filled corner of Metropony city!

But it was also lunchtime, so all that other stuff would have to wait until she had finished making sandwiches.

Making sandwiches would normally be an easy task, but unlike most ponies, Surprise always had trouble buttering the bread. Though not a logically-minded pony, even she recognised that the fact that she was trying to do so with a machete probably had something to do with it.

Ponies often asked Surprise silly questions like 'why try to butter sandwiches with a machete in the first place?' Or 'should you really be putting that much sugar into a HBLT in the first place?' And even sometimes 'how many of these things do I have to eat before you stop waterboarding my grandmother?'

Silly questions like that.

The answer to such ridiculous inquiries was actually rather mundane. The truth was that she used a machete because her years of Commando training had taught her to never bother with any knife smaller than your arm.

Those lessons had never steered her wrong before, so Surprise held herself to them even through all the inconvenience...Though it still confused her why you needed years of training just to learn how to walk around without any underwear on.

Setting the machete down, Surprise took a seat on one of the many stacks of logs and tucked into her sandwich. It was of course, delicious, but Surprise still frowned at the way all the sugar spilt out the sides when she bit down on it.

Surprise tapped at her cheek thoughtfully, then, in a moment of inspiration, reached into her mane and pulled out a roll of duct tape.

This was the scene that greeted Rover and Spot as they shuffled up to their fearless leader. A butter-stained machete being used to cut off strips of tape that were then pasted over the cracks in the sides of a hay bacon, lettuce, tomato and sugar sandwich.

Just an ordinary day.

Surprise dropped her machete and waved to them, mumbling a greeting though cheeks full of sugar.

“Hey guys, what brings you here?”

Rover didn’t look happy. He never really ever looked happy, but his life was so crummy and meaningless that Surprise was really rather used to seeing that expression on him. What was unusual was that he didn’t seem to be happy with her.

Surprise chewed her sandwich in confusion. How could anybody not be happy to see her? She was like the queen of being liked... or rather more like a princess of likeability, seeing as queens were frowned upon in Equestria for some reason.

In any case, the stupid dog began talking.

“While you were taking your mid-thursday hibernation last week, you began leaving us explicit instructions to talk to you at this exact time and place for reasons that would ‘then become clear’.”

Spot nodded nervously.

“It was really creepy. Your eyes were closed, but you still kept staring at me. Even after you went back to sleep you... whispered to me all night.”

He stared into the distance, perhaps re-living that night of horrible, horrible muttering.

Ignoring his distress, Surprise flapped into the air, storing her machete and sandwich in her voluminous tail for later.

“Huh... it sounds like my subconference brain was trying to leave me some sort of clue as to the next stage of my plan... How interesting.”

Lunchtime or no, if this was a specific time-based epiphany, then Surprise would need to act now before her genius plan was lost forever... Then again, her past self had entrusted this important task to these two idiots, so maybe she wasn’t as brilliant as Surprise gave her credit for.

“This time and place... huh. I guess there must be a reason we camped in here... I bet there are more clues to be found! C’mon guys! There’s a genuine patented Surprise-brand surprise somewhere in amongst all these logs!”

The dogs shuddered.

“Lucky us...”

Leaving her minions to trail behind her, Surprise strolled past countless heaped stacks of sizeable logs, absently navigating the cavernous space until, by pure chance, she reached the section of the warehouse she had affectionately dubbed ‘The Nursery’.

The Nursery was no different from any of the other identical rows of felled timber... save for the fact that Surprise had sealed the two entrances with matching sets of olde-timey saloon doors and had held up family tradition by covering all of the nearby log piles with relentless cascades of colorful streamers and balloons.

There were many things that they used the Nursery for, but most noticeably was the massive mountain of stolen stuff that towered over even the titanic log stacks.

It took barely a second for Surprise to deduce that her plan had something to do with something in here. Without breaking her confident strut, Surprise slammed open the saloon doors and, holding them wide open with her wings, smugly surveyed her stash of Ill-gotten gains.

Wedding rings, family heirlooms, washing machines, old comic books, intact bank vaults, a submarine, 16 wallets, a fossilised dragon skeleton, a stack of used clothes, roughly 13% of Metropony's vital plumbing, three lawn mowers, a photocopy of the town charter, a Wonderbolts poster, her entire pony weight in trading cards, a tin of sardines, two forklift trucks and an entire bag of foal's teeth that the Tooth Pixie would never lay her grubby mandibles on!

Not a bad haul for a pony lacking in three major brainwave patterns.

However, it was not the material goods that drew Surprise's attention, but the animal goods... animal goods that were currently using the loot mountain as a makeshift playground.

After all, one does not simply take command of Equestria's largest containment zoo for a multitude of monstrous magical maladies without electing to take some of them home with you!

Surprise trotted over to what was arbitrarily dictated as the kitchen, where her third henchdog was preparing their pet food. To a pony nose, the feed was a repulsive blend of minced entrails and mulchy plant food that made Surprise's disappointingly herbivorous stomach convulse in preemptive agony. Buuuut... judging by the reaction from their new pets, it was the perfect meal for four rambunctious and very hungry Timberwolves.

As Fido finished mixing the horrific slosh, he was bowled off his paws as the pups all simultaneously pounced on him, gratefully licking at his face with their mossy tongues. It was such an adorable moment that even a psychopath like Surprise felt her heart warm at the sight.

It was not an uncommon display of cross-species canine affection. Having been the one to swipe the wolves in the first place, Fido had quickly taken on the role of nanny for their little group, raising the... Impressionable infants with compassion and training them in the ways of a true villainous family.

As the pups rolled around with their adoptive dad, Surprise blinked water from her eyes, idly wondering if the tears had originated from sentimentality, or rather the from the rancid smell of the wolves atrocious breath. Ever interested in ruining a happy moment, Surprise tapped a spoon on the edge of their food bowls, and was soon greeted by a giddy lineup, eagerly wagging their leafy tails in anticipation of a meal.

Surprise looked them over critically, making sure the happy monsters met up to her demanding specifications. Letting out a huff of uncertainty, she glanced back to her minion.

"Are we sure these are real wolves? They're so domesticated they're practically houseplants!"

Fido wiped tree sap from his well-slobbered face as he rose from the floor.

"They are ready. They obey the pack leader... And are ripe for their first hunt!"

Surprise snorted.

"Yeah, they certainly smell ripe enough."

She suddenly clapped her hooves as a lightbulb went off in her head.

"Oh! I just realized! We still haven't named them yet!"

Fido raised a massive paw to his chin as a far-away smile appeared under his sloping forehead. He spoke slowly in his deep, ponderous voice.

"I kind of liked the name Bartholomew..."

Surprise shot him a scathing look.

"Nobody asked you."

The remaining two Diamond Dogs finally caught up their leader as Surprise descended into deep thought. Nodding self-assuredly, she began to float down the line of expectant wolves, naming them from left-to-right.

"I'm thinking... Twig Monster, Leaf Monster, Bark Monster...”

She stared long and hard at the fourth wolf, hoof poised and ready to point.

“And you can beeee... Bulbasaur."

Bulbasaur tilted his head to one side and whimpered confusedly. The other wolves shot him a sympathetic glance.

Surprise floated into the air, posing smugly.

“Yes, now that my new minions meet up to my standards, I can finally begin to recall the possible machinations that my past self may have plotted and proceed my campaign to the third phase of what is probably some sort of master plan, maybe.”

Fido and Spot scratched at their heads, uncertain how to wrap their minds around that many uncertainties. Surprise scratched at her head, struggling to reconstruct her prior thought processes with the defective hardware sandwiched between her ears. Leaf Monster scratched at his ears, wondering when the floaty white pack leader was going to shut up and give him his food.

After a moment of awkward silence, Rover decided Surprise wasn’t getting anywhere and cleared his throat with a hesitant cough.

“Boss Pony, it’s not that I doubt your plan or anything... But while Timberwolves are great hunters, I don’t see how they are going to help against Harpflank and Sweets... They are just too powerful!”

Surprise frowned, ignoring her audience as she mused this over in her head.

“The tall one is right... this isn’t going to help much as it is... There has to be something more to my intentions.”

She spun around, pointing a demanding hoof at Spot.

“You, the chihuahua! What was it I said while I was staring at you in my sleep?”

“But I’m not a-”

“Don’t care. What did I say?”

“Uh, something about mutants?”

Surprise knitted her brows together in concentration, turning over this new, or rather, old information. She looked down at the expectant faces of Twig Monster and Leaf Monster. She looked back at her pack of somewhat-abused minions. She looked around at the colossal rows of wood stacked up all around them.

Slowly, a devious smile broke out across her face.

“Oh-ho-ho! I am a genius!”

She turned to the still very hungry wolves with a smirk.

“You guys thinking what I’m thinking?”

Bark Monster barked in affirmation.

"Our wolves have been such good boys, they look like they deserve a treat... Not this crummy plant feed we’ve been giving them.”

She reached into the stack of stolen goods and pulled out a curious cylindrical device adorned with a pair of hoof-shaped slots on the side. Surprise grinned in recognition. The expo was only two weeks ago, and it already felt like forever since she had last laid eyes on this futuristic pilfered contraption. Chuckling, Surprise unslotted the Cylinder from its base, gazing mischievously at the unearthly glow emerging from inside.

“Luckily, a friend of mine happened to lend me some of her... 'Sweetener'... Hehehe."

She twisted the cap off of the canister before pouring the contents into the food. The sludgy liquid sparkled and coursed with raw magic, emitting a dull glow as it was absorbed by the now-sodden mulch.

Surprise dropped the bowls to the ground, giving an unmistakable signal for her new pets to dig in. As they ate with the ferocity that only wolves possess, the effect was instant. Sweets’ supercharged magic was consumed and corrupted, igniting the timberwolves fragile bodies with newfound strength.

The Diamond dogs looked on in slack-jawed horror as the sickly green glow of the wolves’ magical core slowly flickered into being and rippled across the surface of their bodies, like a tide of cursed luminescence.

The raw power refracted the light around them, casting harsh, imposing shadows on the stacks of logs and distorting the wolves grizzly image to the point where they looked like they were made from slightly-out-of-place CGI.

The force of the mutagenic magic rippled over their bodies, twisting and reforming their shape into something dark and primal. Finishing off their meals, the four wolves, eyes aflame, threw back their heads and howled to the ceiling. As if summoned by the echoing call, their magic cores exploded outwards, spreading like wildfire to ensorcel every colossal log in the warehouse.

The wave of magic crashed over the Diamond Dogs, setting all their fur on end as an instinctual fear trickled down their spines. Resisting the urge to wet himself, Rover called out to their boss for confirmation.

"A... Are you sure this is safe, Pony?"

He turned around, confused.

"Pony?"

Thirty meters away, Surprise poked her head out from behind a wall of sandbags, lifted the visor of her crash helmet and yelled a response.

"SORRY, CAN'T HEAR YOU OVER THE SOUND OF THIS MINIMUM SAFE DISTANCE! YOU’LL HAVE TO SPEAK UP!"

The Dog’s ears flattened as they heard the cacophonous creak of breaking chains. Throwing themselves to the floor, the Diamond Dogs scampered out of the way as log after log broke free from their restraints and flew towards the enchanted maelstrom occurring in middle of the warehouse.

In less than a minute, the heaping mounds of timber had dwindled into non-existence, the top-notch wood splintering and recombining into colossal lupine forms. Out of nowhere, vines sprung up, snaking and twisting around the fledgling monsters as they took on the appearance of pulsating veins on the surface of their wooden skin. Moss and lichen sprung up in waves, forming the undercoating for shaggy coats of grass and nettles that thickly covered every spare inch of the wolves' bodies.

Twig Monster emitted a growl of satisfaction as the transformation reached his rear, resulting in bountiful palm fronds sweeping the floor and proving new meaning to the term 'bushy tails'. Some truly sinister magic took root in their mouths, as tangled stems sprouted forth poisonous thorns the size of dustbins in lieu of teeth. And, almost as if that definition of 'taking root' wasn't literal enough, a tangled carpet of twisting roots formed a parched, lolling tongue, upon which fungal colonies blossomed, spewing forth clouds of noxious spores with every labored breath that panted from their vegetative lungs.

As the transformation drew to a close, there was scarcely any room left in the warehouse, every available space being occupied by one of four walking forests that snapped and sniffed at each other in sibling comradeship.

Surprise threw her helmet to one side, clapping her hooves in glee as beheld her new atrocities, each one standing taller than an Ursa Minor and twice as ferocious. Her pile of ill-gotten loot had been pretty much trampled and scattered by the massive woodnado, but Surprise didn’t much care about that.

She wasn’t some shallow fool that cared only for material wealth! No, she had no need for such things for she had been given the greatest of all of life's gifts. Greater than love, better than friends, more fulfilling than charity, more satisfying than standing in front of an open fridge on a hot day. None of life’s gifts could quite compare to the sheer, innocent bliss that came from having the firepower to destroy an entire city.

Not that she would, you know. That would be expected of her.

No, she would do nothing so crass. As anypony could tell you, these city-block-sized ravenous plant mutants were clearly a precision instrument.

And she knew exactly where to make the first bludgeon.

Scene 7

It was a sunny Metropony afternoon. With rush hour still 73 minutes away, the streets were quiet for the moment. In a similar trend, the pavements bore only a mere smattering of pedestrians that were probably either tourists taking in the beauty of Metropony’s commercial district, or vagrants, unable to hold down a job that would require them to be at work at this hour.

Rose couldn’t tell which group of ponies was the more lost.

She and the girls had been relaxing for most of the day, just sitting back and gossiping in the absence of any significant customer flow. But now, as ponies would start to leave their jobs and head home, that serenity would soon be gone and their real business would pick up.

So, before the rush hit, the three skittish mares flitted around their flower shop, watering, pruning, gathering, cultivating, fertilising, cleaning... All the odd jobs that they wouldn’t have the time to do when dealing with customers.

Rose was nudged out of her thoughts when she heard an angry clearing of the throat from behind her. Confused, she turned, and was met with Daisy’s frustrated glare. Rose grinned sheepishly as she realised she was mistakenly watering the Manehatten Orchids with the pesticides intended for the Crystal Lilac. Humphing, Daisy snatched the can from her grip without sparing a single word for her ineptitude.

Rose sighed and trotted over to the window. Resting her hooves on the sil, she stared out into the city streets and grumbled in annoyance. Rose loved her friends dearly, but they really were obsessive control freaks. True, their attention to detail could come in handy when running a business, but it was a pain dealing with two ponies who freak out over every. Little. Thing.

...I mean, yeah, Rose also tended to freak out over things... But those were usually when they were in actual dange-

Rose swiveled her head, instantly alert.

“Was that the sound of somepony jumping through a window?”

Daisy looked at her, so very far from being on the same page that she hadn’t even read the prequel yet.

“... What?”

Rose continued to train her ears in the direction of downtown, concern creeping across her face.

“... Now I hear car alarms... And that was definitely the sound of a wall collapsing.”

Daisy trotted up besides her, trembling slightly in fear.

“A-And that strange s-scraping sound...”

“...Is getting closer?” Rose finished for her.

They looked at each other in terror, speaking in unison.

“Where’s Lilly?!”

Too mortified to speak, they turned to the pavement in front of their store. The petrified ponies bit down on their hooves as they saw their blissfully unaware colleague cheerfully humming as she watered the street-side flower stands.

Lilly set down her can with air of satisfaction, looking over the beauty of her work like a proud mother, completely content with the world.

With a boom like the flare of a cannon, the air above her was torn apart by the passage of what could only have been some sort of low-flying purple missile. Half a second behind it, a few dozen flailing robots smashed themselves to pieces on the pavement, though not before tumbling heedlessly through the fragile flower stand, leaving nothing but splinters and petals where it had stood just an eye blink previously.

Lilly stood completely still, not moving an inch as hours and hours worth of floristry slowly rained across the entire neighbourhood. Then, after four seconds of statuesque immobility, she fell over sideways, her utterly rigid limbs having frozen in abject terror. She didn't wake up for five hours.

In the relative safety of their shop, Rose put her head in her hooves and sighed.

Scene 8

Clutching the package to her chest, Maredowell glanced back at the trail of destruction left by the suicidally persistent Drone-class Lunatrons as they tumbled to earth. At least five more remained, clinging to her legs and cape with an entirely mechanical determination.

Piling on the speed of her flight, she stayed low over the city streets, knocking yet another 'bot loose as it clotheslined a waiting streetlamp at mach two.

The Lunatrons had gotten the drop on her as soon as she had taken flight and showed no inclination of releasing her until she surrendered the metallic cube she had taken from the Empire's drop off point.

After overhearing Luna's instructions to her underage underlings, Maredowell had made all due haste to beat them to the punch, tracking the given coordinates to the backroom of a tucked-away Goops-and-stuff all-natural body shop. Though the owner of the store was too spaced out to even notice what was happening, it was clear that the store was being used as a front for the Empire's supply smuggling, including this 'secret weapon' she now had cradled in her forelegs.

Unfortunately, none of the Imperial agents she'd beaten up had any idea what the cube was supposed to do, and neither did the design match that of any files she had stolen from their databanks. So rather than risk the consequences of just smashing a dangerous weapon she knew nothing about, Maredowell had decided that the best course of action was to bring it home with her until she could find somepony to dispose of it properly.

But before she could do that, she needed to shake off these robots.

It was a bit of a tricky prospect to do, what with her forelegs occupied with protecting the cube from anything that could result in it potentially destroying them all. Struggling, she tried to kick one of the Lunatrons in the head, but was tilted off-balance, leading to another near miss as she had to swerve to avoid plowing into the side of an office building.

Seeing that she was getting nowhere by playing nice, Maredowell decided that enough was most certainly enough. Tilting her wings, Maredowell changed angle and shot straight upwards into the sky before curving back into an impossibly tight backflip that flung both the cube and the robots off of her person and into the air.

Finishing her backflip, Maredowell concentrated hard as she reoriented her hooves with the distant ground. There was a flash of light as her wings disappeared and a horn sprouted from below her hat, pointing directly at the soaring Lunatrons.

Maredowell fell from the sky, wrapping her magical aura around the Lunatrons as she dragged them down with her. Landing with her hooves spread in the middle of the road, Maredowell snapped her neck downwards as she added telekinetic force on top of gravitational acceleration to slam the helpless machines into the ground with a crunch of crumpled metal and shattered tarmac.

Rising to a triumphant stand, Maredowell reached out with her magical aura and deftly caught the cube as it fell back down. Feeling proud of the smashing she had just performed, Maredowell smugly adjusted her hat to its preferred angle and swept out her cape before leaping off onto a nearby building and bounding across the skyline back to her base of operations.

A few minutes later and she was home. Abandoned and a bit of a dump, it wasn't the coziest lair in Metropony, but it was isolated and comfortable, which was enough for this caped crusader. Maredowell snorted as she set the cube on a table strewn with other dangerous objects she had confiscated in the last couple of weeks, incredulously thinking of the futility in a mare with her background making any sort of attempt to rent out a proper home.

Imagine, somepony like her, living in a nice flat with a view of Canterlot. Going out and buying groceries, catching the bus, earning some bits, napping on the job, getting in to see a nice concert or a Wonderbolts show without having to sneak in... Chatting and laughing with friends...

Maredowell sat down on her haunches as she let out a soundless sigh.

But that... Wasn't her. She was not a normal pony. She was her city's defender 24/7, keeping the normal ponies safe. She didn't need anything more than that. Except...

Maredowell rose from her thoughts, feeling a familiar tingle in the base of her horn. As if drawn by a magnet, she trotted through narrow hallways, following the pull of her magic. Greatly confused, Maredowell came to a stop outside of the door leading to what she'd claimed as her 'bedroom'.

Blinking beneath her mask, Maredowell wondered why of all places her 'Other sense' would lead her here.

Before she could react, the door exploded into a cloud of splinters and Maredowell got her answer...

Scene 9

After being crammed into the back of an uncomfortably hostile prison van, it was of great relief to Lyra to be back in her superhero natural habitat. Leaping and dashing across Metropony’s rooftops was a guilty pleasure that not even a pegasus could properly appreciate, as the speed and challenge at which this art was performed was a whole league above what a wing-dependant cloud-hopper could reasonably achieve... and there were no fluffy landings in this skyline.

But while a great deal of hostility had been left behind with Trixie and her escorts, The Commander's’ refusal to take Lyra off of active duty had unleashed a whole new wave of seething hostility from a very tight-lipped Bon-Bon.

Feeling these waves flow over her, Lyra couldn’t help but to be uncomfortably reminded of a similar sensation of mounting fury that was present during their journey to the Zoological Center the previous week.

Gulping, Lyra decided she needed to say something.

“Hey... BB, this isn’t going to be like last week's mission, right?”

Bon-Bon leapt across a gap between two buildings, casting a scathing glance backwards as she used her grapple-hook to swing from a nearby skyscraper.

“That depends on whether you plan on ditching me again.”

Lyra gulped twice as hard.

“... No Ma’am.”

There was a crackle of static in their earpieces before Octavia’s calming voice tuned in from M.A.R.E. HQ.

“Good afternoon, agents. This time, one of our agents tracked Maredowell from her last fight and spotted her sneaking into the former Metropony University dormitory halls... Furthermore, he has yet to see her leave. This provides us with a golden opportunity to apprehend her, as the abandoned dorms will almost certainly be clear of civilians and press... the latter of which would certainly leap on the chance to document Metropony’s heroes roughhousing with one another.”

There was the sound of a pony sliding down in their chair as Vinyl groaned in extreme frustration.

"I get that you guys and Maredowell weren't exactly on speaking terms, but this is just stupid! She's been doing us a solid by cracking down on Luna... heck, up until now her only condemning feature is that she gives Lyra the heeby-jeebies."

Even though Vinyl was nowhere within visual range, Lyra felt the need to try and glare at her.

"What, the part where she thrashed BB to a pulp doesn't count on her record?"

In a similar unseen mentality, Vinyl rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, but then she helped you save the city! How the heck can you still not trust her after that?"

"Ladies!"

Cutting in on the comms, Derpy flared her wings imposingly, commanding respect even through an auditory medium.

"Past encounters or not, Maredowell has made it quite clear that she doesn't wish to fight on our side. It's a shame, but given the city only allows Harpflank and Sweets around on the understanding they follow the directives of this agency... It seems we have no choice but to consider her an outlaw."

Vinyl spoke through gritted teeth.

“Yay us! Defenders of friendship, justice and the Equestrian way right here!”

Despite her displeasure, Vinyl was silenced when the Commander fixed her with a cool, misaligned glare.

“You don’t have to like it, but we have a job to do. Our personal feelings and conflicts can’t interfere with our duty.”

Feeling a pit in her stomach, Lyra felt her thoughts drift over the couple of dozen personal conflicts currently interfering with her ability to perform her duty. A quick glance over at Bon-Bon very pointedly looking everywhere but back at her, confirmed that her thoughts were sailing down somewhat similar avenues.

“Yeah, completely focused on the job, Commander...”

The abject silence that followed right up until their arrival at their destination probably meant that she had been unable to keep the lack of belief out of her voice when she said that.

Sliding to a halt, she and Bon-Bon dropped down to street level before casing out the exterior of the building they were most likely about to reduce to rubble.

The former Met-U campus was one of the older collections of buildings in the city. Being made in a time where most of the city’s buildings were composed of stone and timber, the campus had already been experiencing problems due to damp, erosion and general age. However, the final nail pulled out of the woodwork had been when a particularly persistent science lab fire eleven years ago had spread and consumed half the classrooms, prompting the city council and school board to abandon the old location and construct a more modern campus on the outskirts of the city’s suburbs.

Walking almost shoulder-to-shoulder, Lyra and Bon-Bon trotted in through the bent and rusted open front gates of the university campus, attentively scanning the grounds for any signs of trouble. As on-edge as she was about a confrontation with Maredowell, Lyra couldn’t help but frown as she glanced out at the alternately burnt and collapsed remains of most of the campus buildings.

Though it had been left abandoned ever since the fire, thanks to its not insignificant role in the history of Metropony there were quite a lot of ponies campaigning to finally bring an end to its dereliction. Just last year, there had been plans drawn up to renovate the badly abused university and convert it into a museum or historical site.

Unfortunately, the plans had to be abandoned after a certain harp-themed superhero had drop-kicked a Lunatron through the previously-intact arts wing and doubled the number of zeroes on the renovation costs.

After that, the Mayor had made an executive decision that the city’s already-limited renovation funds should be saved for the reconstruction of the various not-abandoned buildings damaged in giant-robot-related incidents.

As she and Bon-Bon approached the one dormitory building still standing, Lyra found herself wilting at yet another poignant reminder of how her superhero career had been substantially less glowing than that of the pony she had come here to apprehend.

Figuring that going in through the front door is for chumps, Lyra and Bon-Bon leapt up to a second-floor window sill and slid in through the broken glass to find themselves in one of the dormitory's dilapidated bedrooms.

Given Bon-Bon's insistence on sticking together, Lyra stayed close behind her partner as they began to search through the dorm's dusty corridors for any sign of Maredowell. After less than two minutes of searching, Lyra reached out and tapped Bon-Bon on the withers, bringing them to a halt.

Wordlessly, she pointed to a single bedroom door positioned at the top of a damaged stairway. It took Bon-Bon a moment to see what she was getting at, but then she noticed that there was a semi-circular groove cut out of the dust on the floor in front of this particular room. Unlike all the other doors on this floor, this bedroom had been entered recently.

Cautiously, Lyra and Bon-Bon opened the door and looked inside.

It was just a bedroom. A ratty old bed in one corner and a creaky wardrobe in the other. Next to the bed was a desk drawer piled up with newspaper clippings and a box of stuff, while closer to the door was a table with a pile of books sprawled across it and a tray of sweets resting on the corner.

Trotting into the room, Bon-Bon wondered if they had even been led to the right place.

"Is this it? Not much of a secret lair, especially when stacked up against the kind if stuff we have at HQ."

She approached the table and looked down, noting a number of open confectionary cookbooks laid out and angled atop a stack of Daring Do novels. She only gave them a passing glance before her eyes were drawn to a hoof-written recipe bearing the marks of numerous corrections and scribbles in an attempt to perfect the formula.

"... Wait a minute."

Bon-Bon stared at the list in shock as the measurements and ingredients began to take on a strange familiarity. Turning to the tray, she grabbed a sweet from the batch and popped in in her mouth, flinching at the powerful sherbet taste.

"This... This is one of my recipes. How did she... How could she know how to-"

"BB... Come here."

Bon-Bon turned around and approached the desk drawer where Lyra was looking through the box of things with a grim expression.

The first few things she saw didn't mean anything to her, just a few trophies and a rolled-up Wonderbolts poster, but then piled around that there was whole stack of things she recognized. There was the program for one of Lyra's concerts coupled with a stack of her records, a chunk of the fake Lunatron armor Bon-Bon had made for that year's nightmare night, the stack of newspaper clippings of Harpflank and Sweets' greatest accomplishments, one of the old models of Ex-Tech communicators from back when they first joined the agency, an old school photo album from before Bon-Bon had even gotten her cutie mark and so, so much more than she could even remember losing.

Lighting up her horn, Lyra levitated Bon-Bon's favourite mane-brush out of the box, still visibly covered in long strands of pink and blue hair. Lyra scrunched up her eyes and spoke in barely more than a whisper.

"She was stalking you too... I didn't even think-"

"You knew about this?!"

Lyra flinched as Bon-Bon looked aghast at her.

"I only knew she was stalking me... I thought if I could handle it myself then I could prove to you that I'm not going to get killed the second you turn your back on me. It’s just that you're so worried all the time I thought I could take care of this for you."

Bon-Bon felt her voice rising in pitch as her stress levels rose exponentially.

"Lyra, this is not the sort of thing you just keep to yourself! This isn't just regular creepy, it's dangerously so! You know the kinds of things that Surprise has done because of her fixation on us and this is just as bad!"

Lyra flinched and looked away.

"I thought if I told anypony, they'd just think I was being irrationally jealous of Maredowell... Again. I needed more proof to convince you."

"Oh, Lyra..."

She slid a hoof over her shoulder and pulled her into a hug.

"I'm so sorry for how I've been treating you. Ever since this stuff began with Surprise and Maredowell, I've been trying to protect you from your own idiotic stubbornness. But I forgot that that idiotic stubbornness is exactly what will get you through anything, and do so far better than any overprotectiveness of mine."

Bon-Bon drooped her ears as her worries struggled inside of her. Eventually, she took a deep breath and tried to smile.

“You may have been an idiot for making me feel as if I can’t trust you to look after yourself, but I’m just as much of an idiot if I made you feel like you can’t trust me with any of your big problems.”

Lyra also tried to smile.

"Does that mean we're cool now?"

Bon-Bon let go of the hug and looked around warily.

"I don't think I can ever be completely 'cool' when I'm in a stalker's bedroom, but in terms of your mess-ups, I think I've punished you enough."

Stepping back, she reached into her saddlebags and pulled out her communicator.

"I should contact the Commander about this... disturbing development."

Flipping open the lid, the device connected through, showing a hologram of the Commander frowning as she looked over some files on her computer terminal. Holding up the communicator so its camera could take in the damning evidence, Bon-Bon took a deep breath and spoke.

"Commander, Harpflank and I have some new information about Maredowell."

"You're not the only ones. Redheart just got back from 'borrowing' some files from our friends in the EDA. I'm taking a look through them now and there's something you really need to know about-"

There was a splintering crash from behind her as Lyra ripped the wardrobe doors off their hinges. Turning around, Bon-Bon looked over in concern and saw that Lyra was standing very still, gripping onto the broken doors with her forehooves as her pupils shrunk to pinpricks.

Lyra began to shake as she stared down at the golden stringed instrument laying at the bottom of the wardrobe.

"I... I was using it just last night... At the concert. Was she just waiting for me to leave my apartment before she... She..."

The wooden doors splintered more as she tightened her grip in cold fury.

"Why?! Why is she doing this? What does she want from- Rrrgh!"

Lyra dropped the doors, clutching at her head as a shot of pain coursed through it. Dropping the communicator, Bon-Bon rushed to her side.

"Lyra? What's wrong? Lyra!"

Lyra turned to the door, her face twisting in anger.

"She's here."

Planting her hooves on the floor, Lyra reared back and pounced. In an instant she launched herself across the room at top speed, exploding through the door in a shower of splinters. Before Maredowell could react, Lyra bodyslammed her at full pelt, sending the both of them flying down the adjacent stairway and clean through the dilapidated wooden steps. A few moments of tumbling and they reached the ground floor, landing hard on the floorboards and bouncing off one another to go sprawling across the base of the stairwell.

Being the first to get up, Lyra towered over Maredowell, reaching down and grabbing her head with both hooves as she lifted her up off the ground. She growled, swiftly dragging Maredowell behind her as she ran at full speed and slammed her face into a wall.

Rearing back on her hind legs, she pulled the masked face out of the dent it had made in the brickwork before putting her whole weight behind a horizontal stomp that smashed her face right back in there. Then she pulled out and did it again. And again. And five more times.

In a few seconds, there was significantly more crater than there was wall.

Just as it looked like the wall was going to crumble, Maredowell lit up her horn and flung her sizable hat right into Lyra's face, blinding and smothering her long enough to let Maredowell slide out from her grasp.

Lyra felt a hoof impacting into her gut and hopped backwards just in time to avoid a follow-up swing to her jaw. Using her own magic, she ripped the hat off of her face and charged Maredowell with a pair of rage-fueled punches. She blocked one, deflected the other and the followed up with a staggering hook to the jaw.

Falling back, Lyra tried to dart away but Maredowell was fast enough to dart in, draw back her hoof and... Take both of Bon-Bon's hind hooves to the ribcage as she leapt from the top of the stairs and drop-kicked Maredowell clean through the damaged wall.

As the dust settled, Maredowell stood back up and shook herself off, eyeing her opponents through the hole in the wall. In a flash of light, her horn disappeared, transforming into an earth pony as she widened her stance and braced herself for combat.

In answer, Harpflank and Sweets dashed forwards in unison, closing on Maredowell and clashing in a frenzied blur of super-speed attacks.

They fought hard, sometimes taking a hit or two when Maredowell simply tanked one of their attacks to gain an opportunity to land one of her own. However, this was few and far between as their teamwork was impeccable, reforged by forgiveness and shared anger. With lightning speed, one of them would dart in and harry their foe and then just as quickly leap back out of range in time for the other to attack from a blind spot or another angle.

Lyra would get Maredowell to chase after her just so Bon-Bon could grab a hold of Maredowell's cape and yank her back, forcing the pony to rear up perfectly in time to meet Lyra's spinning dive-kick to the face. Then, when she recovered with a retaliating move, Lyra would drop a flashbang at her hooves to distract Maredowell long enough for Bon-Bon to soften her up with a string of brutal body-blows.

No matter what she did, they made sure that Maredowell could not focus on either one of them, and through their synergy, made sure that she also could not handle the both of them.

Reaching into her bags, Lyra pulled out a couple of grenades and rolled them across the floor as she magically pulled the pins. Avoiding the explosion, Maredowell leapt into the air, almost scraping the cracked and mouldy ceiling as she glanced up to see... both of Bon-Bon's forehooves come smashing down on her, driving her back into the ground with a hearty wham.

Maredowell stumbled to her hooves, dazed as she tried to stand. She then immediately wished she hadn't when both Harpflank and Sweets leapt in and smashed their hooves into opposite sides of her head at the same time. Experiencing extreme concussion, Maredowell staggered, hardly moving as Lyra and Bon-Bon took a step back and then lunged forwards, spinning around and dealing two combined finishing kicks, striking both high and low as they sent Maredowell flying through a doorway and into the next room where she landed on a cluttered table with a cringe-inducing crash.

Her face consumed by a signature grin, Lyra turned to her partner and raised a hoof.

"Hey, Sweets, are we back?"

Bon-Bon smiled in kind and bumped the offered hoof with her own.

"Yes, Harpflank... We are most certainly back."

Trotting through the door, they saw that Maredowell was lying in a pile of broken junk and broken table, her pointed hat having fallen down over her face as she lay there, presumably ruminating on the chain of mistakes that had led up to this embarrassing moment.

“Hey, eyes up stalker. This is the part where you come quietly with us or we pound you some more.”

Deflating slightly, Maredowell tipped up her hat and nursed some of her bruises. For a second, it looked like she was about to get up, but then she paused, noticing a strange purple glow shining through from under her cape.

Maredowell flipped her cape over her legs and lifted up the small cube object she had taken earlier. Her crash landing seemed to have damaged it, making the outer shell crumble inwards. The damage revealed that the cube was mostly hollow, but with something inside sending the strange glow pulsing out from the hole.

Hastily, Maredowell tore open the side of the box, revealing a small device lined with interconnecting conduits of Moonrock alloy, built around a central crystal that intermittently flashed with arcs of arcane power.

Bon-Bon backed up a step.

“Whoa, what is that? Is that a weapon?”

For a single moment, the image of a draconic eye flashed inside the crystal, and with the echo of a diabolical laugh, the device began to pulse with rapidly increasing regularity. Her eyes widening behind her mask, Maredowell dropped the crystal and ran, darting between Harpflank and Sweets as she raced for a window. With less than a second’s hesitation, Lyra and Bon-Bon followed her.

In one swift instance, night seemed to fall on Metropony as all ambient light surrounding the abandoned university was inexorably sucked into a single point, drained and consumed by the crystal as the full power of its dark master was unleashed onto a reality wholly unprepared for magic of this caliber.

Just as the campus seemed to have been completely lost to the endless void, the crystal shattered. A shockwave of magic erupted from within the dark, spreading out in a blinding ring of galaxies and nebulae that tore through the walls of the dormitory like a hot chainsaw through butter.

As Lyra dived for the window she could no longer see, she felt the telltale feeling of another pony crashing into her, pushing her down as the shockwave passed overhead. Only inches away from an arcane representation of a billion burning stars, Lyra felt part of her mane burn off and her skin break out in painful blisters.

Sliced clean through, the dormitory... and every other previously-standing building on the campus all collapsed in on themselves, finally completing the destruction of the historical Met-University that Harpflank and Sweets had started a year prior.

Let it never be said that those two left a job unfinished.

In amongst the rubble of a wrecked dormitory, Lyra reached up and pushed the cracked remains of somepony’s bathtub to one side, freeing up her battered chest, though unfortunately not dislodging the pony laid over her hind legs. She blinked her eyes up at the night sky, somehow not surprised that a blast of alicorn magic that powerful had managed to end the day two hours early.

“Luna really does give out the absolute worst gifts...”

Groaning in the unique way of a pony with bruised ribs, Lyra ‘pffthed’ and ‘ppbbthed’ at the blue and pink curls of hair that were laying across her face.

“Urggh... BB, could you get your tail out of my face?”

From her left side, Lyra could hear the sound of a collapsed wall being rolled to one side, followed by an equally bruised answer.

“I’m over here, Lyra...”

Lyra brushed the tail from her face and looked over at Bon-Bon in disbelief.

“What?”

Now able to see properly, Lyra sat up and looked down at the pony sprawled over her. Maredowell had been hit really hard by the explosion, leaving a nasty burnt scar across her chest and numerous cuts and scrapes along the various shredded components of her costume. The largest tear along her rear had been what allowed her eerily familiar tail to spill out of its confinement. It was cut shorter than the one Bon-Bon had and was spewing forth from the base of her now bare blue-furred flanks. Like the costume, the flanks were kind of scraped up, but that wasn’t what held Lyra’s attention. Unable to look away even as she slid out from under Maredowell, Lyra couldn’t help but notice how blank they were.

“What?!”

Equally baffled, Bon-Bon trotted over to the fallen pony. She and Lyra locked eyes, silently communicating a ’should I/shouldn’t I’ over the span of three seconds. Reaching a decision, Bon-Bon reached down and grabbed a hold of Maredowell’s mask, slowly pulling it up and off of her head.

Lyra’s brain stopped working. Some part of her registered that Bon-Bon had dropped the mask and stumbled back in shock, but she was too busy with dumbly staring to decide on whether this had any particular relevance.

Her fur may have been light blue, and she... at least at the current time, may not have been wearing her horn, but there was no mistaking that face... or the mint-green mane, streaked with white.

It was the face she saw when she looked in the mirror.

“... What.”

Scene 10

Trixie had a generally low opinion of prisons. On general principle, her preferred method of justice was of the more swift and brutal kind, so the stark contrast of indefinite imprisonment seemed both tedious and impractical.

Having now spent a total of seven minutes inside of a prison, Trixie found her opinion dropping even lower as the drab conditions and contemptible company drained all of her remaining patience for the farcical day-trip they were calling her ‘incarceration.’

Head held high, Trixie barely stumbled as the more easily-irritated member of her police escort physically threw Trixie into her cell and slammed shut the door behind her. Breathing a sigh of belated relief, Lieutenant Rights straightened her posture and spoke, feeling her wings flutter slightly in the satisfaction of a job well done.

“Trixie Lulamoon, your crimes against Equestria are numerous and extensive and demand a higher punishment than our city can readily provide for you. As such, you are to be detained in this cell indefinitely until such a date as Princess Celestia can be present to personally preside over your trial and pass proper judgement.”

Feeling a rush of righteous pride, she then narrowed her eyes and added a personal addendum onto the end.

“For what it’s worth, I hope you rot in Tartarus for all you’ve done.”

Trixie rolled her eyes, making a chewing motion as she worked at the roof of her mouth with her tongue. If anything, the real punishment they were giving her was sticking her with a pony this sickeningly in love with their job.

“Host as many trials as you like, Trixie only recognizes the authority of one princess, and her favor reaches Trixie even here!”

Miranda snorted, resting her head against the bars of the cell.

“What, are you counting on your master to break you out of here?”

Trixie gave the mare a look that would bring to mind the word ‘condescending’ if it were not so overloaded with sensations of contempt.

“The Great and Powerful Trixie is the most intelligent, capable and breathtaking pony in Equestria. My lady Luna respects Trixie too much to simply hoof Trixie her victories free of charge! Neigh, instead she presents Trixie with opportunities to excel and to demonstrate Trixie’s spectacular potential!“

The foundations of the prison shook as the sound of a massive explosion reverberated through the bones of everypony present. Smugly glancing out of her cell window, Trixie beheld a ring of Lunar magic spreading out across the sky from within the heart of the city. Spreading out to the far horizon, the wave of magic seemed to strike the sun itself, hastening its journey beyond the rim of the western horizon, left only to lick its wounded pride after receiving the magical equivalent of a celestial boot-up-the-arse.

Trixie grinned as her captors gave their predictable pathetic response to this demonstration of her gracious benefactor’s obvious superiority.

“What... What the hay was that?!”

Still chewing and working at the roof of her mouth, Trixie deigned to enlighten them.

“Trixie would assume that Princess Luna had laid a trap in retaliation for the constant interference of that foal, Maredowell. A mere trifle of My Lady’s magic should have been prudent to serve as an example, a distraction and...”

Trixie ceased in her chewing as she finally worked the tracking device free from the roof of her mouth, spitting the pill-sized device to the floor shortly before twisting the tip with her hooves.

“... an opportunity.”

Thundering hooves shook the facility as a three-story metal behemoth bounded from the forest surrounding the prison and broke out into a sprint. Alarms sounded and perimeter guards scrambled for their weapons as they beheld the sheer mass and momentum of the Lunatron galloping their way.

This particular model was Trixie's personal prototype rescue and recovery reserve robot. A sleek and nimble model that traded extra armor plating for fully articulated joints and had a long, prehensile tail for additional dexterity and whip-like attacks. Its pointed face bore pointed, luminous blue eyes and the glowing maw of its plasma-emitting jaw hung open in a permanent aggressive hiss. Fitting then, that it was called the PPRRRR, as it was as agile and ferocious as any riled-up wildcat.

As it reached full speed, the PPRRRR leapt clean over the perimeter wall and slid to a halt in the main prison yard, tearing through several fences and a prison basketball court in the process. The guards quickly gathered their wits and opened fire on the Lunatron, but even this model’s lesser armored shell was still strong enough to deflect their bullets harmlessly. Its sensors detecting the hostile action, the Lunatron turned on them with a synthesised snarl.

Quick as a whip, the Lunatron spun in place, lashing out with its elongated tail and slicing clean through a guard watchtower, the slice sending it crumbling sideways and cutting off any firearms that had previously been firing from inside.

The PPRRRR then systematically moved from tower to tower, pouncing with speed and accuracy too lethal to be contested by any of the prison’s mediocre defences. Any remaining forces were cleaned up when rocket launchers slid out of the sides of the machine and loosed a volley of heat-seaking missiles into any pockets of resistance. In a final act, the Lunatron stepped up to the walls of the prison block and vomited a stream of plasma, starting from the ground floor and slowly trailing upwards before cutting out with a flash.

This precision beam melted the magically-reinforced concrete in such a perfect way as to collapse the outer wall of Trixie’s cell and create a hole large enough for the Lunatron to stick its head in and bare open the cockpit for its waiting master. Regaining her wits, Lieutenant Rights fumbled for her gun, whole seconds faster than the other stunned guards. But sadly her best efforts were not fast enough to beat out one of two drone-class Lunatrons that leapt from the waiting cockpit and loosed a explosive plasma-bolt at the cell door, blasting it off of its hinges and flinging Rights and her companions into the bars of the cell opposite.

The last thing Rights heard before she blacked out was Trixie’s mocking voice as the other drone stepped forwards to break apart her hoof-bindings and then get to work on breaking her magic-limiter.

“You see? Trixie told you that you should have kept Harpflank and Sweets around to keep an eye on her. But instead, they’re now too preoccupied to stop Trixie from escaping.”

The drone broke off the limiter, allowing Trixie to light up her horn and levitate the fallen policemare’s taser up before vehemently jamming it into her neck.

She watched the pony convulse for a few scant moments before releasing her grip and turning back to her escape route. Letting loose her best evil grin, Trixie set one hoof on the opened cockpit and prepared to leap inside.

“Looks like Trixie is a free mare once again...”

Completely overcome with her sense of triumph, it came as a complete shock to Trixie when she almost fell three stories from the torn-open prison wall after a living forest plowed into the side of her getaway machine.

The PPRRRR slammed down onto its side, cockpit sliding closed as the AI resumed control. Pounced on top of the Lunatron, Twig Monster ground his thorny fangs into the servos of the Lunatron’s neck, ingrained instinct commanding him to bite harder in anticipation of a rush of blood that would never come. His prey struggled to rise, pinned down by his greater weight as its programming ran through the dozens of attack strategies suited for this larger opponent.

Twig Monster yelped in shock as the Lunatron’s rocket launchers fired upwards into his exposed underbelly, finally shaking him loose as the PPRRRR scrambled to its hooves and rounded on the Titan Timberwolf.

Raising its head, the PPRRRR swept its plasma beam right-to-left across the prison courtyard, mutilating the outer wall and slicing clean through Twig Monster’s leg in a burst of flames. With the wolf off-balance, PPRRRR completed its sweep and transitioned it into a spin, lashing out with its tail yet again as it caught Twig Monster on the face and knocked him sprawling to the ground.

The Titan snarled, nursing his wounds as the Lunatron powered up its plasma for a killing blow.

But before the beam could fire, Twig Monster threw back his head and howled, his dark magic pouring into the ground and calling forth a torrent of rising Plundervines that wrapped around the PPRRRR and locked it in place, re-directing its plasma harmlessly into the air.

Slowly Twig Monster rose back up to his paws, waves of sickly green magic dowsing the fires on his body and seamlessly reattaching his severed leg. The Lunatron twitched and spasmed in the ensnaring vines, watching with helpless eyes as Twig Monster growled from deep within his throat. But rather than pounce, he stopped, glancing briefly over the robot’s shoulder before breaking out in a predatorial grin.

For it was at that moment that Leaf Monster leapt up from behind the Lunatron and bit its head clean off.

Still in her cell, Trixie looked on with mounting horror as the two Titans dismantled her precious Lunatron, their snarls fading into the background of her perception as a third such monster lowered himself down and narrowed his eyes at the tiny pony. At her sides, the two drone Lunatrons tried to raise their plasma blasters, but instead were crushed into scrap by a web of vines that shot out from the towering beast.

Frozen with shock, Trixie let her eyes be drawn to the white pegasus seated atop the creature’s head, gently stroking his car-sized ears with her hoof.

“Woah, easy Bulbasaur... We don’t want to frighten her, after all. This is a jailbreak... of sorts.”

Finding her voice, Trixie spluttered in outrage.

“What... What is the meaning of this?!”

Surprise flapped down from Bulbasaur’s head, spinning her forehooves in a sort of winch motion as she tried to explain.

“You see, I don’t really know myself, actually. But that is the beauty of the whole thing! You and me, figuring out what I’m planning to do to you together! Like a big, happy united team... but not.”

She circled around Trixie, pondering in mid flap.

“You see, this isn’t really the jailbreak you were expecting. Harpflank and Sweets, they’re one side of the coin... You’re the other. Both sides propagate the cycle of predictability plaguing this city.”

She cycled back to the front, cupping Trixie’s chin with a hoof.

“I tried breaking Harpflank and Sweets, but that didn’t pay off so much. So now, I need to work the other angle. If I‘m to break Metropony’s chains, I’ll need to work out how to break... You.”

Trixie’s eyes flashed. She had no gadgets, no smoke bombs, no Lunatrons and no backup. Yet despite being horribly outmatched, Trixie lit up her horn and prepared to fight.

“How dare you lay a hoof on the Great and Powerful-”

At this, Surprise backhoofed her across the face, knocking Trixie down long enough for Surprise to reach into her tail and draw forth a butter-stained machete with the pointy end pressed to Trixie’s throat.

“Ah-ah-ah, no sass-back, Trix.”

Surprise leaned in, just barely avoiding slicing Trixie’s throat at she tilted the blade up against her chin. A malicious grin bled out into her cheeks, as if caused by liquid madness leaking out from the holes in her fractured mind.

“You see, I’m your prison warden from now on.”

[Credits roll

NEXT WEEK ON HARPFLANK AND SWEETS

"Oh wow, you just made it even creepier... How did you manage to make it creepier?!"

“You incompetent, impudent imbecile-”

"Hold on, Trixie! We're here to save you!"

“Yes, you’re both very important to me... I have big plans for the both of you.”

TUNE IN FOR THE NEXT EXCITING EPISODE OF… HARPFLANK AND SWEETS]

Coming soon: Episode 33: Surprise Party!
My Little Pony Belongs to Hasbro

Episode 11: Heart of Winter

HARPFLANK AND SWEETS

Created by Arcainum
Written by Supersheep64

Opening Titles

Metropony City! Mighty skyscrapers towering over the millions of ponies going about their lives on the streets below! Working, playing or just taking in the weather, Metropony bustles as only the big city can. But! All is not well in this equine metropolis! Below the streets lies a threat - a threat to the happiness and friendship of good ponies everywhere! And the name of that threat is Luna, the exiled Princess who has returned with vengeance in her eyes! With the aid of her villainous helper Trixie and her army of terrible Lunatrons, She will stop at nothing to destroy the pony way of life! Standing against her, however, are two heroic mares, known only to the citizens of Metropony as...

HARPFLANK AND SWEETS: EPISODE 11- HEART OF WINTER

Scene 1

There was a blizzard over Metropony. Like many blizzards, it was cold. Like many blizzards, it was blustery. Unlike many blizzards, it wasn’t stopping.

Day after day, never once relenting all week. Colder and colder, frostier and frostier. Never before had so much snow fallen in such a short span. Ponies abandoned their jobs, burying themselves in their beds and citing illnesses both real and fictitious as excuses for their absence. Water pipes froze, antenna fell from roofs and all stores citywide instantly sold out of hot cocoa.

Things got so bad that the mayor was forced to dust off the Winter Wrap Up protocols months in advance. Though, with the snow showing no signs of stopping, it seemed like the only wrapping up being done was on the ponies themselves, forced to clothe up for even the shortest of trips. It was clearly an omen of dark times that, for the first time in Equestrian history, public nudity was at an absolute zero.

Against this backdrop, two ponies braved the howling winds, dragging a sack behind them as they trudged through the snow-ridden pavements of the Metropony suburbs. On the road next to them, a snowplow roared past and unheedingly sprayed them with a fresh deluge of the wintery powder.

Save for their winter clothes, the ponies were camouflaged perfectly against the snow, their pure white coats and pale pink manes doing little to signify their presence in the howling gale. Shaking off the grasp of the snow wave, the taller, a unicorn, lit up her horn to melt away a path. The pink glow warming their bodies, she and the smaller mare trudged on as her earthen companion heaved the heavy load through the wake of her spell.

Several minutes later, the shivering ladies caught sight of their destination, a poorly-repaired mansion on the fringes of the city. They walked through the missing gate, hauling the sack up the front stairs and through the ornate entranceway. Setting the cargo down, the two ponies braced themselves against the double doors, shoving them closed against the ruthless force of the biting wind.

Shedding their scarves and hats, they paused to catch their breath with a relieved sigh. The unicorn, rising to her full height, was almost double the size of her companion. Her long graceful legs, slender body and dainty lengthened muzzle hinted at a trace of foreign ancestry... Perhaps even with the exotic ponies of the Saddle Arabias. Even weathered by the gale, she was stunningly beautiful, her mane falling in soft waves and her big, doe-like eyes filled with warmth.

Her name was Fleur, and she had once been a fashion model. Now, she no longer stood in the spotlight... And she glowed all the brighter because of it.

Levitating the heavy sack from the grip of her friend, she paused to speak.

"Thank you, Red. I... I really don't know how we... How I could keep going without you. You don't have to do this..."

Redheart gave a small, sad smile, removing her hoof-boots before gently and firmly pressing her hoof directly over Fleur's heart. Although she said nothing, the message was clear enough.

"Neither do you."

The laboured sound of heavy coughing drew the mares from their moment. Breaking off their touchy-feely contact, they walked out of the entrance foyer and into the main hall of the mansion.

The hall was truly cavernous, covering three full stories of the house and subsequently bridging them all with a massive winding staircase that encapsulated the room. Dotted around in lines, massive marble pillars held up the painted ceiling, and along the walls were a multitude of alcoves and nooks where garish ornaments and great works of art could be hung.

However, those places were empty now and the hordes of possessions that could loosely have been described as 'art' had all been sold. There was no remorse over their loss. There simply came a day where their owners had needed to re-assess their priorities. Instead, the hall was filled with something even more precious.

Huddled around fires and wrapped up in whatever they could find was dozens and dozens of ponies. Mules, donkeys and even the occasional griffon joined them, huddling together without regard in any sort of communal circle they could latch on to.

Fleur walked through the crowd, looking with concern on those she had taken into her care. Some coughed and spluttered, some mumbled to themselves, and others hardly moved at all.

The house itself had belonged to her husband, passed down from his grandfather, along with a history and a list of names so long that even the family's odious titles paled in comparison. Now however, the mansion bore only one name that mattered.

Sanctuary.

In the corner of the hall, a battered radio mumbled out news though bursts of static. A scant few ponies stole glances at its cracked dials as they huddled around the fire, but many of them were so lost in thought that they never even noticed the sound.

'-Criticism continues to fall on Mayor Mare over her perceived inaction to combat the still intensifying blizzard bearing down on Metropony City. This winter, the coldest since records began, has forced Princess Celestia to issue a nation-wide no-fly policy rather than to risk altitude fliers freezing up on normally routine journeys. This, and the subsequent grounding of Cloudsdale has disrupted all Weather patrols and allowed unscheduled storms free reign over Equestrian airspace.'

As the radio fizzled out again, Fleur reached the far side of the room and hefted the well-earned sack onto a small wooden table in what she had roughly converted into a working kitchen. Tying her mane back into a tail, she pulled out fresh-ish vegetables from her hoard and began chopping them into a soup over a magic-powered stove.

The smell of cooking roused some of her residents, who shuffled away from their rest to queue up for a taste of the warming stew. Fleur had to stifle a frown though, when she saw how many stayed where they were, shivering in the firelight despite all of the appetising stimulus wafting through the air.

With the ever decreasing temperatures, sickness was spreading with all the promiscuity and charm of a lewd joke. Even with all she had to give, Fleur was far from certain how many of these needy faces would still be there to greet her when she awoke tomorrow.

Shedding her heavy coat, Redheart hurried into the throng, reaching into a small pouch for medicines and equipment as she sought out patients in the crowd. Arriving by the side of a coughing child, Redheart gently spoon fed him a dose of liquid from her mysterious stash. In moments, the young one seemed to relax and smiled as he drifted off to sleep.

Although Redheart claimed that she simply 'borrowed' the supplies from her work, Fleur had never seen or heard of any hospital that boasted such advanced medicine as that which Redheart practiced. Despite enquiring about her job many times, Fleur had never received any answer about the source of the medical miracles, leaving her only to be thankful that they did exist.

The static on the radio died down again, letting everypony once more distract themselves with the two-day-old news being played out yet again by the desperate networks. You could hardly blame them for their stagnation, in this weather nopony was being stupid enough to go outside and actually do anything newsworthy.

'In an interview earlier today, the Mayor claimed that all her efforts were focused on keeping the roads clear. Her priority is to make sure that ponies will not become trapped in their homes, and that much-needed supplies can still be transported to and from the city. In related news, billionaire entrepreneur Filthy Rich is hosting a charity fundraiser in city hall tomorrow night. The money raised is going to be used to construct shelters to deal with the rising numbers of homeless caused by the ongoing struggle against the Lunar Empire...'

“-Careful, you clumsy girl!"

Fleur blinked, zoning back in on her soup-serving. She flinched, yanking back the ladle that was spilling boiling soup over the hooves of the enraged donkey waiting in line. Dropping it back into the pot, she floated over some paper towels to wipe the searing stains from his coat.

“Oh my goodness! I’m so sorry, I just... The radio and-”

“Never mind! Just... Back off and give me the soup so I can get on with my meal!”

Fleur wilted. The star of the catwalk, a paragon of grace and poise... And yet the mere mention of that name could distract her like this. She composed herself, performing the simple in-out breathing exercise taught to her by an old friend before returning to her food-distributing duty.

As she poured him another bowl of broth, her eyes flicked over to the eternally-drooped face of the donkey nursing his wounded hooves. As if sensing her attention, Cranky flashed her a snarl as he hid his burns under layers and layers of heavy mismatched coats.

“Hurry up, you’re holding up the entire queue with your dithering! Some of us have places to be, other than enjoying your so called ‘hospitality’!”

Cranky, although one of the older tenants at the Sanctuary, was in surprisingly good health, perhaps thanks to his notoriously thick skin that refused any illness or compassion passage through his body. Aside from the wrinkles of age, his only physical ailment was his baldness, which he currently covered with a thick woolen cap and denied with unwavering passion. Though he refused to talk about his past, it was not hard to see that the stress which caused his loss of hair was caused by the loss of something far more precious to him.

Fleur slid him over his bowl and he turned to leave with a resounding ‘humph’. However, Fleur snagged his foreleg, forcing his attention before he could storm off.

“You haven’t found her yet?”

Cranky’s eyes widened in shock, a faint crack in his demeanor letting out the barest glimmer of pain before the doors slammed shut once more.

“I don’t know who you’re talking about.”

Fleur searched his face before levitating over a warmed hot water bottle from near the recently relocated sink and sliding it inside the layers of his coats.

“If you’re going back out there, you’ll need this.”

He scrunched his face up almost anticipation of tears that would never come, the wrinkles of his face deepening until age and weariness had consumed all trace of his anger and sorrow.

“... Thank you for the soup, miss.”

He shambled off into the crowd, one untold story among hundreds. Sighing, Fleur returned to her task, slowly working through the ranks of huddled strays and castaways as the night drew on and on and on. Eventually, she ran out of soup before she ran out of mouths, forcing her to drag out dry biscuits from the pantry and hoof them around to the greatly disappointed clients still waiting for their share.

Eventually, things began to settle down as her tenants tucked in for the night, heaping their bowls by the side of the room as they curled around their fires in a vain hope to find rest in the howling storm. Fleur cleaned up the waste, wiping down the serving table with a dishcloth as her horn lifted and scrubbed dozens of bowls at a time before stacking them neatly in the cupboards she had moved from the mansion’s original kitchen when the deterioration of the building had made the room unusable.

Looking out over the sleeping horde, she felt a sense of contentment in her work. Despite all the hardships, for this one, single moment, her world seemed to be at peace.

The front doors slammed open, releasing a torrent of windy ice and icy wind that coated the floor and blew in a tornado of snow-dampened street trash every which way. Any residents not comatose from exhaustion flinched at the sound, waking from their dreamless sleep to blearily gaze into the biting wind with one unanimous sentiment.

‘Oh come on! What is it now?’

Sauntering in through the gale, an earth pony, filled with unhealthy confidence, flauntingly stripped off his winter jacket and dismissively dropped it in one of the fires as he forced his way through the sleepy crowd. Similarly, but less expensively dressed bodyguards flanked his passage, using their massive bulk to push back the panicked refugees and clear a path through the sea of bodies.

Although she was preoccupied, Fleur thought she heard a whimper from the residents as they longingly stared at the wads of cash falling from the pockets of the burning coat.

His hair was rich with oil, slicked back like coat of an otter. His eyes were rich with greed, glinting in the firelight. His smile was rich with smug self-satisfaction and his breath rich with the scent of tobacco... Rich was his name, and it defined everything about him.

He was concieted, corrupt and repugnant, and it showed. Just one glance at the way he moved, he dressed, he sounded, he smelt, he tasted... Every sense overwhelmed with disgust the very instant he entered your vicinity. Filthy Rich knew this and he reveled in it. To him, the type of impression he made was unimportant, just so long as it was an impression that lasted.

He met Fleur's eye from across the room as he slid towards her. Smiling wider, Fleur became the full focus of his attention as he tuned out the incessant yapping of the small pink dog trotting obediently at his hocks.

She wasn’t actually a dog, but Fleur thought of her as such, because to call Rich's daughter by her full, four-letter title would be a breach of Fleur's refined nature.

"Daddy... You said you'd take me to the dress store! Why are we visiting here again? The ponies are all sick and gross-looking!"

Not taking his eyes off of Fleur, Filthy Rich patted his daughter on the head.

"Now now, Diamond, you know not to interrupt Daddy when he's doing business. And besides, all the stores are closed due to the weather, remember?"

Diamond Tiara glared at her father, unwilling to forgive any contact that almost jostled her eponymous jewelry from her head. The pair of them and their muscle bound entourage had finally made their way up to her serving counter, prompting Fleur to put on her best polite facade.

Feeling a nudge in her side, Fleur glanced to her right and saw that Redheart had somehow sneaked under everypony’s notice to mysteriously appear besides her. Shooting Fleur a questioning glance, she reached a concealed hoof under the counter to rest on the shotgun she kept in case of 'emergencies'.

Frowning ever so slightly, Fleur gently shook her head before turning back to the business stallion and his whining brat. As long as she was here, there was no need to resort to incivilities. She had lived thirteen of her adult years as an aristocrat, and if there was one thing that that experience had taught her, it was that there was nopony in all of Equestria who was vile enough to make her lose her composure.

Looking back to her unwelcome guests, she found that against all laws of common decency, it seemed that nopony had forced Diamond to shut up yet.

"Then why can't you just make them open?! These trips are pointless! It's the fourth time we've been here this week, and she always says no!"

Setting her opulent headwear back in perfect position, she turned her glower onto Fleur, pouting out her cheeks as she let her frustration boil.

"If you wanted her to be the new mommy, you should have just paid her off by now..."

Fleur's hooves scraped against the countertop, mentally amending her earlier assertion. In light of new discoveries, perhaps it was more accurate to say there was almost nopony vile enough to break her composure.

Rich gave a forced laugh before turning to his bodyguards.

"Boys, why don't you take my little pumpkin back to the car. It's getting late, and she's starting to say the craziest things."

Filthy turned back to his suffering host as two of his staff led the pampered princess back down the way the way they came. Sneering at every creature she passed, the little snot turned back once to stick her tongue out at Fleur before she was hustled out into the snow. Waiting until nopony was looking, Redheart glared the filly right back and returned the infantile gesture in kind.

With that distraction out of the way, Filthy rubbed his hooves together and began to talk business.

"So, is your husband still unable to join us tonight?"

He knew full well the answer, but it still got under Fleur's skin that he brought it up.

"Yes, he is still quite unwell, and unfit to entertain guests."

The sleazebag frowned at the news, faking deep sorrow. Coincidentally, if you had said that Filthy had made his fortune on bottling and selling insincere sentiments, there wouldn’t be a soul in Equestria that would question the validity of your assertion.

Reaching into his waistcoat, he pulled out two slips of paper and slid them across the counter insistently.

"That's a tragic shame, you know that he was once quite a successful partner of mine. I was hoping that the pair of you could make it to my charity event tomorrow."

Fleur took a calming breath, reluctantly grasping the tickets and cramming them under the counter, feeling that refusing the slips would only needlessly prolong the conversation.

"Yes... It's such a shame you bought out all the controlling shares in his company. If you had left him even a single resource then maybe you would still have the pleasure of doing business with him to this day."

Filthy chuckled, redundantly smoothing back his oiled-up mane.

"But I did leave him something. This entire estate was never a part of company property, so you had all this space to move in all your little... Friends here."

He rested his foreleg on the desk, leaning forward in a very poor attempt to be suave.

"... Which brings us back to our proposal. I'm franchising the business of homeless care here in Metropony, and I can't have you hogging up all my clientele. In this storm, the homeless are becoming a rapidly dwindling resource, after all."

Fleur screwed closed her eyelids, refusing to let her temper turn to tears in front of this monster. Instead, she pounded the desk, forcing him off his shoddy chat-up pose as she abandoned her fragile veneer of civility.

“You already own every other shelter in the city. Is your obsession with monopolising so great that you can’t even let us do the least bit of good in your absence? Or have you just not taken enough from my husband already?”

Filthy smiled wider, widening his forelegs in a gesture of sincerity.

“I just have other interests specific to the location of the property, is all. I don’t see why you’re so adamant about this, I already have dozens of new homes for these ponies to stay in.”

Fleur tore into him with her glare.

“All for appearances no doubt. You don’t actually care about any of them. How much have you actually put into these new 'shelters' of yours?"

Filthy pretended to be hurt by her words.

“Such baseless accusations! I expected better from you, Fleur. Charity is charity, after all."

Something that could almost pass for real concern crossed over his features as he leaned in to whisper so only she could hear.

"There’s no point martyring yourself for cause that isn’t in danger. Sign over the property, and I’ll even give you a nice place to sleep..."

“Get out.”

She rose to her full height, towering over the greasy stallion as she tore the apron from her neck and threw it to the ground. Settling into an aggressive stance, she made sure that he understood that this was an ultimatum.

"My husband owns this property. It has been ours since before your empire, and we are not giving it to you under any circumstance, do you understand?"

Filthy took a step back, tapping his hooves together in thought.

"Change is a part of life, my dear. You can't cling on to the diseased and dying."

His eyes flicked out over the homeless glaring at him through weary eyes.

"Entropy claims us all in time. Much better to wipe clean the slate and embrace new lives, new possibilities, new ownership of the world."

Feeling the comforting hoof of Redheart by her side, Fleur shook her head.

"It's not your world to take. Not so long as we still live in it."

Fleur stared him right in the eyes, as if daring him to say otherwise. Knowing when he's beaten, Filthy called his remaining bodyguards and appropriated one of their winter coats before turning and striding to the door.

"Interesting choice of words... You seem to have less squatters than the last time I was here. Maybe by this time next week, this 'world' of yours will have no one left to lay claim to it."

With his now-shivering henchpony in tow, Filthy threw open the doors again and disappeared into the howling gale.

Upon the departure of their visitor, the entry hall descended into a continuous rumble of concerned muttering. Letting her posture slip, Fleur held a hoof to her head and sighed.

That stallion had been contemptible enough when he was simply one of Fancy’s shareholders, but recently it seemed he was nothing short of a shark sniffing for their blood in the water. It was hard enough keep their sanctuary open before this storm hit, but if it kept up much longer...

Fleur’s face darkened. If nothing else, the increased frequency of Filthy’s visits was a sure enough sign that he could sense that they were at the end of their rope.

Feeling Redheart’s hoof once again on her shoulder, she saw that the smaller mare had slid over a tray with one last remaining bowl of soup...Though where Redheart had been hiding it was beyond her. With a small smile, the enigmatic nurse reassured her friend that she would hold down the fort, if only until the morning.

So, as Redheart set out to calm down their murmuring residents, Fleur levitated the tray and departed up the grand staircase. Pulling out her hair tie and letting her mane hang free, she let her weary hooves carry her through the winding paths of this ancestral home. Although she felt about ready to collapse then and there, she kept her eyes open, knowing that there was still one pony left to care for before she turned in to rest.

Scene 2

Outside the gates of the mansion, Filthy Rich and his remaining bodyguards made haste to the limousine parked in four parking spaces across the street. Although very large and impressive, the limo could hardly be seen as it was hidden behind a dense cloud of water vapor that steamed off the ground and surrounding air for a good, solid meter in all directions.

Designed to cut through the deepening snow, this limo was equipped with an incredibly expensive magical heater that, to the world at large, was still considered theoretical. Due to impracticality and lack of demand, there were only three of these devices in known existence.

Filthy Rich owned five.

Pulling off the coat yet again, Filthy passed it off to the trembling bodyguard as the stallion held the car door open for him. Sliding into the roomy interior of the vehicle, Filthy immediately fixed his gaze on his beloved daughter sitting across from him. His loving gaze soured a little as he noticed that his darling Tiara was eagerly messing with the settings on a rather large death ray.

“Daddy look! Auntie Trixie gave me this new toy! Can I go vaporize some blank-flanks? Can I?”

“...Perhaps later, darling.”

“Oh, don’t be so hard on the little tyke, Rich. She’s going to grow up to be a malicious little conqueror one day, just like Trixie.”

Putting his business face back on, Rich turned his attention to the intruder seated comfortably on the seat next to Diamond Tiara. Drinking casually from Rich’s personal wine bar and letting her gaudy cape drape over her lounging frame was his longstanding ‘business’ partner.

Smirking devilishly, Trixie set her hat on the seat next to her and flicked back her silver mane with narcissistic pride. Looking over Rich’s shoulder for a second, she motioned to the driver to start the engine. Even though she didn’t pay his wages, the driver knew who his real boss was. With no hesitation, he immediately pulled out of the parking spaces and began slicing a path through the fallen snow. Setting down her glass, Trixie struck up an a pointed conversation.

“Your darling daughter tells Trixie that your acquisition plans aren’t following through as you intended. Surely the richest stallion in Equestria can’t be denied this easily?”

“She’s slowly losing everything she cares about. She’ll break sooner or later, and then we’ll have what we need.”

Trixie humphed.

“We don’t have that long, Rich. Trixie’s forces are concealing their movements as best as they can, but if we wait any longer then we may not be able to finish our plans before the less moronic members of M.A.R.E catch wind of Trixie’s brilliant scheme. Trixie will not suffer another defeat that comes thanks to your uselessness!”

Rich raised a bushy, oily eyebrow at the insult.

“If we want to talk about uselessness, how about we talk about those huge, lumbering punching bags that you use all of my money to build. When was the last time one of those lasted longer than a couple of minutes, hmm?”

Trixie just snickered.

“If you are dissatisfied with the product, the Lunar Empire can always find another financial backer willing to pay for Trixie’s genius... One of your competitors, perhaps?”

Rich flinched slightly. Raising a hoof to his chin, he considered his options before breaking out in an evil smile.

“Alright, I’ll accelerate my negotiations. With a little assistance, we’ll own the property by tomorrow.”

Floating him a glass of wine, Trixie raised her own as she matched his grin.

“Trixie is listening...”

Scene 3

On a bleak Metropony rooftop, Lyra shivered.

Not limiting herself to just one involuntary reaction, she also shuddered.

Thinking back to the weeks leading into winter, Vinyl and Tavi had been mercifully quick to provide her and Bon-Bon with special snowsuits to protect against the cold. The blue fur-lined hood was pulled up firm over her head, and the matching boots were clutched firmly to her sides in a futile gesture of resilience. A set of high-tech snow goggles were clamped over the top of her mask to protect her eyes from the stinging snowflakes, and the remaining fabric was a complex nanoweave designed to insulate against even the most severe of sub-zero conditions.

It didn’t matter.

Lyra determinedly continued her patrol, battered by the bitter winds. Snot dripping from her snout, Lyra grudgingly admitted that this storm had surpassed the abilities of science to protect her. Against this kind of assault, there wasn’t a force on earth that could convince her body heat to stay inside her skin, where it belonged.

Shaking life back into her senseless hooves, Lyra hastily answered the bleeping call of her communicator. She took care not to drop it into the ever-rising snowbank, her limbs barely keeping hold as Derpy’s hologram winked into existence in front of her.

“Lyra, you haven’t reported in for hours! What’s your status?”

Opening her mouth, Lyra added ‘chattering’ to the list of involuntary reactions she was performing.

“F-Frozen, C-Com-mander.”

Derpy rolled her eyes. On her, this was an oddly hypnotic experience.

“I meant regarding the mission, Lyra.”

Lyra twisted the communicator round to face the street below, showing Derpy’s hologram an endless stream of trucks bringing much needed supplies to the snow-clogged city. As she turned the avatar back round to face her, Lyra chattered out her frustrations.

“Noth-ing. Nothing B-But snow, sn-now, and more f-f-freakin snow! I’ve bee-een stuck out h-here for hours a-and nothing ha-hap-happ-hatchoo!”

The holo-Derpy frowned at the build up of snot on the lens of the communicator, twitching her wings in irritation.

“Come on now, Lyra, it’s just a little bit of cold. I thought you were tougher than this!”

“E-Easy for you t-to say. You peg-as-asi are practical-al-ally built for crazy w-weather...”

She sneezed again, not-so-microscopic globules phasing through the head of the rather disgusted holographic pony hovering before her. Derpy raised a hoof to her chin in confusion.

“It’s strange, the tip we got was certain that Luna would try to raid that convoy. Without it, the city would be helpless against her demands...”

Lyra blinked the water from her eyes, hastily wiping away the goo dangling from her nostrils.

“L-Luna’s f-forces a-are probab-ab-ably as snowbound as everyp-p-pony else. I-If she was gonna a-att-ack she would have d-done it by now.”

Derpy conceded the point with a nod of the head.

“Fair enough. You and Bon-Bon can return to base, I need to talk with you about something.”

Derpy blinked, quickly glancing around the communicator’s field of view in confusion.

“Where is Bon-Bon anyway?”

Lyra rubbed her own shoulders, futilely striving to restore warmth to her precious organs as she shivered harder.

“S-She took shelter In a c-c-coffee shop t-two hours ago.”

Derpy gritted her teeth, displeasure evident in every pixel of her simulated being.

“Well, at least one of you held your post in the line of duty...”

“A-Actually, I lost the c-coin toss.”

“...”

“D-Don’t look at m-me like tha-ah-achoo!”

Derpy sighed.

“Just get back to HQ before you void the warranty on this thing with your goop, would you?”

Lyra gave a very jittery salute.

“O-On my way.”

She switched off the communicator, slipping it back into her saddlebags. Lyra shook off the snow gathering on her withers, swiftly rushing to the edge of the rooftop before leaping off to meet up with her friend.

As Lyra disappeared from sight, the mounting snow reclaimed the empty rooftop. The wind violently whipped around the tall spire, swirling the endless flakes into vague shifting shapes that deceive the eye. For the briefest of moments, the snow took the form of three majestic stallions, galloping through the storm.

The baleful illusion lingered for just long enough that their glowing eyes could be assumed to be following Lyra's trail before the fickle winds dispersed the deceptive image and spread the drifting snow out to every corner of the city.

Scene 4

Fleur trotted through the halls of Sanctuary, her hoofsteps endlessly echoing in the vast empty space.

The old house was on its last legs, having most of its rooms and facilities either buried under collapsing floors, or under risk of themselves collapsing at the slightest provocation. Only a few safe places remained, one being the majestic and sturdy entrance hall, and the other being the scant few bedrooms built to house the master of the house and his closest family.

All the other sleeping quarters had fallen away, consumed along with the ballroom into the unfathomable sinkhole that had finally outlasted the family’s stubborn refusal to pick up and move stakes to a more habitable patch of land.

Fleur cast the ballroom a thoughtful glance as she passed it, trotting along the upper balcony as she fearfully stared into the yawning abyss that could give even the pits of Tartarus a run for their money.

Finally reaching the master bedroom, Fleur turned and slowly reversed into the door, pushing it open with her rear as she brought the tray carefully through the doorway. Turning into the room proper, she couldn’t, and didn’t want to, hide a smile at the worn but handsome face of her darling Fancy Pants.
And the happiness he showed her was no less rewarding.

“My darling Fleur. It might be the fever talking, but I dare say you look more and more beautiful every time I see you.”

“You’re right, dear. It is the fever talking.”

Even though he was terribly sick, Fleur couldn’t resist leaning over to plant a tender kiss at the base of his horn.

It was a great blow to their continuing struggles that Fancy had been bedridden all week, having caught some crippling strain of flu almost immediately after the storm started. Of course Redheart had been only too eager to try and diagnose him a cure, but to the hushed healer’s extreme displeasure, even her uncanny knowledge was unable to prescribe anything for his mystery disease.

With no easy cure to work with, Fleur had had to work double for both of them, just to keep the Sanctuary open. It was no fun for him either for, as Fancy would put it, being patient zero of a new outbreak was a ‘rather unfortunate’ situation to be in.

Laying the soup at his bedside, Fleur was only mildly surprised to find Fancy nose deep in one of her old books, a small collection from her youth that was one of the few things they had not disposed of when they converted the mansion. The book's title had long since faded, and the words held no particular significance, but every page contained pressed flowers, perfectly preserved from the days she had first picked them.

"Fancy, what are you doing nosing through those old things? I've brought you many novels whose pages are not so needlessly floral."

Fancy widened his smile, discarding his monocle to the bedside as he beamed over to his wife.

"I'm just fascinated by your ability, my dear. You have such incredible talent."

Fleur blushed.

"It doesn't take much skill to press a flower."

"Not the act, the eye! You have the most uncanny way of seeing something truly special, and keeping it alive for everypony to appreciate."

Folding shut the book, she levitated it over to its stack before magically forcing the soup bowl into her husband's lap.

"Those flowers are not alive, dear."

Fancy looked at her, almost foolishly entranced.

"...But those ponies are."

Fleur had nothing to say to that. Humbled by his praise, she just sat and smiled as Fancy lifted a spoon and tucked into his meal.

Always a bit of a bleeding heart, her husband had become even more of a softie since his illness, shedding concern and compassion like a Persian in moult. Even simple things like these old memories now seemed to elate him, though Fleur would be lying if she said the devotion did not move her to live up to the love she could feel in him each day.

He slurped the soup, getting large quantities of it strained into his moustache. Normally he would use a spoon rather than shed his dignity, but his magic was drained from germ-fighting exhaustion and he would have been mortified beyond words to have anypony, even his wife, spoon-feed him his meals like an infant. He wiped his mouth with a tissue, which he added to a rapidly deepening pile of them before pushing the tray to the side with a contented moan.

“Absolutely delicious, Fleur! Why, you may well be an even better cook than I thought without me there to mess up your recipe.”

She tossed her mane distractedly. Ever since that stallion had taken almost everything they had, she had had little choice but to become a good cook. Although some of their servants had been kind enough to offer her pointers before they had left seeking new employment, Fleur had had to find her own niche among the world of spice and sauces and continued to evolve and experiment to this day.

Fleur frowned, as thinking about the past had only reminded her of the visit from their extremely unwelcome guest. Her tone of voice dropped into a whisper, an unnaturally depressed tone that had been trained into her from repeated conditioning at being the bearer of only bad news.

"He came around here again, Fancy."

Fancy’s expression darkened as well, the stallion in question one of the few things that he could still bring himself to dislike.

"Ah, him. Is he still hosting that abominable charity thing?"

Fleur let out a tough chuckle at the blunt honesty. It was always refreshing to hear him talk like this after so many years of living in ‘high society’, where you are not allowed to be quite so forward with your real opinions.

"He actually sent us tickets, if you can believe that. With you like this, and me barely even touched by the tabloids, he thinks we still have a place in his publicity nightmare?"

Fancy Pants coughed into a hoof, his cultured mustache flouncing with the motion, much like a happy seal clapping its fins together. Sadly, Fancy Pants was not feeling like a particularly happy seal at the moment. Following his coughing fit, Fancy lapsed into silence with a more serious and concerned expression on his face.

“Maybe you should go, dear.”

Squinting out of one eye, Fleur pressed the back of her hoof into his forehead.

“I think your fever might be worsening, Fancy. Maybe it’s time you got some sleep.”

“No, I’m serious, Fleur! You’ve been cooped up with me for far too long. You are a social creature, my love... And you have been running yourself ragged for far too long. Don’t you remember the days when you were the most influential wingless mare in Equestria?”

She huffed, giving her husband a withering look.

“I think you might be exaggerating.”

He smiled like the old fool he was, before pulling her in for a nuzzle.

“We both know that if you put your mind to it, you could have broken any relationship, ruined any career, passed any law... Or at least you could whenever you and Cadenza weren't constantly one-upping each other in your competition to be the ‘prettiest mare in the room’.

She pushed the snotty stallion away with a playful smirk.

“I think you mean ‘prettiest mare in Equestria’, Fancy.”

“Hmm, perhaps at a stretch.”

She lightly bashed him with a pillow, before returning to a state of general downward-dumpness.

“I almost wish I could... If only for the chance to undermine Filthy Rich at his own game. But I’m needed here. We can’t afford to hire any help, and even without her mystery job taking her away, Redheart can’t possibly take care of you and all the other sick ponies at once.”

Fancy gave a shuddering, phlegm-flecked sigh at his wife's depressive shift.

"I'm sorry, Fleur, but sometimes you need to learn to let go of the responsibilities you have burdened yourself with. What you are doing is admirable, it really is. But if you keep trying to keep so many others alive, you will never find the time to actually live your own life.”

He brushed her mane from her face with a caressing hoof.

“You are the most amazing mare in the world, but even you cannot save everypony in need of help."

She shook her head.

"No. I'll find a way... I have to."

Planting a final kiss on Fancy's cheek, she left him to the remainder of his meal and trotted from the bedroom.

Wearied from her trek and the varied chores of the day, she went straight to the guest bedroom across the hall and, stopping only to towel off the snow-left moisture from her mane, fell into the bed and was instantly out like a light.

Her exhaustion carried her dreamlessly through the draughty night and into the early hours of the morning. Snuggled warmly in her blankets, she awoke at the intrusion of cold hooves into her bed, wrapping around her in a strong, clutching embrace.

Shivering at the touch, Fleur mumbled out a reprimand of drowsy frustration.

"... Mmmh? Fancy, dear... You know you shouldn't be sneaking into my bed in your condition."

Ignoring her, the legs only seemed to tighten around her barrel, chilling her to the bone. As Fleur's senses came into focus, the howling of the winds outside seemed louder than expected, accompanying a strong draft that rustled the sheets and brought displeased wrinkles to her flawless face.

"Fancy, what did you do to get so cold? Did you open the window? You know you're not supposed to-"

She rolled over in the grip as it lifted her from the bed, bringing her face-to-face with the dark, robotic eyes of a Lunatron.

The drone's simple AI, recognising that its target was awake, pre-empted her scream and remedied the situation with a hoof across the face. Fleur slumped back onto the bed, her mane falling in a mess about her as she slipped into slumber for a second time.

The Lunatron's mechanical eyes refocused on the target, registering a change in heart rate indicative of unconsciousness. Satisfied that there would be no alert sounded inside the house, it turned to its secondary objective, pulling out a printed note from a storage compartment and laying it prominently on the pillow before turning back to the sleeping mare.

Slinging her over its back, the drone ran over to the window and leapt out into the wintery night.

Scene 5

Vinyl Scratch stared at the two blinking dots on the digitised map in front of her and contemplated homicide.

She wasn't picky in her scheming, as thoughts of countless other felonies drifted through her skull as she sat, transfixed. She blocked out everything around her in her concentration, discarding all sensation and perception of the world. She no longer felt the omnipresent numbing cold that pervaded all of M.A.R.E, seeping into her very bones. She no longer felt the faint warmth of the electric heater, or the rough texture of the blankets she clutched, cocooned around her statuesque body.

The only thing that concerned Vinyl at this very moment were thoughts of the most dark and vile crimes that could be imagined by pony kind. Vinyl’s fixation lasted for endless dragging minutes, not even so much as blinking as the time trudged past.

Wrapped head to hoof in chunky woolen clothes, Octavia paused to tend to the mare. Reaching into the blankets, she pulled out a tepid hot water bottle, sliding a freshly heated one in its place. Octavia paused expectantly for some manner of thanks, but was only met with frustrated disappointment. Sighing, she deposited a new, warm mug of cocoa next to the untouched, frozen one before wandering off to huddle by the heater, muttering to herself.

Having just walked into the command room, Bon-Bon stopped to consider the spectacle.

"What are you doing?"

Vinyl didn't turn around as she kept up her hypnotic vigil.

"I'm trying to get insight into the criminal mind in order to figure out what it is that Trixie's planning."

Octavia glanced up from her own hot beverage to scoff, the abominable conditions and sheer thanklessness of her companion adding more than a drop of bitterness to her tone.

"Perhaps you should reconsider your credentials in this matter. While I'm sure that if we ever needed insight into the juvenile mind, you would be the first pony on call, this situation may be a bit more than your photocopied psychological degree can handle."

Growling in frustration, Vinyl leapt from her nest of blankets, knocking them to the ground as she pounded a hoof on those two infernal dots.

"These energy readings have to mean something! All the Empire's usual dealings have ground to a halt and suddenly two 'unrelated' locations start setting off our sensors? This is fishy. This is really fishy. In fact, this is so fishy that given half a chance, we could track Trixie's location just by following the trail of hungry cats, it's so fishy."

Bon-Bon clapped her hooves together, backing away from Vinyl as she pressed her face right up into the screen, grimacing in suspicion.

"Okaaayy... Well, you keep doing that. Is the Commander still in her office?”

Octavia nodded.

“Where else? She only leaves to get more muffins before scurrying right on back. I think she may be planning on hibernating until the whole storm blows over.”

“I wish I’d thought of that.”

Ducking out of the room, Bon-Bon trotted through the corridors until she reached the reception of Derpy’s office. Seeing that Lyra was not yet here, she took the seat closest to the radiator and folded her forelegs stubbornly against the chill. Five minutes past in uncomfortable silence until the faint clatter of hooves signaled the arrival of her wayward companion.

“You’re late. Again.”

Lyra glanced at her through weary eyes, reaching back into her saddle bags to pull out a wad of crumpled paper that she held to her muzzle in a futile attempt to halt the flow of nasal emulsions endlessly dripping from her snout. Wheezing slightly, she spoke in the slowed and drawling manner of a pony with stuffed-up sinuses.

“I’m sorry... I had to stop on my way here to stock up on boxes of ti-tiss-achooos!”

Bon-Bon flicked snot from her mane, with an unamused glare.

“... Let’s just see what Derpy wants, shall we?”

Wilting further, Lyra didn’t even risk opening her mouth this time.

“Uh-huh.”

Unannounced, the pair of them barged into the commander’s office with little hesitation. Raising their brows, they found that the normally paper-strewn office had been buried under piles of crumbs, with only a few brave icons of furniture daring to peek out and identify the space as being the same office they knew and loved. The source of the invasion was plain as day, the entire back wall of the office being obscured behind pile after pile of familiar baked goods, stacked lovingly in some kind of holy shrine to all things sacred and muffinly.

Sitting, entombed at her desk was, of course, Derpy.

“Ah! Harpflank, Sweets, you made it. I was beginning to worry that we’d been snowed in so badly that you couldn’t enter the building.”

“We have. We only got in because the cleaning staff have taken to using Vinyl’s super laser to carve out a tunnel to the local Pony Joe’s.”

Derpy frowned, a cascade of muffins sliding down to the floor at her slightest movement.

“They aren’t authorised to use that equipment. How did they even figure out how?”

“I think the energy craving is sufficient motivation in itself.”

Sniffling, Lyra rubbed a bleary hoof over her face in impatience.

“Can we get to why you called us here, Commander? With no Trixie around, I‘d really like to get back to bed before I come down with full-blown pneumonia-ah-ah-”

Flinching in shock, Bon-Bon grabbed more tissues from Lyra's bag and stifled the sneeze before it could fully formulate. Spreading her wings defensively, Derpy growled out a reprimand as she tensed in an instinct of almost motherly protection.

“Kindly keep your slime away from my muffins, Lyra. These have to last me until we get thawed out and I would appreciate you not contaminating them."

She rose from her chair like a Demon rising from the pit.

"You wouldn’t want to see me without my muffins, now would you?”

For a second, the shadow of Derpy’s spread wings passed over Lyra and Bon-Bon, filling them with a profound feeling of dread. Shaking their heads they both spoke in unison.

“No, Commander.”

“Good.”

Settling back into her seat, Derpy pulled a muffin from the pile and chomped into it with authoritative conviction.

“Now as to why you are here, it’s because we can’t count on Trixie taking a snow day just yet. There is still a threat lurking somewhere in our city, and it’s our duty as agents of M.A.R.E to seek it out.”

Lyra deflated slightly.

“Are you sure I can’t take just a little nap?”

“You saw Vinyl’s suspicious readings, didn’t you? There’s something going on, and we need to be ready. Which is why I need you to take a special mission.”

She tapped at the table irritably, pausing as if reconsidering her proposal. Despite this she shook her head and proceeded anyway.

"Local entrepreneur Filthy Rich is holding a charity fundraiser tomorrow night at city hall. Most every important pony in the city will be there, and the Mayor is concerned that the Empire will take the opportunity to make a serious move."

Reaching into her desk, Derpy pulled out two invitations and slid them across the desk towards her agents.

"With the city locked down by snow, we really can't afford to lose any of these vital ponies... which is why I assured the Mayor that Harpflank and Sweets will be in attendance."

Lyra and Bon-Bon shared a look. Bon-Bon tried to put things delicately.

"It's a nice idea, Commander... But don't you think the party-goers might get the teensiest bit panicked when they see a pair of superheroes checking their punch and frisking ponies at the entrance?"

Derpy leaned back in her chair and smirked a little.

"Yes, which is why I've arranged for the invitations to be addressed to 'musical prodigy' and minor celebrity Lyra Heartstrings and her manager. Both of whom will be hopefully a lot more... subtle in their mission."

Lyra's jaw dropped.

"You mean I have to socialise? And I don't get to frisk anypony?! What a rip..."

After a second of pouting, Lyra's ears perked up.

"... And what do you mean, minor celebrity?!"

Ignoring Lyra’s protests, Bon-Bon glared at her boss.

"Commander, our agreement was that our civilian identities would not be involved in M.A.R.E. Business. Surely if the empire attacks this party, we would still be able to step in before things got out of hoof... Trixie isn't exactly 'subtle'."

Derpy shuffled the papers on her desk, not meeting Bon-Bon's eyes. More than usual.

"Well, we could put you on stakeout outside the building... But the fundraiser lasts all night and well, you know how cold it gets recently..."

"... Point taken."

Derpy rose, signalling that their meeting was over.

“Good luck, agents. Although the storm rages on, all of us will sleep sound in our beds knowing Harpflank and Sweets carry the weight of our fair city into a brighter, warmer tomorrow.”

Lyra whimpered, mopping at her nose with yet another tissue.

“Please don’t mention beds...”

Scene 6

Fleur had never felt colder in her life.

She awoke, face-down in the snow, with every extremity numb from the winter embrace. Spitting slush from her mouth, she literally cracked open her eyelids, feeling minute ice crystals break from her lashes as she stared into the impossibly drenched and matted mane that hung down over her face.

Twitching her disobedient legs into action, she tried to rise to her hooves, but her long, slender legs collapsed beneath her as twin metal hooves pressed into her shoulders and forced her down. Noiselessly gasping as her body went into shock, she shivered her way into a kneeling position and brushed aside the snow-clustered pink locks to better see her captors.

The two Lunatrons at either side of her were absolutely motionless, standing sentinel so impassively that if they hadn't already proved they had her restrained, she would have sworn that they had frozen solid.

Looking around, she could see that they were in a field in the middle of nowhere, presumably a few miles from the city limits, judging from the surrounding mountain range she could just about make out in the sky-dominating storm that blew around her.

Something else she could see was Filthy Rich sitting cross-legged on a fold-out chair as he slurped coffee from a thermos. Noticing her movement, a smile oozed out from his mouth like toxic waste oozing from a landfill.

"Ah, you're awake. Sorry about the early rise, but I really had to beat the traffic if I want to get this all done today."

Fleur's pain seeped out through her voice as she tentatively tried to shake warmth back into her tongue.

"Filthy... What have you done?"

He flicked a hoof and the Lunatrons threw her back into the snow. Rising from his chair, he trotted over and lifted her chin to his face.

"I prefer 'Mr Rich'."

She tried to bite his hoof, but he pulled away just in time. Tutting disapprovingly, he took a step back.

"Now, now... Any more of that and my associates will be forced to put you to sleep again. Which would be a shame, as I really want you to see this next bit."

He noticed her eyes shift to the two robots holding her.

"You're wondering about my new friends? Quite efficient, I must say. No complaints, no questions, no paycheck. Perhaps one day my entire workforce will look just like these."

Fleur felt a rising tide of bile in her throat as this contemptible stallion somehow managed to drill his way even lower into her esteem, covering the hole in layer upon layer of his own trademarked filth. She lobotomised him with her gaze as she tried to suppress her shivers.

"Why are you working with the Lunar Empire? They want to destroy our very way of life! Even you have to see that their governance will destroy your precious business empire."

He chuckled as he paced around behind her.

"My lady Luna isn't opposed to free enterprise. In fact, when she rules Equestria, I will be free to do anything I want! As you can see, I'm already reaping the rewards of being able to put myself in a more favourable bargaining position."

"Bargaining position?!"

She laughed in bitter disbelief. Surely he couldn't still be after the mansion? Fleur couldn't understand why he wanted it badly enough to do something like this, but she was starting to consider that he may no longer be above the realms of madness. If he ever was, that is.

"If you think you can force me to sign anything-"

"No, no. You have it all wrong, my dear. You aren't the one doing the bargaining. You're the bargaining chip."

Before she could raise an objection, the sound of hooves crunching snow grew closer from somewhere in the howling gale. A silhouette appeared in the endless white, growing harder and more defined as the pony limped closer.

She soon lost count of the number of times the figure stumbled in the snow, pushing onwards relentlessly and with an almost inequine determination and purpose. Fleur gasped as he finally lurched close enough to recognize, his distinctive face peeking out even through the insane amount of clothes he had thrown on in order to make the journey. She immediately attempted to rush over to him, forgetting all about her situation in an overriding rush of protectiveness and fear.

"Fancy, what are you doing?! You can't be out in your condition! How long have you been in this storm?"

Filthy smirked as the machines once again pulled her to the ground.

"On hoof? Must have taken him a good hour to get here."

Fancy stopped, sliding to a shaky halt a few feet away from Rich as he struggled to remain standing. He shivered in place, giving his enemy a restrained and even buisnesspony's stare as his muscles betrayed him to the cold.

"Is this really what it's come to, Rich? Kidnapping and blackmail, alliances with criminals?"

Filthy spread his hooves in a shrug.

"I tried to be reasonable-"

"-and it turns out, such a feat is beyond you."

They stared each other down until Fancy's back legs gave out, forcing him into a shivering huddle. Fancy looked down at the ground morosely.

"Were you ever the pony I thought that you were when we were in school? Were we ever friends? Or were you always this... Monster, and I was just a fool to not see it?"

Filthy looked the broken stallion over with casual interest, biting his cheek in thought. Eventually, he opted to speak his mind, drifting into disgusted reminiscence.

"... You always were a relic, even when we were young. A product of a bygone age of nobility and chivalry. The Rich must be ruthless, Fancy. And you are soft. The world Celestia creates favours kind hearts like you. Stooping to offer help to the 'less fortunate' rather than stepping on them to climb ever higher... It held you back, while I thrived."

"But you're already at the top. Why do you keep trying to bury others beneath you? Has your rampant ambition truly made you unable to enjoy what you have?"

Rich chuckled darkly.

"The days when kindness could tame the wild beast and banish the darkness are ancient history. Celestia's idealised old pony tales designed to hold back the future, or perhaps an unwanted remnant of our herd-dwelling ancestors."

Turning back, he nodded to the Lunatrons. One of them raised their hoof to Fleur's neck, extending a deadly blade in a 'schwing' of frosty menace.

"Luna can have Equestria. In the endless days to come, I will be the pony remembered for creating the future where ponies can become predator, rather than prey."

Fancy struggled to stand in panic.

"Fleur! Don't you harm her, you unspeakable-"

Filthy punched him across the face, forcing him to the ground in pained, gasping coughs. Waiting for the stallion to recover, Rich pulled out a prepared contract for the transferal of a deed. It fluttered like a flag in the blustery gale as Filthy offered a pen to his broken compatriot.

"Your home."

He stomped a hoof and a Lunatron made a painful, stinging cut along Fleur's beautiful face. She cried out as the cold seeped in and tried to freeze the blood as it fell.

"Your wife. It is a simple choice, Fancy. What would you rather leave behind after you fade from this world?"

Fleur raged in the bonds of her captors.

"What are you talking about? Don't you dare do anything to him!"

Filthy grinned.

"I don't need to. He's already done it to himself."

She looked back down to see Fancy scrawl off the last letter to his name before collapsing from sickness. The pen fell from his mouth as he curled up in the snow, shaking and murmuring deliriously as he succumbed to the cold.

Rich rolled up the completed contract and nodded to his robots. The two Lunatrons released Fleur from their grasp and stood to attention as she dove to Fancy's side, trying to rub warmth into him as she showered him in reassurances.

"Fancy... Fancy, look at me. You're going to be fine. I'll get you somewhere warm, ok? Fancy, we'll get through this. I'm not going to lose you."

"I very much doubt that."

Fleur whipped her head back to Rich, her hair a total mess as tears streamed down and mingled with her cut and the snow.

"I didn't ask you... You monster! I won't let him die like this! You got what you wanted, just go!"

Filthy proceeded to do the exact opposite, trotting around to the stallion's other side and dropping into a crouch. He impassively looked over the trembling form before peeling back Fancy's clothing to bare a neck laced with glowing green veins.

"He's slowly dying of a very rare Changeling poison, notoriously difficult to obtain, but incredibly painful. The Changelings designed it to make their prey easier to digest, leaking their love everywhere until nothing's left but a dry, emotionless husk. It's been a week since he was first infected and he's slipping into complete mental shutdown."

He shook his head.

"He's not going to get better, Fleur."

Fleur's voice came out as a whisper.

"You did this?"

"Well, it wasn't my first choice, but when he refused to sell, her Highness became insistent I hurry the process along a bit."

She bit back her first response, trembling as badly as her husband as she beseeched Filthy with desperately pleading eyes.

"Please, call an ambulance, give him an antidote, anything!"

His gaze turned cold.

"I can't. Most doctors don't even know this poison exists. The Changelings designed it to be untraceable, after all."

"No. No. No, no, no. You're lying. You have everything in the world at your hoof tips. Help him."

She wailed, clutching Fancy's head in her forelegs.

"Damn you, Filthy, help him!"

"I can't. And I don't care."

He rose to his hooves, adjusting his coat as the Lunatrons moved to flank him on either side.

"Now sorry about this, Fleur my dear, but now you know about my... Unusual business partners, I'm not really supposed to let you leave here alive. However... I'm sure we can reach some sort of agreement..."

Fleur glared at him with unquenchable hatred, causing him to raise his hooves in defence.

"Now now, hear me out! It's quite simple really. I can't help but notice that you seem to be lacking a husband now, and, well I've been looking for a new wife to share my massive wealth and luxury. So, come live with me, and we can forget all about this nasty murder business."

He rubbed his hooves together in a manner that probably had nothing to do with the cold.

"However, if you don't agree to the offer... Then the 'business' may have to extend its working hours to... accommodate your decision."

He turned to leave, motioning the Lunatrons to keep watching her. They drew their blades, ready to slay her if given any signs she was attempting to escape.

"I'll leave you two to... Discuss my proposal."

Fleur choked back a sob, clutching Fancy's hooves to her chest as the tears froze on her face. Filthy vanished from her perception long before he vanished from her sight, the external influences of her senses shutting down as her world collapsed down to just her and her husband, lying alone in the snow.

Reaching out, she took his hoof in hers and gave him a squeeze that he had not the coherence to return. She stroked his mane, watching his breathing slow as she drifted into thoughts of what was to come.

She thought of a funeral, and all the times they would never get to share, the life they would not be able to have.

She thought of the ponies that came to her for food and shelter, cast out in the storm with nopony to tend to their sickness.

But mostly, she thought of Filthy Rich, cutting open the skin of her city so that the Imperial virus could crawl inside and infect it. Of him, sitting victorious in a city of the moon, surrounded by machines and madmares as the citizens succumbed in the city streets.

In that instant, Fleur felt hatred for the first time. She had thought she understood what it meant to hate, but she didn’t. It was as if every time she had thought she had felt angry or disgusted had been but a single letter, and like an illiterate soul, she had never put them together to read the whole word. The passion she felt for that stallion was intoxicating, it burned through her with an all-consuming intensity like nothing she had ever felt for another pony... Save for the one she held in her hooves.

Yes, as perverse as it sounded, her love... True love was the only comparable feeling. For this was its antithesis, true hate... Two sides of an emotional coin that had now been flipped, switching to its polar opposite.

Fleur knew better than most of the power of love. Her friendship with Cadance, the teachings of the Crystal Nation, all she and Fancy had done together... Everything that had proven to her that love is limitless, unstoppable, overwhelming and uncontainable.

... Which means that its opposite had to be all of those things as well.

The fire of hatred ignited in her, and burned hot enough to match even the cold of the blizzard whipping around the empty field. She gave a guttural cry of anguish, calling out to the storm in a wordless proclamation of suffering.

And the storm answered her.

The snow ceased to fall on the two of them, the howling winds redirecting to create a miniature eye in the freezing storm. The watching Lunatrons glanced around in confusion, their simple programming unable to understand the drastic climate shift going on around them.

Slowly raising her weeping eyes from her lover, Fleur peered out from the matted curtain of her frozen mane, confused and vulnerable as she sought out the source of this becalmed state.

They emerged from the blizzard as if it had been concealing their presence the entire time. Three glowing vortexes of icy flakes condensed into the shape of something ancient and primal. Ethereal hooves clopped onto the frigid soil as they stepped from the snow, looking upon the huddled and broken ponies with interest and concern.

They were twice the size of any pony, even a Princess, their outlined shapes speaking of power and freedom, a horse-like form whole worlds apart from the soft and furry contours of a modern equine.

They were ghosts, shadows of a most distant past, before kingdoms, before civilisation.... But their eyes... Their eyes blazed with an intelligence, an understanding, an empathy.

Fleur mumbled in recognition.

"Windegos..."

The three creatures slowly approached, surrounding Fleur and Fancy as words blew by on the howling wind.

"Pain...

...Hatred
Dying...

Frozen...

...Anger

... Save him...
... Save him...

...Save."

Fleur grasped tighter to Fancy's hoof as she dared to hope.

"You can help him?"

"Cold...

...Broken
...Suffer

...Assist...

...Assist
...Salvation.

...Sanctuary."

Fleur gritted her teeth.

"Sanctuary... He'll destroy it. All that we've struggled to build... All those lives."

"...Destroy

...Destroy

Destroy...
...Vengeance...

...Vengeance."

"Vengeance."

Fleur mouthed the final word of the chant in agreement. An understanding passed between the unicorn and the spirits as they reared back and whinnied in approval. The blizzard rushed back into the clearing as the Windegos began to trot in a circle around the ponies.

The wind and the spirits swiftly gathered speed, accelerating into a gallop as they rose into the air, losing definition as they became as one with the storm. Faster and faster they flew, spiraling into an icy tornado as their eyes flashed and poured unearthly power down into the center, into the body of their chosen champion.

The watching Lunatrons, finally registering the colossal surge of magic, had at last come to the conclusion that the transpiring events stood in conflict to their orders and leapt at Fleur with blades drawn. A foolish action as it turned out, when they found themselves sparking and smoking on impaling spikes of ice that shot out and tore them apart all in the same cold-misted breath.

After what seemed an eternity, the spirits slowed to a crawl, floating back down to hover over the shoulder of the mare gasping in awe of the wild and tempestuous power they had bestowed on her. She was shook from her reverie as Fancy briefly gained enough cognisance to mumble in bleary incoherence.

"Don't blame yourself... An eye... Incredible eye... Preserve something special..."

Fleur's grin split her face in inspiration as her Windigo companions parroted the rambling in a chorus of echoes.

"Preserve...

...Preserve...

...Preserve."

Fancy gasped, repeating his delirious assertion.

“Don’t... Blame yourself. You can’t... Save everyone...”

Fleur held her hooves in front of her face as if she had never seen them before. Slowly, she lowered them to Fancy’s chest and watched as a sheen of ice spread out across his body, completely encapsulating him.

“But I can... I can keep you alive for as long as I want.”

Scene 7

Redheart galloped from room to room, looking around in panic. Navigating the massive mansion, she glanced into every doorway, searched every en-suite, visited every anteroom and climbed every staircase. Slowing to a halt on the balcony over the ruined ballroom, Redheart bit her lip, her eyes flicking from side-to-side in concern as she attempted to reign in her intense worry.

Having attended to the needs of the residents throughout the entire night, she had only one more task to complete before her shift started at M.A.R.E. She would bring Fancy Pants his breakfast and morning medication, expressing her farewell to both him and Fleur before leaving the Sanctuary in her capable hooves as she made the long journey back into the heart of the city.

However, upon reaching the master bedroom, she had found that her patient was not there, and further examination revealed that neither was her friend. She had searched nearly the whole building and found no sign of either of them, which was a rather major concern considering that Fancy Pants was in no fit condition to travel anywhere even if the atmospheric thermostat had been set to ‘tropical resort’ rather than ‘polar wasteland’.

She blew back a strand of mane, coming to a decision. There was nothing for it but to go out looking for them.

It was a desperate plan. Even with her connections to M.A.R.E’s advanced information and intelligence gathering network, the probability of successfully locating two missing ponies in a blizzard this intense was quite a few too many zeroes on the wrong side of the decimal point for any hope of success.

But that was irrelevant. She had to try anyway.

Her resolve set, Redheart made haste for the entrance hall, intending to reclaim her saddlebags and set out into the cold, cold storm. However, as she approached the top of the grand staircase she was stopped in her tracks by the sounds of a large commotion by the entrance. Thinking fast, she vaulted the banister, dropping down into the shadowy crevice behind the stairs.

The room was being cleared out. Muscular ponies in thick winter gear were hustling the homeless from the room, waking them from restless naps and herding them out of the double doors and into the back of Richcorp branded vans parked on the driveway. Even as Redheart looked on, a similarly-branded helicopter barely touched down, battered by the howling winds as a team of shivering workponies unloaded crate after crate of unknown supplies and carried them inside the mansion.

Redheart let a frown fall over her face as she crouched in the shadows. Whatever was going on was clearly quite a large undertaking... And an even larger coincidence.

Staying out of sight, she sneaked closer to the entrance and began to eavesdrop on a very heated argument going on between the impatient overseers and one very irate donkey. With a glance, Redheart could tell that the handlers were not normal Richcorp employees, as their clothes bore no logo or affiliation of any kind. By observing their beefy size and general posture it looked as if they were combat-trained, meaning that they were most likely hired mercenaries and that their heavy winter clothes likely concealed weapons that she somehow doubted that they would have been ordered not to use.

Redheart glanced back from the door to the food counter on the far side of the hall. Her weapons and M.A.R.E saddlebags were still back there, but she couldn't call for backup until she knew just what Rich wanted all of her patients for, otherwise the M.A.R.E. agents just might scare the thugs into running off and then she’d never find out just what was going on here.

The commotion outside drew her attention once more as the elderly Donkey seemed to be giving the hired muscle a surprising run for their money. Stumbling in the snow, Cranky struggled against the ushering hooves of his escorts, turning red in the face as he ranted in crotchety fury.

"Relocation? Relocation?! In this weather? Are you mad? We'll freeze before we even get to the end of the street. More than half of us are sick already, and you want to drag us out of the only home we have?"

The lead mercenary struggled to hold in a groan as he attempted to block the donkey from sidestepping his constant pushing. Cranky was intent on making a scene, and it seemed this stallion would rather put a stop to it before he gave any of the other residents any ideas.

"Sir, this building is derelict and unfit for habitation. Mr Rich has ordered an immediate refurbishment, which cannot proceed with the presence of squatters-"

"Squatters? The owners completely converted it into a shelter for us!"

The pony grunted with exertion, struggling to uproot the donkey's hooves as he pushed him back towards the vans.

"You are... mistaken, sir. Mr Rich has made it quite clear he wants you moved to one of his other facilities-"

"What? That Filthy- Get your hooves off of me!"

Three more ponies came to their leader's aid, lifting Cranky from the snowy ground and carrying him into the closest van, taking various kicks and punches as they did so. Redheart bit her lip. If she didn't act now, then most, if not all of her homeless patients would only worsen in their conditions, provided the armed guards didn't finish them first. However, she still had no idea what was going on and an ill-fated rescue attempt could put everybeing in even more danger than they were right now.

It was in this moment of indecision that the lady of the manor returned home.

"Release him!"

All heads turned to the mansion gates as a commanding voice brought the rough handling to a stop. What they saw was a ruined mare, coated head-to-tail in frost, with a mane utterly matted, tangled and solidified by ice. Scratches and bruises shone through from under her frozen fur and her eyes were filled with a cold that made her frosted exterior seem almost cozy by comparison. A large block of ice floated behind her, suspended in a telekinetic field, though from this distance, Redheart could not discern the outlined shape suspended inside of it.

Redheart was filled with equal parts relief and trepidation at the sight of her absent friend. It was a flat-out winter miracle that Fleur had somehow returned unharmed, but the ordeal she seemed to have undertaken could only have been a horrifying one.

But before Redheart could make any further speculation on the events that had transpired, she was forced to tense her body in shock as her dainty, supermodel unicorn friend decided to walk right up to the seven heavily muscular and, most likely armed, Earth pony stallions and aggressively confront them.

"These creatures are under my protection, and I will not allow you to take them from me! Not anymore... I'm giving you one chance to leave... To go tell Filthy Rich that he will not steal even one more thing from me!"

Her face twisted into a savage snarl unlike any that had ever graced her normally beautiful countenance.

"Do you hear me? Leave! Before I make you!"

Gathering confused glances from his various comrades, one stallion broke off from the group to try and restrain the raging mare.

"Listen here, Ma'am. You can't be harassing our staff or trespassing on Richcorp property-"

He laid a hoof on her shoulder and his foreleg immediately turned to ice. He screamed in shock, stumbling back as Fleur reared up on her hind legs. As her hooves came back down, she slammed one into the side of his head, smashing it into the ground before freezing it to the flagstones in an instant.

"No, this is my property! It belongs to me!"

She swung her neck around, directing with her horn as a wave of ice shot along the ground and slammed hard into the group of goons holding Cranky. Pivoting on the mercenary’s frozen head, Fleur spun in place, shooting a beam of magic as she did. On the other side of the courtyard, the supply chain of workponies tending to the idling helicopter were sent scurrying for cover as they saw the beam headed right for them. With a screech of abused metal, the copter's whirling blades froze to an immediate halt as creeping ice consumed the cockpit and all of its mechanisms.

Redheart's eyes widened in shock at the sudden display of ferocity. One of the mercenaries cursed loudly and barked a command to the rest of his group. Without hesitation, they drew their guns from the depths of the winter clothes.

"Damnit, if we let her take the mansion, Trixie will have all our heads! Get the hobos out of here before any of them escape!"

Fleur threw up a wall of ice between her and the mercenaries, blocking a barrage of gunfire as Rich's goons made a break for the vans that they had filled with captured ponies.

Fleur, undeterred by the hail of bullets, advanced on the retreating mercenaries. With every stomping step she took, she slid her ice wall along the ground towards them. As they neared the parked vans, Fleur dashed forwards, slamming her ice wall into the goons and then using it to pin the fleeing stallions up against the sides of their vehicles. She yelled in increasing desperation as she pushed against the trapped ponies harder and harder, practically crushing them flat.

"No! You can't take them! I'm their caretaker! They're my patients, my residents, my responsibility! They're my responsibility! They're mine! I've lost too much already, he can't have them too! They belong to me! To me!"

Fleur stumbled back, shaking in anger. She let her wall loosen slightly as she felt the ponies pass out from lack of oxygen, leaving just enough pressure to keep them pinned without splattering them all over the windows.

She whimpered, struggling to control her temper as she staggered over to the ice block, leaning on it for support.

"I'm sorry Fancy... I almost let them take them. I almost... No! I can't stop now."

She took a deep breath, brushing back her frozen mane as she gazed lovingly at the ice block.

"I can persevere. I can preserve. I know what to do, the way that I can finally save everyone."

She turned to the closest van. Cranky Doodle had gotten back up after being jack-handled by the mercs, and was now trying to force open the rear doors and free the locked up ponies inside. Setting a neutral mask on her face, Fleur trotted over to this door and pushed him aside. An expression of pain and hesitation passed over her for a moment before she reached out and touched the metal with her hoof.

Her new powers flowed through her, conducting through the frame and everything inside as she froze the entire van in one gigantic block of ice. Cranky turned to her in outrage and horror, his knobbled legs shaking in the snow.

"Have you gone mad? There are still ponies in there that need help!"

"And that is what I am giving them."

Fleur turned her cold eyes onto him, fixing Cranky with an even glare.

"Hurt, lost, sick ponies, huddling under my roof. All of them, dying like flies. Coughing, wheezing, crying. Cold and scared, with no hope for tomorrow. They have lost everything... Their loved ones, their homes, their jobs, their respect, their dreams. Be it sickness of body or the sickness of soul, I cannot cure them. But I can keep them alive. I am their caretaker, but every day I watch them die a little on the inside and on the out."

A single tear slid down her frosted face as she choked out a snarl.

"... No more."

Fleur circled Cranky, smiling sadly as she spoke softly and with compassion.

"I'm sorry it took so long, but I finally have a way to save you all. Mrs Kindle and her dodgy hip, Mr Blackboard and his failing liver, Buttercream's fading eyesight, Springwater's lung infection..."

She paused, sliding Cranky's woolen hat off his head so she could run a hoof along the smooth skin beneath.

"Even your baldness might be cured in time..."

The old Donkey spluttered, trying to knock her hoof away. She caught the strike with her other hoof, her eyes turning cold as a wave of ice began to spread down from where she touched him.

"...And now I can give you that time."

Cranky shivered, his eyes widening in fright as his entire body slowed to a standstill. He gasped at the cold, muttering a single word.

"... Matilda-"

And then he was frozen solid.

Fleur felt the wind and sleet blow through her mane and tail as she turned to the horrified faces of the ponies she had taken under her roof. She smiled creepily before turning her horn on the next van in line.

"- I can give you all the time in the world."

Backing up in disbelief, Redheart's eyes flicked back and forth over the crystalline casings of ice that were quickly silencing the mewling cries of the beings inside. A long moment passed, dragging on and on in skin-crawling tension. Too stunned to compose a thought, Redheart simply stared, eyes wide, mouth ajar and with every hair of her coat standing on end.

All her stealth was forgotten as she just stood there in the entranceway, eyes wide and ears flat against her skull. Although she had seen some terrible things in her time both as a nurse and an agent of M.A.R.E, the disconnect of seeing her most altruistic friend act with such brutality had left her too shocked and horrified to follow her training and remain out of sight.

Chilled by more than just the icy winds, Redheart gritted her teeth as Fleur's eyes turned to focus on her.

She turned and ran.

The empty entrance hall seemed to stretch on into infinity as Redheart galloped full-tilt towards the back wall. Seconds that felt like minutes ticked by as she darted over discarded sleeping bags and around soot-blackened braziers in a mad rush to get to cover.

After what felt like an age, Redheart's sprint led her to the makeshift kitchen at the back of the hall. Implements lay strewn about as, due to all her other duties, she hadn't had time to clean up Fleur's cooking, and so the food counter was still piled high with bowls from last night's soup. These bowls were sent clattering and shattering to the ground as she vaulted the counter, rolling to a stop before pressing her back into the crevice underneath the sink and pricking up her ears to listen for any sound signalling she had been followed inside.

Hiding in the shadows of the low-budget kitchen, she lay crouched among the broken pots, now completely still even as her mind continued to race on in earnest. With the wide-open front doors letting in the Arctic air, her heavy breathing condensed into wispy clouds as she desperately assessed her options.

There weren't many of them. Although she had stashed her M.A.R.E saddlebags back here the night before, they were mainly filled with medical supplies and as such, were not of much use in the current situation. Cursing her helplessness, she slid a hoof into one of the side pockets and she activated her communicator's emergency beacon.

Although it was of some comfort to know that her death would not be completely in in vain, she felt a twinge of frustration as her combat training screamed a reminder that she was not nearly as 'helpless' as she pretended to be. As if to prove this to her, for a brief second, Redheart's eye flitted over to the frost-strewn shotgun latched to the underside of the counter a mere meter away.

But only for a second. Redheart tore her gaze away, refusing to take that path against a friend, even one who could do something like-

"Get up Red. It's your turn."

Redheart leapt to her hooves, twisting her body as she lashed out with a forehoof, connecting only with-

Cold.

Redheart fell to the ground, knocked backwards as she clutched to the frozen limb hanging rigidly at her side. Fleur calmly walked over to her, a gentle smile on her face.

"You know I'm not going to hurt you, Red. I'm sorry about the cold, but I'm sure you know better than most that it often takes a little anaesthetic to numb the pain before your patients will allow you to help them."

Fleur lit her horn, floating over the frozen body of her husband and laying it propped up close to the sink. Redheart grimaced, gripping her frigid foreleg in a futile attempt to restore feeling to the encapsulated limb. Seeming to ignore this, Fleur trotted around their kitchen with a wistful expression. She paused by the countertop as if something had occurred to her and then reached into one of the drawers.

Her face darkened considerably when she pulled out two invitations decorated with Rich's signature. Now scowling in utter disgust, she returned one invitation to the drawer and tucked the other behind one ear for later. Fleur turned back to Redheart, leaning against the drawer for support.

"All the long hours we spent behind this very counter... We gave them food, warmth and medicine... we gave them hope and we gave them care. Every day and every moment we tried to keep them going, tried to preserve their lives even if for only one more day."

She shook her head, the crystalline clumps of frozen mane barely shifting at the movement.

"But that's all that it was, preservation. A desperate, losing struggle against death each and every day as we tried to deny the sickness and entropy the chance to end their lives forever."

"The ice... The powers I've been given. The principle is the same. Preservation from death for as long as possible. It's harsh, I know, I know..."

She dragged her hooves over her eyes grimacing in guilt as she glanced over to the frozen form of her husband.

"But I can't go back to the warmth. Not now, not ever. If they thaw, they die. Sooner or later they die. I... I can't lose any more, Red. I can't lose him, lose them... I can't. They're mine now. My responsibility."

A few moments passed as Fleur tried to calm herself. As she did, she couldn't help but to take notice of Redheart glowering resentfully at her from where she limped on the floor. Fleur bit her tongue and glared back.

"You're looking scornfully at me? This is what we wanted, Red! Finally, a way to save everyone! We've known for so long that this city is sick. Rich and the Empire, they're destroying Metropony, festering away like gangrene... We have to cut them out before they infect us any further."

She gave a twisted and vengeful smile that slowly contorted into irrational anger.

"Once they're gone, I can begin my work on preservation. I will never again allow a single life to be consumed by sickness, never again allow death and disease to claim anyone in my city. These are my ponies, and I won't allow them to die!"

Redheart shifted into a sitting position. Still fighting off the shock from her frozen limb, she shudderingly opened her mouth as words stumbled forth. Fleur's ears perked up, nudged from her trance as she heard a vague mumble. She looked quizzically at Redheart, the picture of childlike innocence.

"I'm sorry, what was that?"

Redheart looked her straight in the eyes and spoke again.

"I'm not sick."

Fleur blinked.

"Why, you're right! You're fit, healthy... In the prime of life!"

Redheart felt something press against her forehead. As the heat drained from her body, she opened her mouth in a silent scream.

"... Let's keep you that way."

Scene 8

As evening fell on Metropony, nothing had changed for the snow-locked city. They were unaware that Celestia’s light had faded from Equestria, as the sun had not been seen in weeks, having long since vanished behind the panoramic grey expanse that had swallowed the sky. They were unaffected by feelings of tiredness and exhaustion that would drive them forth into their beds, as scant few had ever left those beds, and had simply spent the entire day shivering out the hours that had passed by in some sort of vegetative stupor.

In the unrelenting cold, all conventional timetables and societal norms had broken down. But in their place was born a city in hibernation, trapped in an enduring stalemate between civilization and nature. In this city, there remained only one single island of society that was foolish enough to stand tall and bare its neck in defiance of the howling winds. One building that refused to be cowed and dictated to by the sniveling and spineless recommendations of common sense. The occupants of this building exclaimed a very staunch refusal to the notion that this was a time for restful napping and instead strived to do the exact opposite.

They threw a party.

Richcorp headquarters was quite the sight, a three-hundred-story skyline-breaker adorned with the logo-ised cutie mark of its parent CEO. The triangular skyscraper lived up to its name, actually scraping the clouds as they blew past, slicing them into wisps and snowflakes as the polar winds dashed them time and again against its towering razor edges. In the dark and grey, the building blazed like a beacon, a brilliant bonfire of light that welcomed and sheltered any and all comers from the raging storm. As long as they were on the guest list, that is.

With all credit to The Commander, Lyra and Bon-Bon had found themselves on that list. After entering the building's grand foyer, they had soon been ushered into the main guest hall and been quickly separated by the merciless tides of polite conversation pulling them this way and that across the opulent forum. Though not exactly her idea of a good time, Bon-Bon had had plenty of experience in dealing with the rich and famous during her career as a talent agent, and so was less swamped than any other pony might have been. Plus, as an added bonus, it seemed Mr Rich had sunk a lot of money into the construction of his headquarters which included, much to everypony's relief, an advanced heating system that made it currently the warmest building in Metropony.

Bon-Bon looked up from her untouched wine glass to scan intently at another group of bedraggled nobles as they staggered into the hall, checking them as best she could for any suspicious activity that could warrant the action of a licensed superhero. While they seemed considerably too foppish to be dangerous, she kept an eye on them anyway, distracting herself from the current dismal conversation she found herself in.

Those new arrivals weren't the only stragglers that had come to regret being fashionably late, as the snowfall had only intensified as the day had gone on. Buffeted on all sides, they squelched their way up the sodden red carpet as they entered the luminescent building, gratefully scurrying into the warmth and chatter of the grand function hall. Many of their fancy ensembles had been ruined by this rite of passage, and indeed jackets had been torn, blazers dampened, hats whisked away, and one unfortunate mare had had her dress completely pulled inside-out by the sheer force of the wind.

Bon-Bon was starting to wish that her dress had met the same fate, if only because it would have given her an excuse to skip out on the insistent affections of one pretentious, fawning unicorn and his stupid hair.

"This is a truly fascinating winter is it not? I know that I, at least, have not seen snowfall like this since my year-long trip to the Crystal Nation to research their ancestral carving techniques..."

Bon-Bon's grin was so forced, she was practically holding it at gunpoint.

"Uh-huh... Calving techniques, great."

Becoming imbued with unbelievable superpowers had caused a great deal of changes to her life, but among the side-effects she rarely complained about were the effortless athleticism, picture-perfect flanks and the metabolism of a hyperthyroidic hummingbird. The notion of dieting had vanished from the vernacular of the candy-branded mare, being replaced by an untempered sweet-tooth that would bring any other mare to weep tears of pure jealousy and resentment.

However, her enviable physique had backfired on her this time as she found herself trapped in the oblivious affections of the most clueless teen heartthrob in all of Equestria.

Standing a good head taller than your average pony, Trenderhoof leaned down to grace her with his goofy, love-struck smile, imaginary love-hearts blooming behind his half-lidded eyes.

“You know, Miss Bon-Bon, I picked up the most spectacular dance when I was in Saddle Arabia, writing for their annual ‘festival of renewed purpose’. It doesn’t translate well into Equestrian, but the dance itself is something that I think transcends cultural boundaries.”

He gave a dazzling, self-satisfied grin as he flicked his stupid hair back from his face before leaning in with even less subtlety.

“I’d love to show it to you, if you’d join me in the ballroom.”

Bon-Bon backed up, feeling her form-fitting royal-blue dress bunch up about her withers as she made the hasty retreat.

“Look, Mr Trenderhoof-”

“Please. Call me Trend.”

“... Trend. I’m very sorry, but there is somepony I really have to look out for, and I really need to get back to finding them.”

Trend perked up, the look of an eager puppy appearing across his face.

“Well, what do they look like? I can help you find them- it’s no trouble at all!”

This was kind of tight spot for her. For all his unwanted advances, Trenderhoof wasn’t actually a creep. His heart was as soft as his head, but although he wasn’t as twisted as many of the high-society guests at this fundraiser, he did share one glaring flaw with the more rigid and snooty members of the wealthy crowd.

He was an idiot, and nopony had ever bothered to inform him of that that fact.

Bon-Bon gaped like a fish, her eyes darting nervously as she thought of an answer.

"Guh... Short. Yes, a short, grey pony with curly hair, a massive underbite and... An eyepatch! Also... Big, big wings. Bigger than he is, yeah."

Sticking with her fabrication, she shrugged lightheartedly, giving a bashful, girlish smile as an apology for breaking off from their conversation.

"He asked to speak with me tonight to... Discuss getting Lyra to perform. So gotta do that before anything else."

Trend scratched at his stupid hair in confusion.

"I didn't know that the Duke was interested in classical music. He seemed much more immersed in jazz culture when I spoke with him last."

Bon-Bon nodded.

"Yeah, I-"

She froze.

"... What?"

"I think I saw him over by the staircase on my way in. Don't worry, I'll go get him for you."

Unable to fully open or close her word-hole, Bon-Bon dragged out a string of words so as to give her stalled jaw some pretense of function.

"Yeeeeaaaaah... You... You do that."

Pausing only to kiss her not-actually-being-offered hoof, Trend ventured back into the crowd, carving a path through the throng with nothing more than the dazzling brightness of his polished teeth.

Blinking in relief and confusion, Bon-Bon decided to cut her losses and make her way over to the far side of the hall. As it turned out, Lyra was, quite typically right next to all the food. A huge 30 meter long hors d'oeuvres table traveled from wall to wall and, due to the presence of alcohol, was the subject of much attention, as well as a focal point for small groups of gossiping nobles and other such social clusters.

Lyra, who was wearing a white dress no less stunning than Bon-Bon's own, stood at ease next to the table's centerpiece, a glistening life-sized ice sculpture of Princess Celestia. Although the presence of an ice anything seemed in poor taste given the city's circumstances, Lyra hardly paid it any mind and rather used the wide-reaching alicorn wings as cover to sneakily stuff her face with all manner of expensive and exotic nibbles from the nearby plates.

Coming to a stop behind her, Bon-Bon beheld the decimation unfolding before her.

"I thought you had a streaming cold. How are you able to maintain such an appetite?"

Lyra glanced back at her, the beauty and elegance implied by her dress being somewhat ruined by the mouth stuffed with nibbles and the nostrils stuffed with tissues. She swallowed, croaking out her excuse through a hail of crumbs.

"It's warm enough in here, but as soon as we step outside I'm going to need all the energy I can get."

Her sickness-wearied face lit up with a mischievous spark.

"... Plus, if I eat slobbishly enough, none of these snobby rich dudes try to talk to me! It's great!"

Faced with the sudden reminder, Bon-Bon folded back her ears, glancing over her shoulder to see if Trenderhoof had found her again.

"You know what? Good plan. Hoof me a plate and point me to the food you haven't sneezed over yet."

Reaching a hoof out, Bon-Bon eagerly accepted the plate Lyra floated over to her, and after squeezing up next to her under the ice sculpture, she began to stack that plate up with various miniature food items. In their little ice alcove, hunched over the refreshment table, their quest for snacks offered ample excuse to speak in hushed whispers.

"Please tell me you've spotted some Empire activity... Right now I'd give just about anything for the chance to knock a Lunatron through a couple of walls in this place."

"Sorry BB, but I've not been aware of anything that happened since I got cornered by Lord Runcible and he started talking about his fifth-largest yacht."

They both sighed.

Bon-Bon shook her head, looking over her tower of hors d'oeuvres appraisingly.

"I guess it beats being out in the cold."

But, before she could dig in, Bon-Bon's ear twitched to the sound of muted sobbing.

Bon-Bon leaned around the glittering legs of the ice Celestia, tracking the noise back to the disheveled grey-haired pony hidden on the other side of it. The pony was with another, much more dispassionate individual, who although they remained loyally by their side, made no effort to provide comfort for the distressed partygoer.

"Uh, hello?"

The mare stiffened, putting on a false smile as she turned away from the table to face them. Bon-Bon was surprised to discover that she was addressing Metropony's own Mayor Mare, but substantially less surprised to discover that the mayor was nursing a sizeable glass of wine, complete with an incredibly empty looking wine bottle resting on the table next to it.

The mayor looked confusedly at Bon-Bon before settling on Lyra with recognition.

"Oh... Oh yes, I remember you. You're the pony who performed at my ribbon-cutting ceremony last week."

She flinched.

"... Right before that giant robot kicked a hole in the side of the hospital."

The mayor looked down at her glass before taking another, very heavy drink of her wine. Finally stopping for breath, she signalled to her assistant to fill the glass back up again.

As an awkward silence began to follow, Lyra sniffled her tissue-clogged nose before making light conversation.

"So, you come back here to escape from all the snobs and business sharks too?"

The Mayor snorted in a manner suggesting that she had long since cavorted past the limiting behavioural constraints of sobriety.

"Oh, they're not so bad. The ones you really have to look out for are the voters! All they ever do is complain about misuse of expenses, or lack of healthcare funding, or complaining that the taxes are too high!"

Lyra tilted her head and frowned.

"Actually, I don't think anypony has been saying the taxes are too high... They're probably more concerned with all the robots and-"

The mayor cut her off with a quizzical expression.

"Really? No one is saying that?"

She turned to the assistant shadowing her every step.

"Make a note. Remind me to raise taxes when I get home."

As her assistant scratched out the message into her personal planner, the Mayor turned the wine glass in her hooves and stole fretful glances out into the crowded party. As she let out a quiet huff, it was quite obvious to Bon-Bon that their conversation was not at all the focus of the Mayor's attention. But, seeing as her and Lyra's presence at this atrocious shindig was primarily for the purpose of allaying the Mayor's fears, she decided that an attempt at comforting her wouldn't be amiss.

"Are you alright Mayor? You just seem kind of anxious..."

Mayor Mare flinched ever so slightly, forcing herself to look more professional.

"Oh, it's nothing... I was just assured that some... Guests were going to arrive, and I'm really quite eager to know whether they're here yet."

Her voice lowered to what she probably thought was an Inaudible level as she looked fearfully around the room.

"They should be here by now..."

Lyra and Bon-Bon shared a look. Bon-Bon gave the mayor a smile of forced reassurance. Mission or not, giving up their secret identity was not a part of their M.A.R.E. contract and she wasn't about to do so unessesarily.

"It is a big crowd. Maybe you just missed them?"

The mayor shook her head.

"No, I notice everything. Nothing ever gets past me... Which is why our budget reports are always so remarkably depressing."

She froze up.

"So many building repair costs..."

Things turned awkward as the Mayor slowly deflated, crushed under the pressure of her stressful position. With some trepidation, Lyra stepped forward and laid a hoof on her shoulder, struggling for words.

"Hey... I'm sure it can't be that bad-"

The Mayor turned and grabbed her by the front of her dress.

"Just one week without a disaster! That's all I ask! Please, just give me this!"

Lyra flinched, backing up into the table as the mayor's assistant put her hooves on the sobbing mare and led her away from prying eyes, dismissing any inquires with calming statements about how she's ‘just had a bit too much to drink’. Getting her dress back in order, Lyra composed herself with typical, if somewhat groggy, sass.

"... Aaand I suddenly feel sooo much better about not voting for her."

Left alone again, Bon-Bon turned back to her plate, chewing away as she looked out of the windows at the relentless blizzard outside. Though it started out as an absent minded stare into the hypnotic swirls of snow, when Lyra took the opportunity to start blowing her nose on the tablecloth, she instead attempted to use it as a distraction from the embarrassment she was starting to feel.

Bon-Bon blinked, focusing on a shape at the periphery of her vision.

"Lyra, did you see that?"

"See what?"

Bon-Bon pointed at the window.

"There was something out there, looking right at me. I can't make it out, but there's something moving, almost like a pony..."

Lyra squinted as she sniffled.

"It's just the snow, BB. I would have thought we've seen enough of the stuff to recognise it when we see it."

Bon-Bon sighed.

"It is just the snow, isn't it. I guess I'm just so bored that I'd welcome any sort of adversity."

"Ah, miss Bon-Bon!"

She flinched at the voice.

"... Except this sort."

Trenderhoof hit her with his most dazzling smile, floating her a glass of champagne.

"I'm sorry, but seems the Duke was already drunk by the time he got here. He's out cold in the bathroom, so you'll have to wait for another chance to ask him about that performance."

He gave a remarkably unconvincing look of sympathy before grinning wide once more.

"But enough about you, let's talk about me! Did you know that I've used more than thirty types of paper in my travels? It hardly seems possible that so many countries could make such minute yet noticeable changes to the paper-making process, and each one is perfect for writing in different circumstances!"

Bon-Bon drank the entire glass in one swig, hoping against hope that just this once, her super-equine biology would not deny her the comfort of inebriation.

No such luck.

Trenderhoof took another step forwards, forcing Bon-Bon to scoot up against the table. In a futile attempt, Bon-Bon held her stack of food in front of her like a shield, only for Trenderhoof to levitate it over to Lyra, clearing all obstruction to his adoring gaze. Presented with more food, Lyra had no complaints.

“However If I had to choose, I would always favor the paper produced by the Earthen guilds of Maretonia.”

Bon-Bon attempted to slip past him, only to find herself hemmed in by the wings of the ice Celestia. Panicking, she grabbed a glass off the table and made a show of drinking from it. Trend waited patiently for Bon-Bon to finish, awkward seconds ticking by as she downed the entire glass in one go. Feeling the last drops roll past her tongue, Bon-Bon neglected to lower the glass, instead mumbling a reply from behind the rim of the glass serving as a barrier between her lips and his, way, way too close ones.

“Oh, I’m ah... Not familiar with them.”

“Oh, it’s an absolutely fascinating process! All of the paper is made from wood that the Earth ponies personally turn into pulp with their bare hooves! It’s such a commendable tradition that results in only the sturdiest and yet highest-quality paper. Exceptionally flawless and reliable, much like the proud ponies who make it.”

His eyes became half-lidded behind his dumb glasses as his smile became consumed by total goofiness.

“It’s truly the thing I admire most about you Earth ponies... Your...”

His eyes slid down Bon-Bon’s athletic form, shivering slightly in a way that nopony could mistake as being from the cold.

“... Strength.”

Bon-Bon screamed internally.

It was at this, most fortunate of moments that the front doors once again burst open, unleashing a gale of icy winds three times as cold as any that had preceded it. Instantly, every single pony in the foyer was chilled to their core, giving Bon-Bon ample distraction to plant her hoof In Trend’s face and not-so-gently shove him back a good four-or-five paces.

The wind also mussed up his stupid hair, so that’s two favors she owed it.

Along with everypony else in the room, Lyra and Bon-Bon found their eyes drawn to the open doorway, and more specifically the chilling radiance of the mare who had just entered through it.

She was taller than an average pony, with fur so white that until she stepped onto the sodden red carpet, she had been completely invisible against the snow piling up against the now open doors. Her dress was a shimmering gown comprised of a thousand glimmering crystals that hugged along her barrel before trailing off into a long flowing train that snaked behind her like a second tail.

Her horn emerged from behind a curtain of pink hair that concealed half her face. The mane dazzled and sparkled in the light just like her dress, and yet moved stiffly and unnaturally, almost unaffected by the howling winds that heralded her arrival. It was as if it had not been styled but instead had simply been drenched into its long-draped form and then frozen into shape, held together my myriad tiny ice crystals.

Bon-Bon blinked, narrowing her eyes as she tried to confirm a strange intuition.

The mystery guest stepped off the moistened carpet, levitating a gilded invitation from within her dress and presenting it to one of Richcorp's attending staff as they scrambled to get the double doors closed once more.

With the weather once more safely contained outside, the heating system struggled to get the room back up to warmth. As it did so, Bon-Bon found her suspicion confirmed as the now warm air condensed into mist around the mystery guest, adding an additional mystique to the stunning mare. Possessed by some sort of thematic fashion insanity, the latecomer had actually frozen themselves, hair, dress and all just to make a dramatic entrance.

Then again, nopony could say that it hadn't worked.

Smiling, she crossed the foyer, ponies stepping aside with haste simply to steer clear of the biting chill of her passage. She walked with natural grace and confidence, raising each hoof higher than necessary for every step before placing them down with purposeful precision, as if following the steps to a dance made for her and her alone.

She was beautiful, yes, but despite not being overtly threatening in any discernable way, something about her presence carried an underlying aura of danger. It was as if her confidence was not born from prestige or accomplishment, but was rather innate... like an apex predator, secure in the knowledge that nothing could challenge them.

Bon-Bon found her mouth making words before she fully understood her reasons for asking.

"Who is that?"

Trenderhoof adjusted his dumb glasses and cleared his throat.

"That's Fleur de Lis. Nopony has heard from her since she gave up her modeling career a few years back. Well, almost nopony... I once interviewed her for an article on Metropony's struggling charities and volunteer groups. It was a moving and emotional think piece on the little ponies caught in the consequences of a city under siege. I'm sure you'd love reading it... even I cried just while I was writing it-"

Bon-Bon stopped listening, instead focusing on the mare making a beeline for the rear of the hall. Fleur stopped to ask something of one of Rich’s security guards, to which he nodded and led the mare off into the corridors of the office building.

The sound of a slight sniffle directed Bon-Bon's attention back to Lyra, who was still hogging the buffet. Turning, she whispered into Lyra's ear.

"What was that about?"

Lyra shrugged, her nose making an almost purring sound as she breathed through it.

"Probably just invited to go make out or something. These rich dudes can attract all kinds of attention."

"There's something off about her. I'm gonna check this out."

Lyra sneezed over another plate of food. Taking responsibility for her action, she made sure nopony else would get infected by claiming the entire plate for her own.

"Suit yourself."

She sniffed heavily.

"I'll hold down the fort here, but you may have trouble shaking your earnest admirer."

Bon-Bon sighed and moved out of whisper range, feeling creeped out when she discovered that Trend had just been lovingly gazing at her during this entire conversation. She forced a smile.

"Well, it's been nice talking to you, Trend. But I really do have to go now. For, uh reasons. Reasons pertaining to anything that isn't you. On the other side of the room. From where you are, and should remain being while I leave."

Trenderhoof sighed dreamily, having heard absolutely none of the words he didn't want to hear. Which was all of them.

Rolling her eyes, Bon-Bon decided it was long past time for her to make like the weather and give this guy the slip. With practiced ease, Bon-Bon purposefully dropped her empty glass and allowed it to roll under the expansive snack table. Gasping in mock-annoyance, Bon-Bon pointed to the spot she'd lost it.

"Oh dear. Lyra, could you get that for me?"

Blinking obliviously, Lyra fell for it.

"Uh, sure."

Trenderhoof's jaw almost fell of his face as Lyra leaned down to glance under the tablecloth, before reaching down and effortlessly lifting the entire room-length table with a single hoof. Spotting the glass, she floated it over with her magic, passing it back to Bon-Bon, who accepted with a smile.

"Thank you Lyra. Have fun."

Lyra brushed it off with a hoof wave.

"Sure thing, BB."

She suddenly frowned as Bon-Bon slipped past the stunned stallion and almost skipped away.

"... Fun with what?"

Lyra felt an unexplainable chill as she began to notice the jaw-dropped Trenderhoof transition into a state of heady infatuation.

"So, Lyra, was it? How is it that a unicorn like you can develop such remarkable strength? Please, tell me everything! I want to know all about you."

"... Eeep."

Scene 9

Working alongside the Lunar Empire was not a pleasant experience for Filthy Rich.

Despite their shared ideologies, there was little respect shared between himself and Trixie. The showmare’s rampant narcissistic pride prevented her from giving any due credit to anypony besides her own reflection, and in turn Rich’s alpha-male business predator mindset led him to despise being bossed around by a stuck-up, domineering mare of Trixie’s caliber.

But despite his extreme distaste for his longstanding ‘business’ partner, Rich would still rather share a hundred spiteful conversations with Trixie than spend even one more moment with the mare currently occupying his time.

Trixie may well have been the most hated mare in Metropony, but not even she could match the sheer toxicity and disgust that Filthy felt towards his wife.

Spoiled Rich was an oozing mess of wrinkles, makeup, hair products and botched surgery that had somehow wriggled its way into a dress. Her every over-enunciation twisted her lips into unnatural grimaces and pouts that were impossibly distracting to behold. Her every haughty sniff flared the tiny nostrils in her pointed, artificial nose which, when released, gave an irritating whistle that grated at the ears. Her every thought and action was performed with the intent to manipulate or belittle everypony around her, finding a sick joy in the superiority she felt this gave her.

But most of all, Filthy was disgusted because this mare had full legal access to use huge amounts of his crookedly-earned money.

Sweet Luna, he needed a replacement.

With any Luck, Fleur would accept his merciful offer and he could finally be rid of the disgusting hag he publicly described as his special somepony.

“Don’t even think about it.”

Even though the fundraiser event was already in full swing, Spoiled Rich had yet to finish ‘beautifying’ herself for her attendance and was standing in front of a mirror in one of the building’s executive bathrooms, dabbing at her eyeliner for the umpteenth consecutive minute.

Filthy stiffened his pose.

“About what dear?”

She returned her makeup to her purse, snapping it shut as she shot him a withering glare.

“You’re making the face you always do when you fantasise about getting rid of me.”

Filthy couldn’t help but smile.

“It’s an appealing fantasy.”

Spoiled rolled her eyes and trotted up to him, adjusting his tie with a critical look.

“Filthy, dearest. You know my gossip network is the only thing squashing all the rumors of your dirty dealings. You also know that I know enough about those dirty dealings to bury you and your whole company.”

Filthy sighed, momentarily reminded as to why he married this mare.

“Which is why it is currently just a fantasy. Could still happen though.”

Spoiled gave him a condescending smile and patted him on the cheek.

“No it won’t.”

Finally ready to face their guests, she left the bathroom, feeling Filthy glaring at the back of her head the entire time.

Filthy took a deep breath to calm himself. It wouldn’t do to get too caught up in thoughts of being single while he still had the whole night ahead of him. After all, if Trixie actually pulled off her latest deranged scheme, then this would be the last time he would be forced to fake pleasantries with the foppish idiots that populated his social circle.

Stepping out into the hallway, Rich was approached by one of his security staff. Having caught his attention, Rich slicked back his mane and huffed.

“Is there a problem?”

“Sir, it’s about the mare you wanted us to bring to you. She’s waiting in your office now, sir.”

Filthy smiled. If there was one thing that could get his mind off of his current wife, it was thinking about his future one.

“Excellent. I’m sure the party can wait a little longer for me to arrive, provided Spoiled doesn't drain all the life out them before I get there.”

With renewed vigor, Rich trotted to the end of the corridor and entered the private elevator that delivered him to his office on the top floor.

The Richcorp penthouse was as opulent as infinite money could make it. The front and back walls were full length glass. The first, located behind the desk, looked out over the city in all its snowy glory. The other, opposite it, looked out across a narrow atrium going in a straight shot down the center of the building. This atrium, covering more than a hundred floors, led all the way down to the much-larger entrance foyer where even from the very top, you could still see the tiny colored specks of party-goers milling around more than two thousand hooves below you.

For the side walls of the office, Filthy had tastefully chosen to invest in a gallery of door-sized self-portraits in a variety of styles and textures. However, as egotistical as he was, these portraits served only to demonstrate that Rich’s greed dwarfed even his ego. With Rich being unwilling to keep his fortune at even the slightest distance, the most prominent feature of the office was the colossal bank vaults taking up the entire rest of the penthouse floor. Lined up six along each wall and sealed with circular steel doors seven hooves thick, each vault was magically sealed, each one keeping safe a fortune undreamt of even in the hordes of the eldest and fiercest dragons in Equestria.

Fleur was standing in front of his desk, resting one hoof on the wood and looking substantially more beautiful than any mare taken hostage and left abandoned out in a blizzard had any right to be. Her effortless poise and radiance only further served to put Rich’s wife to shame even after the five hours of preparation Spoiled had put herself through.

She was flanked by two of his guards, but all her attention was pointed out of the rear window and into the howling storm.

Trying not to drool, Filthy put on all of his greasy charm and charisma.

“Fleur, I didn’t expect to see you so soon. I take it by your lack of death that you decided to accept my offer?”

Fleur slowly turned around. She smiled sweetly, but her eyes... Oh Sweet Luna, those chilling eyes. Filthy suppressed a shudder as he felt their hatred cut into him. This was good. Hatred, he could work with. Anything was better than the absolute apathy he saw whenever Spoiled looked at him.

Rich cleared his throat and pushed some more.

“Well, Fleur? Yes or no?”

Fleur took a few steps towards him, her sweet smile slipping. Instead, bared teeth reflected off her frozen mane as she moved closer to the security guards.

“...This sort of meeting requires a little privacy.”

She put her hooves on the shoulders of the guards and with a flash of magic, completely froze them in less than a second. Tossing the immobile stallions to the ground, Fleur glanced over to her prey and... Saw he was already making a break for the elevator. She rolled her eyes.

“Typical...”

Rich hadn’t even got near the elevator when a fist of ice shot up from underneath him and launched him into the air. Taking the blow right to the chest, he sailed straight over Fleur’s head and clean across the room. With a crunch of splintering wood, his massive desk cushioned his fall, snapping in two and burying him beneath a pile of his stationary and paperwork.

Coughing out through bruised ribs, Filthy felt the room temperature plummet. Barely finding his footing, he felt a strong chill on his hooves as a dusting of frost spread across the lush carpet beneath them. Yelping at the sudden shock, he reached out with his hoof to grab his office phone from the wreck of his desk and desperately began dialing for some assistance.

“Come on, Come on!”

Filthy flinched and cried out as a bolt of magic struck his hoof and froze it to the desk. Literally frozen with fear, he gaped at the sight of Fleur as she strode towards him, the magic pouring from her horn turning the office’s opulent interior into an arctic cavern of jagged icicles that reflected her chilling radiance like a thousand fractured mirrors.

Already wearing an impish smile, Fleur gave her lips a demonic promotion to ‘devilish grin’ when the greasy stallion turned in her direction and visibly paled at the sight of her.

“Hello, Filthy. I’ve considered your proposal, and I’m afraid I have to decline.”

Filthy Rich propped himself up, looking at her with desperation in his eyes.

“Now, Fleur, I know I... killed your husband, b-but we can still come to some sort of agreement! How about I let you kill my wife. Then we’ll be even!”

He flinched as she stepped up to the desk, her mere proximity enough to grow jagged ice crystals on every nearby surface.

“You disgust me. Some part of me wants to force myself to look you in the eye when I kill you, but I might have to ignore that idea.”

Fleur’s horn lit up, breaking off an icicle the size of a jousting lance and levitating it to dangle over Filthy’s head.

“Instead, I think I’ll force you to turn around, so you know what it’s like when somepony stabs you in the back...”

Rich whimpered with fear, flinging his hooves over his head as he watched the ice-tip dangle ever closer.

“Please, don’t kill me! I’ll pay you anything!”

Fleur paused, drawing back slightly.

“... Can you make an antidote for Changeling venom?”

There was a moment of hesitation.

“... Yes! Yes, I can buy anything just please let me go!”

Fleur growled and lowered the room temperature even more.

“You’re lying...”

Rearing up, she drew back the spear to strike.

Fleur flinched as a well-placed concussive grenade detonated right above her head, shattering the lance and leaving a ringing in her ears that made it difficult to hear the voice of the interloper that had followed her all the way from the party.

Stomping a hoof on the frosted carpet, Sweets locked onto Fleur with a no-nonsense glare.

"Alright you nutjob, I swear, if you make me say ‘freeze’, I’ll snap that frozen mane right off your head.”

Fleur spun around, blinking in shock at the pony standing undaunted among the jagged ice crystals, Sweets’ defiant posture and gritted teeth seeming to make her glow with righteous energy. Ears folding back, Fleur snarled in utter disbelief.

“You?! Why are you defending him?! Don’t you know what he’s done?!”

“No, but whatever this is about, I won’t let it end with murder. This ends right now, so power down your... Icy-ness, and let the stallion go.”

"... And if I don't?"

Sweets reached back into her saddlebags and grabbed another hooful of grenades.

"You'll wish you did."

Fleur closed her eyes and sighed.

“If that’s the way it has to be... Then fine!”

Fleur’s horn flashed as she poured a massive burst of her power into the floor. Immediately, the frost-buried carpet began to sprout sharpened icicles, each intent on piercing flesh as the room instantly transformed into a bed of deadly spikes

Within the blink of an eye, a hundred of these pin-sharp ice-spikes stabbed out from the ground seeking to impale Sweets right where she stood. But, despite the ferocity of Fleur's magic, Bon-Bon used her incredible speed to avoid the treacherous floor entirely and instead leapt high into the air, flipping over and gracefully landing on top of one of the vault doors lining the room.

Sweets smirked, feeling a sudden rush of Lyra’s influence flowing through her.

“Sorry, but you’ll never catch me with any plan that has such a huge floor in it.”

Fleur was angry enough that the terrible pun didn’t even register.

“You idiot! If you had the slightest idea what was going on here, you would be helping me!”

Readying for another attack, Fleur lit her horn again, this time wrapping her aura around every single icicle in the room and directing them to face point-first at Sweets. Filled with rage and desperation, Fleur snarled, yelling as she flung every single one of them at her at once.

“Stop interfering! I don’t want to have to hurt you!”

Intent on not becoming a pin cushion, Bon-Bon threw her grenades in front of her, covering her eyes and face as the chain-explosion obliterated the incoming spikes. With a small flip, she leapt off the metal ledge, changing course to dive towards Fleur with one hoof outstretched.

“Do me a favor and hold on to that feeling, it’ll make it much easier to take you down!”

Panicking, Fleur snapped her head upwards, once more calling on her power to aid her. Rising from the floor and affixing itself to the ceiling, she crafted a thick, protective ice wall between her and Sweets, seeking to buy some precious time.

A second later, she discovered the futility of her effort. Already propelling herself through the air, Sweets drew back her hoof and swung a punch at the icy wall. Filled with what Lyra would describe as ‘righteous justice’, and Vinyl would describe as ‘freakishly unfair empowerment’, Sweets effortlessly smashed a hole straight through the blockage and continued right on course to her foe. Seeing Sweets not even slow down, Fleur desperately leapt to the side, feeling a ballistic hoof swing past her and take off a chunk of her frozen mane.

The second her punch failed to land, Bon-Bon spun round and took a second swing, hoof blurring the air as it streaked towards her opponent.

“If you really don’t want to fight, then stand down!”

Despite Bon-Bon's greater speed and strength, Fleur saw the attack coming and managed to catch the punch with her own hoof, straining at the power behind the blow. But that was fine, as the block was not intended for her to just to defend herself.

The instant Sweets’ hoof touched her own, Fleur sprung her trap, willing a thick layer of ice to begin spreading up Bon-Bon's leg. Feeling her new magic flowing through her, Fleur smiled as watched her power not-so-slowly freeze Sweets completely solid.

“I can’t allow you to stop me. You’ve been stuck treating the symptoms of this disease, and allowed their infection to spread! This storm of vengeance will cure my city once and for all, and even if I have to protect you from yourselves, I will see this treatment through to the end!”

Sweets grit her teeth at the cold sting of the spreading ice. She snorted, the hot air misting in the ice-chilled room. Then, looking Fleur dead in the eyes, she flexed her entire foreleg and shattered the ice in a burst of impossible strength. Almost in slow motion the look of shock on Fleur's picture-perfect face turned to pain as Sweets pivoted and kicked her in the gut. Hard.

Filthy Rich whimpered as the ice queen smashed into the remains of his colossal desk hard enough to turn it to kindling.

Flicking flecks of ice off her shoulder, Sweets glared at the winded model, seeing her glamorous ice-dress laying around her in a dozen fractured shards.

“Keep this up, and you’re the one who’ll need treatment, lady.”

Fleur laid on her side among the splinters, wondering what could have gone wrong. Tentatively, she reached a hoof up to touch at the broken chunk of her mane, feeling how Sweets' first attack had smashed a hole through which her left eye could now be seen. Growling, she glanced over to Sweets as the other mare settled into a readied battle stance, extending a hoof to beckon her with a 'bring it on' wave.

Feeling her powers churn inside of her, Fleur rose from the wreckage and prepared to try her luck a second time. Nursing her bruised chest, Fleur looked Sweets in the eye and let her face soften.

“I’m very appreciative for everything you’ve done for our city. You’re a good pony, and because of that, I truly am sorry.”

Sweets snorted distrustfully.

“What, for trying to kill somepony?”

Fleur’s horn flashed as she turned a complete 180 and fired another blast of sheer arctic energy.

“No, for letting them kill you.”

Ignoring Sweets entirely, Fleur focused the full force of her magic on the wall of glass behind her. Spirals of frost quickly spread over the triple-thick pane, heralding the growth of a vast network of cracks and fissures. Eventually, it culminated in an implosion of shattered fragments as the massive window collapsed, exposing the office to the chill night air.

This breaking of glass served as a signal, calling out to the storm. Before Sweets could take a single step, the signal was answered and the storm invited itself in, three living blizzards shooting in through the opened window and slamming into Sweets like a tidal wave of air and compacted snow.

Bon-Bon cried out as the force of the wind and snow blasted her off her hooves. There was no defence as the Windegos passed straight through her, and in so doing battered both her body and soul with a dense hailstorm of icy blades. Caught up in the maelstrom of their swirling bodies, Bon-Bon was swept away in the current, helplessly tumbling like a leaf caught in a hurricane before being bodily flung through the other window on the opposite side of the office.

Bon-Bon bit back a curse as she was hurled out into open air, the towering atrium now leaving her with more than a hundred floors straight down onto the unforgiving snobs and politicians below. Even as she began to fall, the Windegos didn’t let her go, relentlessly pursuing her in a vertical chase. Tumbling end-over-end, it almost felt as if they were playing hoofball with her helpless body as they rammed her, battering her back and forth with the ice and snow that made up their frigid spectral forms.

By the time Bon-Bon’s indoor skydiving adventure had reached the halfway point, she was starting to think her conversations with Trenderhoof were actually not the most unpleasant and nauseating experience to happen to her that night. Disoriented in the extreme, Bon-Bon reached into her saddlebags, entrusting her life once more to her gadgets and the ponies that supplied them.

Before the storm had overtaken Metropony, Vinyl had been intending for her to field-test her new magic-based flashbang grenades against a live opponent that wasn’t just another one of ExTech’s incredibly unfortunate scientists. Although this wasn’t the ideal situation for such a test, she didn’t have time to worry about the consequences, what with the ground getting closer with every passing moment.

Unable to throw the device thanks to the winds tossing her about, Bon-Bon instead just twisted the cap on the hoof-held device and then held it at foreleg’s-length, hoping that a grenade comprising of purely stunning magic wouldn’t actually blow her hoof off when used in this manner.

Luckily, it didn’t.

If there was two things that Vinyl Scratch’s magical talents were good for, those things would be inducing blindness and deafness. Hopped up on the DJ’s signature blue spellcraft, the flashbang successfully conferred an entire nightclub’s worth of light and sound into one ripple of arcane force. Crowding as close to Bon-Bon as they were, the Windegos had no defense as their mostly magical bodies were blasted away by the pulse.

Cringing and shaking her head at the ringing in her ears, Bon-Bon still managed to hear the confused whinnying of the stunned Windegos, their attacks forced to halt and their ethereal outlines blurred from the shock of the magic that had just assaulted them.

Seeing her opportunity, Bon-Bon stuck out her legs and righted herself in the air. Facing upwards, she pulled out her grapple launcher and fired it into one of the floors lining the atrium. The rope snapped taut, nearly yanking Bon-Bon’s legs from their sockets as she bounced to a stop, dangling sixty floors from the ground.

Still reeling from her recent bouts of pain, Bon-Bon looked down at the stunned Windegos as their momentum carried them down into the crowded foyer. Gritting her teeth at the burn in her aching shoulders, she begged her body to recover faster, hearing the first cries of horror that signaled the fundraiser had just come to a very abrupt end...

Scene 10

In the time since Bon-Bon had left, Lyra’s evening had only been getting worse. Leaving the snack table behind, she had taken a circuitous route of ducking and diving through the throngs of party guests as she steadily made her way towards the back of the room. While her choice of navigation was in some part motivated by thoughts of meeting Bon-Bon upon her return, it was also largely motivated by thoughts of escaping from Trenderhoof, who, as it turns out, was just skinny enough to be just as good at weaving through crowds as she was.

Finally reaching the rear wall, Lyra leaned against it and took the opportunity to blow her nose once more. By the time she looked up from her tissue, Trend had already caught up with her. Grinning wildly, he eagerly leaned in, seemingly incapable of taking hints even when they were being launched at him from a canon.

“You know, Lyra... I’ve met a lot of musicians, but I simply have to know your thoughts... What does the lyre mean to Ly-ra?”

Lyra squinted at him in horrified confusion.

“What does the what mean to the what?... Never mind, I don’t care. Just please leave me alone, I gotta- gotta-a... ATCHOOOO!”

Trend didn't even flinch as his stupid glasses were completely covered in sneeze goo. Instead he tilted his head and gazed lovingly into her eyes.

“You even look good when you’re sneezing... Who looks good when they’re sneezing?”

“... Seriously?”

Seeing no light at the end of the tunnel, Lyra urgently looked around for a distraction.

It was at that point that she quite gratefully received one, as there are few things more disruptive than three Windegos dive-bombing a very crowded room full of ponies. One after another they plummeted down the middle of the atrium at a speed unbecoming of a creature mostly made of air, snowflakes trailing behind them like confetti following a parade. Still stunned from Vinyl’s magic, they didn’t even slow down when they reached ground level, instead just battering against the marble floor and exploding out into more than a dozen conflicting winds, flinging ponies this way and that as they raged across the foyer.

Just as panic and confusion was beginning to spread, the winds spiraled back to the center of the room and reformed into their horse-like shapes. Rearing back, their empty eyes flashed and they let out a howling whinny, feeding the fear and panic already inspired by their disruptive arrival.

Lyra dodged to one side as screaming ponies began fleeing the foyer from every available exit, a mostly incoherent noise that only underscored the surprising clarity of the Mayor screaming ‘Please no, not again!’ somewhere amidst the chaos.

Unconcerned with the mad rush of ponies streaming past, Trend gaped up at the ghostly creature in awe.

“Are those... Windegos? I’ve always wanted to interview one! Who knows what kind of insight it could offer us into the nature of our very own selves...”

Huffing, Lyra tore off her dress and threw it in his face.

“Yeah, great. Hold this, Lover Boy.”

With that she slipped into the crowd and dashed off to retrieve her gear from the side room she had stashed it in earlier.

Sixty floors up, Bon-Bon looked down at the fleeing crowd and cursed.

“Widegos, here? How the hay does a supermodel become friends with a Windego?”

Clinging onto her grapple-rope, Bon-Bon curled her legs up as a beam of magic traced the circumference of the atrium, creating a spiraling-ice-slide all the way down to the bottom floor. A second later, Fleur slid past her, floating a sobbing Filthy Rich behind her as she used the inverse helter-skelter to make her escape.

Frowning, Bon-Bon gave a snort of determination before disengaging her grapple hook and dropping down onto the slide, posture low and legs wide as gravity took her down into a spiraling pursuit.

“You’re not getting away on my watch...”

As her speed picked up, Bon-Bon leaned into the curve, gaining on the kidnapper. With all her speed, it didn’t take long for Fleur to notice her. Cursing, Fleur turned around and started sliding backwards, aiming at Bon-Bon and firing beam after beam from her horn.

Stuck on the spiral slide, the two mares circled around and around each other, like water sucked down a drain. As they did, Bon-Bon would duck and dodge each consecutive attack, each flash spawning another eruption of ice crystals from where they struck the atrium walls.

She first pivoted to slide sideways, feeling the chill as Fleur’s magic brushed past her ear. Then she converted her twist into a jump, leaping over impalement-eager icicles appearing in her path. Then she dropped down to slide on her belly like a penguin, hooves slung backwards to streamline her speed as she shot under another aggressively-tracking cluster of spikes.

Fleur growled in frustration as she finally used her initiative and just aimed down at her hooves to destroy the ice immediately behind her as she descended.

“This isn’t your fight! Just leave me alone!”

Still sliding belly-first, Bon-Bon just fell right off the now-abrupt slide cut off point, tumbling end over end before whipping out her grappling hook and shooting it into the air. Luckily, her freefall had finally taken her out of the ludicrously long atrium and back down to the grand foyer, meaning that she now had a ceiling with which to grab onto.

Keeping her hind legs outstretched, Bon-Bon let the rope take her in a wide swing that intercepted Fleur just as she reached the end point of her slide. Unable to do anything to halt her momentum, Fleur could do little else but to brace herself as Bon-Bon’s hooves slammed into her left flank and booted her clean across the room.

Bon-Bon landed on all four hooves, still poised and ready for action. Fleur, winded from the kick, just sailed heedlessly through the air... right up until her Windego companions dived into her flight path and caught her, drifting her safely to the ground on a gentle gust of wind.

Fleur laid on the marble tiles, her hind leg twitching in protest at the harsh beating to her slender limb. Immediately, her eyes snapped up at the sound of hoofsteps, locking on to the distressed pony making a break for the door. Her unwilling passenger had been knocked free from her telekinesis when Sweets had kicked her, and after spotting a means of escape, Filthy Rich was galloping as fast as he could for the double doors and their distant promise of salvation.

He had almost made it, but froze to an immediate halt when a stream of magic iced his hooves to the tiled floor and held his legs firmly in place.

With a calm expression, Fleur turned back to Bon-Bon, the Windegos hovering over her shoulder mimicking her as they fixed the meddlesome superhero with a baleful glare.

“If you’re really going to do this, Sweets, you should know just who it is you’re fighting for. This stallion poisoned my husband and used me as a hostage to force him to sign over everything we had! He’s been using homeless ponies as cash cows for his illicit business, business which involves him working for the Lunar Empire! He’s helping to spread the disease that is destroying our city! You of all ponies should be helping me!”

Bon-Bon flinched and looked over at Filthy Rich in shock. Squirming, the stallion cried out with such desperation it was as if he believed that his tears could melt the ice holding him in place.

“She’s lying! She’s insane! She’s anything! Just please get her away from me!”

Bon-Bon looked down, eyes flicking back and forth as she thought. Soon enough, she found she was getting angry.

“Whatever he’s done doesn’t justify what you’re doing now. You’ve endangered innocent ponies, plotted murder, you’re working with monsters...”

Taking a deep breath, she tried to use a softer tone.

“I assure you that we’ll investigate your claims, but we can’t abide wanton murder. Turn yourself in before this gets any worse.”

Fleur grimaced, thinking about what would happen to her mansion full of living ice sculptures. She knew that if she gave up, everything she had done for them would be wasted, and they would be once again doomed to die.

“No... No, I made a promise to take care of them... This city is my responsibility and I won’t just stand by-”

“Wait! Wait for me!”

Lyra ran into the room, having finally found a room not filled with terrified fleeing ponies that she could use to change into her costume.

“I’m here! I’m here!... Whew...”

Lyra perked up and obliviously glanced around.

“... What’d I miss?”

Fleur’s eye twitched at the presence of another interloper. Looking around for an idea, she spotted the immaculately formed ice sculpture over on the hors d'oeuvres table. With desperate focus, Fleur’s power surged out of her and streamed across the room towards the elegant statue. In an instant, the faux Celestia glowed with an unearthly light... forbidden come-to-life magic glittering off of its crystal facets as it transformed.

Empowered by the will of the Windego’s chosen, the substitute monarch was reborn as a beautiful and deadly ice golem. Filled with new life and purpose, the former centerpiece leapt off of the table and landed by Lyra’s side, looming over her while also intimidating her into submission with a chilling expression of stern, royal disapproval.

Lyra’s ears folded down as she was suddenly reminded of every pissed-off authority figure in her long life of pissed-off authority figures.

“Oh hey... Princess... Ha, ha... Wow, you’re a lot scarier than you look on the stamps.”

That was when Cel-ice-tia clobbered her to the ground with a super-sized ice-hoof to the face.

Trusting Lyra to deal with the new threat, Bon-Bon dashed towards Fleur, leaping around the ice walls and ice beams thrown in her path as she zig-zaged her way towards the vengeful supermodel. But, as it turned out, Fleur didn't have to do a single thing as the three Windegos hovering by her side all 'inhaled' at the same time, puffing out their cheeks and blowing to create a single, unified hurricane that brought Sweets' advance to a stumbling halt.

Eyes streaming from the battering wind, Bon-Bon squared her hooves and refused to be moved. Like many earth ponies, she had a knack for standing strong when pressured and, hoof by determined hoof, she crawled towards the spectres, intent on fighting their champion.

Seeing Sweets' stubbornness firsthoof, Fleur snorted.

“Oh no. We’re not doing this again. This time, I’ll make sure you don’t get anywhere near me.”

With utter grace and poise, Fleur dramatically tapped her hoof on the ground, a wave of ice spreading from her touch to turn the tiles in front of her into a treacherous ice rink. Bon-Bon, strong as she was, could do nothing when her friction disappeared out from under her, and the intense howling winds sent her flying back, tumbling and sliding as far away from Fleur as possible.

On the other side of the foyer, Lyra was having just as poor luck. Her body being whipped violently through the air, Lyra desperately clung onto Celicetia’s regal horn and tried not to be knocked off. Abandoning all pretence of royal decorum, the Golem Princess bucked and swung like a rodeo pony, trying to batter Lyra with her giant wings as she flailed the tiny pony around around like she was a horn-mounted flag at a particularly patriotic festival.

“Whoah! If this is about me using the end of your tail as ice for my drink, then I can only apologise... Ooof!”

Lyra’s midair thrashing was brought to a sudden halt when one of Fleur’s Windegos broke off from the herd to lend the Golem some assistance. Head-ramming into her at the peak of her swing, the Windego sent Lyra sprawling along the floor before battering her with a barrage of speedy fly-bys that kept her dizzy and off-balance.

Grunting with the effort, Lyra fought back, only to find her hooves literally punching nothing but air as the spirit beast split and reformed around her, never once allowing her a solid enough surface to attack.

“Just... Why you... Hey, get back here... Oh, that’s it!”

As the Windego spun around to face her, she whipped out her grapple-gun, aiming it at the ghostly creature with the intention of yanking it towards her before it could break apart again. Instead, the Windego stopped in place and blew out through puffed-up cheeks.

The force of its breath whipped up a gale so strong that it stopped the grappling hook mid-flight and then sent it soaring back to strike Lyra on the side of the head.

“Aoww! Come on! That’s just unfair!”

Dropping her grappling hook, Lyra squeaked involuntarily as her body was lifted up and crushed from behind by the sculpted Princess, hind legs kicking effectually as Celicetia squeezed the breath from her in a devastating bear hug.

Still skittering on the floor, Bon-Bon struggled to recover from her spin-out as she glared across the room at Fleur and her guardian spirits.

“Hey, I’m not through with you yet!”

Still sliding on the icy floor, Bon-Bon was forced to dive for cover as Fleur began to take shots at her, firing her ice beams wildly across the hall.

Intent on sniping Sweets from afar, Fleur cocked up an ear as one of her Windegos drifted down to float by her side. Fluttering in place with concerned, glowing eyes, the ice spirit began whispering to her.

“ ...Delay

...Haste

Retreat...

Hurry....

Hurry...”

‘Tsk’-ing at the hold up, Fleur waved the spirit away and thought over its brisk advice.

“You’re right, this is taking too long... If Filthy managed to contact the Empire, this place could be swarming in Lunatrons at any moment...”

Although Fleur doubted the belligerent robots could do much against the gathering of heroes and monstrosities already attending the party, if Rich were to escape in the confusion... then the devious sod could easily go into hiding and never be found. Knowing full well she couldn't risk letting him slink from her clutches, she decided it was time to make a retreat.

Looking up at the two Windegos floating above her, she barked out her orders.

“One of you, with me. The rest of you, delay them for as long as you can.”

Leaving only a nod of understanding, one of the Windegos reared back and then shot across the room, blowing out another blustery wind to chase Sweets from her hiding spot as it pelted her with a stream of painful hailstones.

Fleur dashed to the door, another Windego snaking at her heels as she magically lifted the frozen tiles holding the severely sniveling Rich. The tyrannous tycoon now had even more reason to weep, thanks to Fleur dangling him upside-down by his ice-encrusted hooves.

Bursting open the double doors, Fleur leapt out into the city streets, bounding onto a nearby snowbank with her prisoner by her side. Gathering her power, she leapt forwards. Feeling its presence besides her, the Windego moved in unison with Fleur, combining its force with her own as the snow moved at their command. Spurred into motion by their magic, the snowbank lifted from the tarmac and powered forwards, carrying Fleur along atop it like a surfer riding a surging wave.

The snow wave knocked cars and streetlights aside as it passed, sliding past buildings filled with sleeping ponies as it took her and her hostage on a high-speed getaway. Swerving down street after street, the mare and her monster plotted a course for the city’s suburbs and disappeared from sight.

Still shielding her face from an onslaught of hailstones, Bon-Bon saw Fleur's departure and called out to Lyra.

"We can't let her get away! We gotta get after her!"

Lyra, now turning blue from the crush of her various organs, croaked out a sarcastic reply.

"Glad to know you have your priorities straight... Also, I'm still dying. Thought you should know."

Even though she was struggling to stay standing against the force of the wind, Bon-Bon rolled her eyes. Reaching a hoof into her saddlebags, Bon-Bon pulled out a cluster of grenades. In an almost casual fashion, she lightly tossed them into the air where the howling winds of the Windego's own blizzard took its hold and flung them across the room.

Still attempting to externally restructure Lyra’s innards, Celicetia was caught completely unprepared for the explosion that blew off her wings and tail. Reeling from the blast going off right behind her, the Golem snarled as Lyra used the distraction to slide free from her grasp and dance away.

“Wow. I guess you’re not a princess any more, huh?”

Very upset about being made into a shaved unicorn, Celicetia dived forwards, swinging her neck around as she tried to impale Lyra on her spear-sized horn. Although Celicetia’s thrashing proved that the golem was very good at impaling everything that wasn’t Lyra, her bloodlust was finally denied when Lyra grabbed hold of the humongous head-spike and redirected her aim to instead stab into one of the cracks made in the floor by their battle.

With the Golem now stuck in place, Lyra opened up on her, pounding on her head as she knocked chips and chunks off her formerly beautiful face. With a final crack, the force of Lyra’s pummeling resulted in Celicetia's horn snapping off at the base. Now no longer an effigy to their reigning monarch, the Golem's mutilated visage now more greatly resembled Lyra's old chemistry teacher, and just like that very same unfortunate stallion, the Golem reared back and gave a chilling wail of anguish at the torment Lyra had put it through.

Without hesitation, Lyra grabbed the spear-like horn from the ground and spun it between two hooves. Standing up on her hind legs, Lyra pulled the icicle back over her head and, with great flair, stabbed it into the chest of the rearing princess.

Holding the horn in place above her, Lyra chuckled and prepared the cheesiest line she could think of.

“Hey, Sweets... Would you like to ‘pick’ this one off for me?”

Bon-Bon groaned.

“... You’re the worst.”

Honed by training to recognise each other’s openings, Bon-Bon lept into action before the moment was lost. Using the Windego’s gale force winds to her advantage once again, she turned and leapt towards Lyra.

Spinning in midair, Bon-Bon used the boost in momentum to fly across the room, zeroing in on the golem’s weak spot as she stuck out her hoof and performed a gale-assisted flying leap-kick right into the broken end of the horn.

Cracks splintered out from the point of impact, spreading like veins across the Golem's surface. The broken horn had penetrated straight through into the core of the sculpture, filling its complex shape with fractures and fissures. Then, in the instant holding its shape became too much to handle, the short-lived construct shattered into ice cubes and crumbled to the floor.

Lyra and Bon-Bon rallied themselves, seeing that the two remaining Windegos had not taken this act of regicide lightly.

"There's no time to try and fight them. We've gotta go after the nutjob before she does something to her hostage."

"Somehow, I get the feeling that they don't agree with that idea."

"Then we'd better go really fast."

Ducking past the angry Windegos, Lyra and Bon-Bon dashed out of the Richcorp building and slid into the road. Catching her breath, Lyra looked to her partner for advice.

"Which way?"

Bon-Bon pointed in the direction of the trashed streetlights and flipped cars.

"Follow the trail of destruction."

So then, with a pair of enraged Windegos hot on their heels, Harpflank and Sweets dashed out into the winter storm.

Scene 11

Even before Harpflank and Sweets had contacted them, things had already been tense in the M.A.R.E control room. With the agency still operating on a beleaguered skeleton crew, Vinyl and Octavia were the only ones still entrenched at their workstations. Vinyl, broken off from her paranoid theorisation, was continuing to keep tabs on their agents progress through the storm.

Sitting adjacent to her, and trying her hardest not to let frustration consume her, was Octavia. Faced with a challenge worthy of her skill, she was busy tapping away at her keyboard, deeply invested in the task before her.

A while ago, their systems had begun picking up a M.A.R.E. distress signal, but with interference from the storm, the act of locking down its coordinates had led Octavia on quite a merry chase. However, despite the weather fueling her already short temper, she was still Octavia and via through all manner of cheatastical technowizardry she had managed to boost the signal to a level where she could reliably track and identify the sender.

Vinyl, who was still cocooned in her multi-layers of blankets, glanced away from the holo-screen to shakily wipe a spot of condensation off of her shades. Having listened to Lyra and Bon-Bon’s field report, she rubbed her hooves over her legs and shivered as she gave a sceptical response.

“Windegos, really? I thought those things were just a Hearth's Warming legend, and now you’re saying that they’re the ones who have been freezing us, and they kidnapped the host of the party?”

Bon-Bon’s voice spluttered out of the speakers, distorted by static.

“Not them ~pzzd~ically. There was a~ppfftz~nicorn, it seemed like they were using~ffzzz~ her, feeding her anger. We’re trying to follow her, but ~rrffft~ storm is slowing us down!”

“Alright I’ll look into it. Be careful out there.”

Vinyl muted the audio feed, leaning back in her chair as she brought up files on the famed mythological beasts.

“... They feed off of, cause and are empowered by the hatred and conflict between ponies. Potential origins unknown...”

She hummed in contemplation.

“It would explain an awful lot... Particularly why everypony has been so short tempered recently.”

Octavia grit her teeth as Vinyl shot a not-so-subtle glance in her direction. In return she countered with a not-so-quiet mutter that Vinyl pretended not to hear.

“...Or maybe it’s just because you’re insufferable.”

After that little exchange, the two ponies were so preoccupied with not looking at each other that Octavia almost didn’t notice when her frantic typing finally reached fruition. Her eyes widened as she realised what the computer was telling her.

“Oh? Oh! This signal... It’s Redheart’s beacon, and she’s in some sort of semi-abandoned manor house on the edge of the city!”

Vinyl glided her chair over to Tavi’s workspace.

“What? What’s she doing there? And what happened to her?”

Sipping her hot cocoa, Octavia let her snow-driven anger out through harshly spoken sarcasm.

“Oh well Vinyl, I’m sure that I can deduce all that from just staring at this blinking dot. Oh wait, I should let you do it, seeing as how you’re the expert on pointless dot-staring in this operation.”

However, contrary to Octavia’s intentions, Vinyl complied with the request, staring harder and harder as something clicked into place in her mind. Gasping, she dropped her blankets and leapt from her chair.

“OH, Oh that’s it! That’s what’s fishy! I get it now!”

Octavia raised a hoof to her brow as Vinyl danced around in excitement.

“Oh joy. Vinyl has an idea. I’m certain this will be incredibly relevant to the current situation and will prove instrumental in rescuing poor, poor Redheart from villainous clutches.”

Vinyl paused her dance, pursing her lips in indignation.

“Hey, I’ll have you know that I have had many instances of inspired thinking during my lifetime!”

Octavia leaned forward, a smirk creeping around the edges of her cocoa mug.

“Oh really? When was this, sometime before you met me?”

“Yes!... I mean, no!... Oh, just look!”

Leaning over Octavia’s shoulder, she held out a hoof to the holo-console, grabbing hold of the map with the distress signal and pulling it over to the one with the two other mystery signals. Octavia's eyes widened as the maps aligned, revealing the new signal to be located on the third point of a perfect triangle cutting right through the heart of Metropony city.

Setting her mug down, Octavia let her frustration seep out of her as she fell into a state of deep concern.

“If Redheart’s location is the latest site of the Empire’s machinations, then they could well be setting up systems similar to whatever they have in these two other locations right now... But what could it be for?”

Vinyl chewed her lip, putting the pieces together in her mind.

“Remember what Lyra and BB found out at the party? If the storm is being made by Windegos, then that means it’s powered by negative emotions... In other words, dark magic. If Trixie were to set up a Tri-nodular arcane matrix across these three, equally distributed locations, then the Empire would be able to take control over the storm! They could easily use it to freeze over any city in Equestria before they even had a chance to realise they were under attack!”

Octavia shuddered, though this time it wasn’t from the cold.

“-And the storm would only grow more powerful with each sob of despair it causes... We need to warn everypony right away.”

“Ok, I’ll tell the Commander, you keep these two in the loop.”

Nodding, Octavia re-opened the communication channel, speaking loudly to cut through the static.

“Harpflank, Sweets, we think the situation has just gotten more dire...”

Scene 12

A single snowplow trudged its way along the submerged street of a Metropony suburb. An endless veil of greys smattered against its windshield, concealing the lone driver as he languished in the futility of combating the relentless snow.

This section of the city was his territory to clear, a constant back and forth, back and forth along the same roads and byways for days on end. A wave of snow was kicked up, piling onto the pavements as the plow trundled past. Unfortunately for this driver, something else was about to clear this snow... And would do so with much more force than could be summoned up by his mere machine.

All of a sudden, a snow shockwave pulsed down the quiet street, bulging the idle snowbanks into a twenty-foot frosty tidal surge that rocked the helpless plow off of its treadwheels as it rocketed past. There was no obstacle or countermeasure that could slow the oncoming wintery wall, simply gliding over or busting through anything in its path.

The wave only broke when it reached the broken gates of a worn-out mansion, disintegrating into a gentle slope as it deposited a frost-speckled mare and her captive to a skidding halt on the frozen flagstones. Wincing at the drain on her magic, Fleur reached out to the Windego floating alongside her. The spectral beast snorted in response and leaned into her, its chilling touch serving to ease the drain on her powers.

Having ridden the snowy surf all the way home, Fleur felt the need to check whether or not her formerly struggling passenger was still alive. It seemed that having his face dragged through the snow while hung upside down had left him shivering, disoriented, in pain, exhausted and generally uncomfortable. Excellent.

“I hadn’t counted on Harpflank and Sweets attempting to defend you, but I still came away with what I wanted.”

She rolled her eyes and groaned.

“It’s just really poor luck I had to make a few more enemies in the process...”

It was unlikely they could track her through the storm, and her other Windegos would slow them long enough for her to be long gone by the time they discover the location of her home... But it was just a matter of time until she was found, now that both the Empire and those heroes would be coming after her.

Her sole remaining companion nickered at her side, circling over their captive as it spawned yet another flurry of snow. By this point, Filthy Rich was completely white and going into the first stages of hypothermia. Fleur’s face darkened as she realized what this reminded her of. This shivering wreck was in the same condition that she and Fancy were in earlier that morning when this piece of filth had left them to die.

Trotting up to the front doors, Fleur unceremoniously dumped the squealing Rich on the steps of her mansion, gracing him with a hateful glare.

“I fought so hard to try and stay here, in the place I loved and was loved in return... But it looks like I’m going to have to leave it behind regardless. So I guess you won, Filthy. You threw me out!... Savor that for however long you have left.”

His eyes widened in terror as Fleur leaned over him sadistically. As she drew near, her icy mane tickled over the fur through his torn tuxedo and her voice took on a seductive tone.

“Yes, that’s right... You have me all to yourself, just like you wanted...”

She grabbed his ear in her magic and twisted it before whispering through gritted teeth. With every hushed word, the icy spikes of his restraints bit deeper into his skin.

“Now that we’re alone, I can finally wipe the world clean of your filth!"

Fleur drew her hoof back to stomp on his face, only to stop as her Windego swiftly breezed in front of her.

“Wait...

Has not...

... Suffered.”

Fleur’s face soured, pursing her lips in distaste.

“You want me to wait? When I have him right here in front of me?”

Floating close, the spirit insisted.

“Must....

... Suffer.”

“I’ve accepted that he needs to die, but I’m not a sadist. Nothing can be gained by further torture.”

For a moment, the Windego almost looked sheepish.

“... Hungry.”

Fleur glared with mild disgust.

“You want to feed off his pain.”

Fleur sighed.

“I guess that’s the price for all of your help... Fine. We’ll let the cold finish him.”

The Windego nodded. Having assured its meal, the spirit lost interest and drifted away, idly dancing over the mansion’s steps. Grinding her teeth, Fleur pushed open the double doors and dragged Filthy inside. Windegos were detestable creatures, but they had pitied her and aided her when nopony else could. Now Fleur needed to repay that debt despite their vile intentions.

“Sweets was right... I have allied myself with monsters.”

Closing the doors behind her, Fleur stopped and looked into the frozen face of one her ponies. Her name was Springwater. She was a middle-aged pegasus. She had lost two foals and come into their care after five years on the streets. She had a nasty lung infection that Redheart hadn’t been able to ‘borrow’ enough antibiotics to fix.

Now she was locked into an eternal rictus of fear... Afraid of a pony she had come to trust.

Fleur looked away.

“But by this point... Judging them for that would be hypocritical.”

Fleur had not been idle while she had been waiting for Rich to begin his fundraiser. She had quite carefully moved every single one of her tenants back inside the building. Much like it had just the day before, the entrance hall was filled with the ponies and other creatures that Fleur had welcomed into her home. The only difference being that Fleur’s reception was now much colder.

There was not a single spark of life or motion in the entire room. Just endless clusters of silent statues, glittering in her hornlight and partially buried under the mounds of snow brought inside by her Windegos.

Rich whimpered as they weaved through the maze of frozen creatures, his fear causing him to become almost as petrified as they were.

Fleur paused, feeling a stab of sadness as she looked from face to face. Springwater was not the only one who forced her to avert her gaze. Many of the glacial statues had frozen in mid-shock, preserved before they had the chance to realize their fate. Others were not so swiftly saved... They stood flinching, locked in silent scream as the ice had taken them where they stood.

It was not how she would have wanted to immortalize them, but she had been left with no other choice. They had been entrusted to her care, relying on her when the whole world had abandoned them. They were diseased and dying, and when she had taken them in, she had taken responsibility to keep them alive.

They were her residents. They were her friends. They were her family. They were hers, and she would not allow them to die.

As Fleur neared the end of the hall, her eyes naturally drifted to the centerpiece of her gallery. Still laid behind the kitchen counter was Redheart, her pose the very picture of defiance. And there... Placed just next to her, was Fancy Pants... the very picture of suffering.

Whatever remaining guilt Fleur still held dried up. She threw Filthy Rich at the base of the counter and glared at him.

“This is your last stop, Filthy. I hope your money misses you when you’re gone.”

Tearing her eyes from her prisoner, Fleur turned her mind to her next course of action. With Harpflank and Sweets still looking for her, she couldn’t very well stay here, and vanishing into the underground was equally foolish considering that she had made herself an enemy of the Lunar Empire.

Biting back a curse, Fleur rubbed a hoof to her head in agitation.

“What the hay do I do now...?”

On sheer principle, Fleur couldn’t go anywhere without taking her ‘family’ with her. They were the only valuable possessions she had left and the thought of leaving them unguarded where they could be damaged or worse- thawed out, was of course, beyond any consideration. This left her with a problem. Even with her new powers, she would have a hard time transporting this many statues without being noticed... and even then, she would need to find another space large enough to hold them all.

Fleur groaned at the conundrum. She had lost many of her ‘friends’ and contacts at around the same time she had lost her fame and fortune. There was nowhere she could reliably hide, and nopony would be willing to help her.

Just as she was beginning to contemplate simply making a permanent residence buried in the snow, she was roused from her thoughts by a confused snuffling sound. Looking up, she saw her Windego had finally followed her inside and was currently floating around in circles in directionless agitation.

“What is it? Do you sense something?”

The Windego had just turned around, perhaps to whisper more words into her ear, when suddenly several beams of magic lanced out and struck the spirit, ensnaring it around the head, neck and body in about five different places. Writhing, the Windego cried out in frustration as the snares dragged it to the floor. The spirit’s outline began to blur as it tried numerous times to escape by dispersing into air and snow, but every time it tried, the magical bands would contract and force it to retain its shape.

Before Fleur had a chance to figure out the source of this attack, a cruel voice cut across the frozen hall.

“You know... You had almost gotten Trixie worried when your interference managed to get M.A.R.E’s attention.”

As horrified as she was at the treatment of her ally, Fleur still jumped at the voice, twisting upwards to glare at the top of the grand staircase. There, flanked by a pair of stoic Lunatrons, was a pony she had heard of only in the frantic tones of startled newscasters and the hushed voices of the uprooted ponies sheltering under her roof. The scourge of Metropony, Trixie Lulamoon.

Raising a hoof to her lips, Trixie seemed to chuckle at the absurdity of a pony such as her ever having cause to feel worried.

“Yet instead it seems that Rich’s botched plans have served the Empire better than we could have possibly have hoped. Not only have you kept Harpflank and Sweets occupied, but you have brought Trixie the one thing she needed to complete her master plan!”

On the stairs below her, a team of specialised arcane-containment Lunatrons rushed forwards, wrapping the Windego in more chains as they tried to drag it away. Watching the display, Trixie laughed maliciously.

“By analyzing the magical signature of this beast, Trixie will be able to calibrate her Meteorological Actuator to take control over this artificial storm! If you hadn’t so graciously delivered one right to us, it may yet have taken days before Trixie would be able to track and capture one of these creatures. Now, Trixie will soon have total control over the very same power that once brought ponykind to the brink of extinction!... And it’s all thanks to you and your vendetta against that one pitiful stallion!”

She smirked, extending an upturned hoof expectantly as she eyed Fleur’s captive from under the brim of her hat.

“Speaking of whom, Trixie will be taking him back now... If you would be so kind?”

Fleur bristled, icicles forming on her coat as she snarled a reply filled with equal coldness.

“I will give nothing to a disease like you! I will not let either of you poison this city any longer!”

A spear of ice formed from the ground next to her and lined itself up with Trixie’s head.

“You have brought this winter upon us, and I will return it to you tenfold!”

Trixie smirked as a bolt of plasma soared through the maze of icy statues and vaporised the spear before it could launch.

“Actually... That was going to be Trixie’s second request...”

Fleur leaped back as a dozen more plasma shots melted the floor where she had just stood, glancing around in a panic. In mechanical unison, a horde of Lunatron drones came pouring out from the side corridors leading off of the entrance hall, fanning out among the ice structures and surrounding her as their hip-mounted plasma cannons rained suppressing fire onto her position.

Fleur reeled under the assault. It was sheer overconfidence that she had not anticipated that the empire would not simply give up and leave her mansion alone after going to such lengths to acquire it. She had simply assumed her own safety, and had become so accustomed to those corridors leading to collapsed, disused rooms that she had not once considered them as potential ambush spots.

Fleur had nowhere to retreat to, struggling to hurl ice at the advancing machines while also ensuring that none of the frozen residents got caught in the crossfire. She took a nasty hit to the shoulder, burning her fur as she fell to the ground.

“No! This is my home! I can’t allow you to... Argh!”

Fleur went into full defence, struggling to hold up a protective ice barrier as the Lunatrons relentlessly poured plasma at her, turning her ice into steam as fast as she could create it.

Watching Fleur struggle under her own personal sauna, Trixie stifled a diabolical chuckle. She took a small capsule from one of the Lunatrons at her side, twisting it into activation before using her magic to throw it to a rolling stop at the base of Fleur’s sweltering hooves.

Fleur retched as a cloud of gas burst out from the grenade, quickly polluting her lungs and bringing swift paralyzation to her spasming limbs. Falling to the ground, Fleur had only enough time to gurgle angrily before falling wholly unconscious. With the target down, the other robots ceased fire, standing to attention as Trixie barked orders at them from her vantage point.

“Take her out of Trixie’s sight. Trixie wasn’t expecting such a perfect bait to walk right into her hooves, but as M.A.R.E.’s ‘finest’ will soon come looking for her...”

She grinned in sadistic anticipation.

“It seems Filthy Rich actually screwed up in a positive way for once. By the time Harpflank and Sweets get here, Trixie’s ultimate weapon will be ready and waiting.”

She heard a snort of frustration as the stallion in question was carried up the staircase by one of her mechanical servants, having already been dispatched to free him from his icy restraints. Despite his prolonged exposure to intense cold, Rich still had enough ire left in him to yell back at Trixie through shuddering lips.

“It was y-you who forced me to hasten our p-plans, remember? That c-crazy mare could have k-k-killed me because of your impatience!”

He breathed heavily, clearly having been greatly shaken by the turn of events and was now struggling to regain control over the situation.

“I d-demand an escort back to my offices. My event was r-ruined by this t-travesty, so I need to return and run d-damage control...”

Rubbing his hooves together, Rich shivered as Trixie cast a minor heating spell to get his blood flowing again.

“... Then comfort my poor, d-distraught Diamond Tiara.”

Trixie rolled her eyes.

“Your daughter is fine, you imbecile. Besides, you’d never make it with all those Windegos out for your blood. You’re safer here. Trixie’s plan is finally reaching fruition... Soon all opposition to our Lady’s Empire will be snuffed out like a candle in a hurricane.”

She grinned wide, smashing her hooves together as she imagined the idiotic forms of Harpflank and Sweets being crushed between them. Flinging out her cape with dramatic flair, Trixie swept from the room as she and a hesitant, trembling Filthy Rich made haste to the site of Trixie’s ultimate revenge.

“Do not look so apprehensive, Rich... Show a little enthusiasm! For one night only, The Great and Powerful Trixie is going to put on the greatest exclusive show you’re ever going to see!”

This time, her diabolical laughter could not possibly be restrained.

“... And it’s going to be a killer performance.”

As the entrance hall emptied of robots and villains, silence once again reigned over the crowd of frozen creatures. The air still steamed from plasma fire, but the raging winter storm outside was quickly sucking the room of all its residual warmth and denying the captured creatures any chance of mobility or freedom.

However, hidden behind the food counter at the base of the stairs, one icicle had been the recipient of a stray plasma bolt, and was now replaced by a gently steaming puddle. Though the disappearance of the ice was easily explained, more mysterious was the missing medical bags that been laying by the side of the counter and the shotgun that had vanished from underneath its lid.

While Trixie had designed her machines with the firepower to overwhelm even Fleur’s incredible abilities, they were lacking in several other areas. In one such example, as the Lunatrons had departed to obey Trixie’s will, their simple AI had failed to notice a trail of droplets leading deeper into the corridors of the collapsing mansion.

Scene 13

Lyra exploded out of the snowbank, gasping for air. Overbalancing from the effort of her leap, she fell face-first back into it, burying herself barrel deep in the chilled white icing spread thickly over what had once been a road. Planted good and deep, the only part of her that stuck out of the snow was her instrument-emblazoned rump, with her frost-dampened tail marking her location as it flapped like a flag in the gale.

Not three meters away, Bon-Bon struggled against the deepening snow with every step, struggling to draw her costumed hooves from the barrel-high snowdrift as she painstakingly ‘swam’ her way down the frozen river.

Gritting her teeth against the chatter, Bon-Bon shot an aggravated glance at the ghostly figures spiraling endlessly over their heads. The Windegos had not once stopped harassing them since they left the party, and had hounded them with the most relentless onslaught of supernatural-natural forces that the pair had ever seen. For a while, they had tried to scare them off by fighting them head-on, but the monstrous spectres were made from the very wind and hail around them, making their efforts quite literally as useless as throwing punches at a hurricane.

Submerging once more, Lyra burrowed her way through this latest mound of snow, wriggling, worm-like through the frozen mush. She gained momentum as she scurried, diving down before curving up and breaching the surface like a leaping dolphin, allowing her to take a huge gulp of air before she hit the snow once again. This time she twisted in mid-air, avoiding further submersion by landing spread-eagle on her back and sliding a few feet. While laying there, Lyra’s sneezing came back worse than ever, her convulsions making her hop off the ground with every breath.

Bon-Bon floundered forwards another few feet, yelling into her communicator as Lyra’s uncontrollable sneezing drove her to unwittingly mark out the grooves of a childish snow-pegasus in the snow around her.

“V-Vinyl! Thi-This i-is insane! We’re not get-t-tting anywhere!”

Barely audible over the howling wind and the haunting whinnies of the Windigoes, Vinyl returned a staticy reply.

“Well, you’re going to have to. The readings are getting stronger, which probably means that they’re getting ready to start. You need to get in there and stop it right now!”

Bon-Bon struggled to get her hooves on the surface, rising a few inches out of the snowbank. Before she could take even a single step, a Windigo swooped down right in front of her and blew directly in her face, sending her flying back with the force of a hurricane. She tumbled end over end as ice crystals began to form all over her body, a strangled scream squeaking out of her lips as another jolt of cold cut through her entire being.

Octavia’s voice cut in, composure cracking under a worried tremor.

“Bon-Bon? Bon-Bon, what’s happening? Your vitals just plummeted! Bon-Bon?”

Shivering uncontrollably, Bon-Bon flinched as something disturbed the snow next to her. A moment later, she realised that Lyra had rolled over to her side and was wrapping her legs and tail around both of them to keep warm. She returned the gesture with senseless limbs, feeling not the damp of their fur, the brittle brush of their tails or the texture of their snowsuits. Lyra was as cold as she was, but even still, she felt a kind of warmth pass between them. A warmth perhaps not measured in degrees.

As her strength returned, Bon-Bon heard an unexpected sound. Something about the sight of them leaning upon one another made the Windegos flinch and nicker with bestial fear. With the swoosh of the howling winds, they shot up into the sky and circled like vultures overhead, waiting for a moment of weakness before they struck.

Bon-Bon slid her foreleg underneath Lyra’s barrel and helped lift her to her hooves. Stumbling, Lyra slumped onto her right shoulder as she shuddered from deep, throaty coughs. In true heroic fashion, they had made it this far by leaping across the city’s rooftops, but here in the suburbs, buildings rarely stood higher than two floors and the snow was so deep that any citizens unfortunate to live in a bungalow were now almost completely submerged. Despite this, at the far end of the street, Bon-Bon could just about see the outline of their destination, a mansion standing out like a mountain on the edge of her visual horizon.

Bon-Bon gave Lyra the warmest smile she could muster.

“Can you go on?”

Lyra’s bunged-up words rang clear in spite of the gale.

“Doesn’t m-matter. We’re a-allmost there.”

Bon-Bon grimly nodded, trying to contain her own sniffles.

“Just lean on me. We’ll sink less if we s-share our weight.”

Lyra sniffed up a trail of snot, coughing slightly as they kept on walking. The Windegos kept their distance now, wary of the two friends as they carved their path. Just when it seemed like they were going to make it, an imposing shape loomed out of the snowy void, filling the whole street as it moved to block the mansion's gateway. As it neared, the giant took on a familiar equine shape, the snow muffling its steps as it very slowly plodded out to intercept the huddled duo.

Lyra gurgled phlegm as she groaned.

“Gaahgl... Not now!”

The Lunatron stood five stories tall and was built thickly enough to make an elephant look anorexic in comparison. Every leg had the radius of a jumbo jet, the head and body were angular chunks of almost solid, seamless metal and every joint was completely covered by deflecting sheets of heavy armor plating, even coming up to the chin like it was wearing a titanium turtleneck. This Lunatron was nothing less than an absolute tank.

“Harpflank and Sweets. Not very smart wearing such light clothing in weather like this. As you can see, Trixie had dressed quite heavily for the season... My brand-new hi-Yield Engine Thermal Isolator Lunatron cannot be blown over by any wind and has armor so strong that not even your so called ‘super strength’ could damage it.”

There was an amplified giggle and slurp of of what could have been hot cocoa before Trixie smugly continued.

“What do you think? Does it not exceed all expectations?”

“I think you can shove it right up your a-a-actchoo!”

As Lyra dealt with another sneezing fit, Bon-Bon cast a skeptical look at the armored titan.

“It’s p-pretty tough alright. But that thing looks like it can b-barely move! We could probably walk around you before you could t-take a single step!”

“Quite true Sweets, it is a bit of a cumbersome beast. But this time, Trixie doesn’t need to take a single step... Because Trixie has already won.”

Vinyl’s staticy voice began yelling in their ears.

“Guys! Really Bad! Really, Really bad!”

Behind the Lunatron, the silhouette of the mansion lit up as a beam of light stabbed its way up into the sky, penetrating the roiling flesh of the dark clouds in synchronicity with two identical beams slicing up the storm from the other distant corners of Metropony.

“It’s starting...”

Across the entire city, the snow stopped. No longer falling, the billion powdery fragments hung in midair, suspended like an infinite expanse of stars over the streets and buildings, as if ponderously confused at the sudden halt of gravity. The howling winds vanished, replaced by an unnatural stillness. Echoing loudly in the unmoving air, the uneven wheezing of Lyra and Bon-Bon’s puffing breaths was the only noise in the deafening silence.

Bon-Bon had heard old pegasi tales about the wild storms of pre-unification Equestria, and of battered flyers being lured to carelessness by the deathly calm at their center. But this was something far worse than that... Not merely the deceptive respite in the eye of the storm, but the scraping hooks of dark magic forcing that eye wide open for torture and brainwashing. New commands were being issued, new programing forced into an unwilling subject. The black clouds glowed with a sickly internal light, filled with dark energy as the planet's entire atmosphere convulsed in instinctive horror.

The Windegos, who had been circling in confusion over their loss of power, were hit by this convulsion and contorted in pain. Coming apart at the seams, they shrieked and whinnied in animalistic agony before disintegrating into countless icy flakes. With their physical appearance destroyed, all that remained was their lingering spectral aura which then faded into ghostly motes of light that was drawn to metallic spire rising out from the shattered mansion roof, surrounding it like fireflies.

Trixie took notice of the glow around the spire, laughing with malicious glee.

“Ahahahaha! Behold, Harpflank and Sweets! Trixie has stolen the gift of the pegasi! The very sky itself, and all that lay under it, now belong to Trixie... No bird shall fly, no sun will shine... no breath will be taken that Trixie does not allow into your wretched lungs! The full, unmatched might of nature now bows to Trixie... And so shall you!”

All of a sudden, the wind started up again. Spiraling, twisting, focusing, swirling together into a concentrated tornado tendril that began snaking down from the illuminated clouds above. There was a blinding blur of movement as every suspended particle of snow across the entire city all flew directly into the tornado, turning it into a dazzling drill of compressed and compacted cold.

Clutching each other even harder in shock, Lyra and Bon-Bon leapt onto the roof of the closest suburban house an instant before the pressure-blasted mountain of frost crashed down on them with the unstoppable force of a dozen avalanches.

Trixie’s laughter only continued as the snownado changed course, demolishing several houses as it swung back towards Harpflank and Sweets. Seeing the force of nature hurtling towards them, Bon-Bon gulped.

“This might be a problem.”

Scene 14

For the second time that day, Fleur woke up as a prisoner. Blinking her bleary eyes to the open position, she found her vision blocked by the frozen mess of her own mane splayed out across her face, its matted clumps only falling open where the length of her muzzle peeked through.

Grunting with the effort, she rolled onto her side, making her hair shift aside in the process. Now that her vision was clear, Fleur discovered that her drug-nap had ended with her positioned uncomfortably on the floor of her own bathroom. It would seem that in the short time since they had moved in, Trixie’s underlings had hastily converted the once-luxurious suite into a temporary jail cell.

Without any of the security features of a real jail cell, they had been forced to bodily bind their prisoner in place. Shifting around, Fleur found that her hooves had been painfully hogtied by small, but tightly interwoven chains. Distressingly, these chains had no lock, as both ends had been magically fused together to form a seamless loop with no means of release.

This crude but uncompromising restraint would have been cruel enough to use on an ordinary pony, but to a unicorn of Fleur’s stature, the binding of her long limbs so close to her chest was causing her muscles to scream in prolonged protest.

Abandoning the naive notion of sitting up, Fleur flopped back to the ground, huffing in disgust. She could still feel some of the drugs in her system, blocking her magic with searing headaches and nullifying every every attempt to direct her ice powers along her hooves or horn.

Squeezing her eyes shut once more, the details of Fleur’s recent life began to surface from the polluted chemical haze of her memories.

“Rich... and Trixie. She took my home... My Windego. I’ll destroy her!”

Anger boiling inside her gut, Fleur tried again to break through the chemical blockage keeping her powers dormant. Although her head throbbed from the pressure, her horn remained dull and the surrounding temperature remained annoyingly constant. Instead, her unfruitful act of rebellion only earned her the full attention of her two Lunatron guards.

Drowsy and preoccupied as she was, even something as out-of-place as murderous robots in her bathroom had completely passed under Fleur’s notice, largely due to the unnatural stillness with which they stood guard. But now, after detecting an attempt at escape, the twin drones stepped forward and leveled their weapons at her in mechanical symmetry.

Finding herself right in the line of fire of four pre-charged plasma lances, Fleur didn’t dare to move a muscle. Agonisingly tense seconds dragged on into agonisingly tense minutes as the death machines continued to hold her in their deadly stare-down, leaving only the flickering glow of plasma as the only movement in the room.

As the moment dragged on and on, Fleur’s hope slowly began to trickle away.

“... So that’s it then? If I try to escape, you’ll just kill me.”

Fleur grit her teeth, filled with bitterness at her stupidity. With shuddering breath, she admitted her failure.

“Even after everything I sacrificed... I still couldn’t stop them. I just gave them everything they needed to destroy Metropony.”

Fleur rested her head back on the tiles and became very silent. Grief and loathing spiraling inside of her, she just laid there and waited for robotic death.

Although the Lunatrons hadn’t been programmed with any protocols for mercy, the lack of resistance from their prisoner made them re-evaluate her as being a non-threat. Resetting to their standard guard mode, they stepped back, raising their weapons slightly as they returned to observational standby.

Then the door slammed open and knocked one of them flat on its butt.

Redheart dived into the room as she flipped through the air and performed a leaping tackle. She body-slammed into the hull of the second drone, throwing off its aim as it fired. Plasma bolts streaked from the drone’s lances, detonating the bathroom wall as Redheart, with practiced ease, ducked under them and then swiftly pounced onto the robot’s back.

From her position wedged up against the bathtub, Fleur flinched as she was hit with an eruption of debris and plaster from the collateral damage. Undaunted, Redheart rode the robot rodeo-style, riding out its frantic thrashing as she grappled its weapons and directed them up towards the ceiling where they couldn't shoot her.

With a crack of breaking wood, the other Lunatron ripped the bathroom door off its hinges and leapt back to its hooves. Following through with programmed hostility, it immediately opened fire on Redheart and, in its haste, quickly blasted a molten hole in the side of the drone she was riding on.

Feeling the droid go limp, Redheart hopped off its back and in the same motion, kicked it across the room... which subsequently knocked the other robot back to the ground. Swiftly striding up to her prey, Redheart reared up on her hind legs and pulled out her custom shotgun from the strap of her saddlebags. Confident that the sound of the storm had covered up the sounds of her swift execution, she leveled the gun at the Lunatron’s skull-unit and and turned it to scrap.

Overcome with the brutality and efficiency of the destruction, Fleur was lifted out of her despair only so she could instead gape at Redheart in total shock.

"Red... How did you... When did you..."

Taking control over her spluttering, Fleur scrunched up her eyes, trying to come to terms with the fact that there was a side to her friend that she hadn't seen before.

"Just who are you?"

Redheart hoisted her shotgun over her shoulder and thought about her answer. Eventually, she just told her the exact truth.

"I'm an agent of M.A.R.E. I fight to protect this city, and I do so in any capacity required of me. Some days I heal the ponies who have nopony else to help them. Some days I heal the ponies who are needed to keep everyone else safe from harm."

Redheart frowned and looked away.

"But whatever I do, no matter what day, I try to help however I can. That is who I am.”

Her eyes flicked back to Fleur. They were brimming with the hurt of betrayal, but also a faint hopefulness that trickled out in the form of a question.

"Do you remember who you are?"

Fleur slumped her head onto the tiled floor, spluttering her tangled thoughts.

“Red... Everything I did, I just... I couldn’t-”

She sobbed.

“I was going to lose him, Red! He was dying right in front of me! I couldn’t... I just couldn’t...”

As her words trailed off, Redheart knelt down and rested her free hoof on Fleur’s mane, gently brushing the ice crystals free from the sodden mess. Eventually, her patience was rewarded with another coherent sentence.

“I... I’m as bad as they are. I treated all of you like my possessions. I... I just didn’t care what any of you wanted, as long as I got what I wanted. I... Oh Celestia...”

She curled up as much as her restraints would allow, scrunching her eyes closed.

“I wanted vengeance so badly that I took the Windego’s power and ignored that I was only helping them make this winter even worse! And now I’ve played into Trixie’s hooves and given her everything she needs to blow away all of Equestria!”

The comforting hoof stopped, pulling away as Fleur rolled over, staring at the side of her bathtub with the typical bathtub-revelation degree of shame.

“That’s who I am, isn’t it? Just another deranged monster plaguing the citizens of Metropony.”

Fleur closed her eyes and sank into despair once more. Or, at least she tried to. There was a bizarre sensation spreading across her bound limbs, which was proving to be highly distracting from the standard despair-diving protocol that Fleur was attempting to adhere to.

It was a few moments before something clicked in Fleur’s head and she finally recognised the foreign feeling as being the one known as ‘warmth’.

Fleur lifted her head, looking over her shoulder in confusion. While she had been occupied with her shame, Redheart had retrieved a laser tool from her saddlebags and was now cutting through her restraints.

“Red? What are you doing?”

“Helping.”

The chains snapped as Red pulled the heated metal in different directions. Baffled, Fleur shifted back into a sitting position, rubbing her legs where the chains had chafed her. After a moment, Redheart put her laser tool back into her bag and then returned with a small injection needle.

“This should get your magic working again. Hold still.”

Fleur frowned, keeping still as the needle slipped into her leg.

“Red, why are you trusting me? I’ve actually gone insane and attacked you. This... You should have left me locked up.”

Redheart dabbed a swab at the bead of blood left from the injection. Her eyes drifted up to meet with Fleur’s.

“Do you want to help?

“...Yes.”

Redheart stood up and retrieved her shotgun.

“Then let’s save the world.”

Scene 15

Sneaking through the ruined mansion was actually quite easy, purely by virtue of it being ruined. Trixie had seen no point in moving her drones or engineers into the collapsed rooms of the mansion because, being collapsed, those rooms were of no use to her.

While the two mares normally avoided the damaged sections of their home for safety, in the current circumstance the risk was more than worth it. With Fleur’s ice powers working to stabilize piles of rubble and bridge any gaps in the floor, and Redheart’s training serving to warn them of any passing Lunatron patrols, the pair of them were able to use their intimate knowledge of the building's layout to reach the ballroom without being detected.

Hiding in the shadows of the upper balcony, Redheart and Fleur scoped out the heart of Trixie’s operation, beholding the construct that made her sinister plan possible.

Needless to say, Fleur did not agree with the changes made to Fancy's ancestral home. It may have been falling apart, but it had still been theirs. In the years since Filthy had taken their company, they had poured all of their time and effort into turning it into a place that would welcome and shelter anyone who needed it. Now, it was nothing more than the dark, cavernous heart of a war machine.

The mansion’s sinkhole, a devastating mudslide that spiraled down into a fathomless abyss, was now filled with machinery. Metal gantries were drilled into the rock and soil of the jagged walls of the pit, crisscrossing the vast hole like the intricate strands of a colossal spider web. In the middle of this web was a massive reaching pylon that was so large it not only descended deep into the bowels of the earth, but also shot upward, breaking through the roof and pointing accusingly towards the sky above.

It was from the top of this spire that a blinding beam of energy sparked and crackled, tainting the clouds with an unnatural color that was swiftly spreading to the distant horizon. Tethered like dogs to a post, two Windegos writhed in electric chains, utterly bound to the machine that had stolen their power.

Seeing what Trixie had built, Fleur grappled with alternating flashes of guilt and denial, struggling to reconcile the thought that she had helped the Empire execute their insane plan. Recognizing that neither of these emotions were particularly helpful, she turned to Redheart and matched her grim expression.

“How do we stop it?”

Straight-faced, Redheart nodded in the direction of the sinkhole and the eerie light that was emanating from it.

From her hiding spot, Fleur could not see down into the pit, but as she turned her attention downwards, she found she did not need to. Echoing out from the abyss were the unmistakable sounds of a feral creature in torment, drowning out even the whinnies from its siblings chained up high above.

“The Windego I brought here? Then she must be using it to control the others. We need to get down there.”

Again, Redheart nodded, not sparing even a whisper to give away their position. She paused in thought for a moment, then holstered her shotgun.

“Wait until I get close to the hole, then make a distraction.”

Fleur grimaced at the risk in such a plan, but otherwise said nothing as Redheart turned from her and vanished into the shadows. Biting her lip, Fleur leaned back into the pillar she was hiding behind, and looked out again, this time seeking a target for her ‘distraction’.

Sitting in a comfy chair situated adjacent to Fleur’s hiding place, The Great and Powerful Trixie sipped her cocoa and giggled to herself. Her chair was placed directly in front of the main control console for her weather machine, which was situated on one of the tower’s larger gantries, just below the line where the hole began to sink into the earth. A pair of Lunatron guards stood on either side of her, standing to attention in the same way as the other twenty-or-so Lunatrons that were just standing around in the ballroom, awaiting further orders.

Trixie had her eyes eagerly glued to large monitor which displayed live footage from the Lunatron outside. Using rapid but precise twitches of her magic, Trixie manipulated the remote controls for her YETI at the same time as she typed commands into the command console of her meteorological actuator array.

To anypony without Trixie’s intellect, the strain of calculating relentless, deadly weather patterns at the same time as directing a walking war machine would be an impossible task. But Trixie was fueled by extra-strength-cocoa and her unrelenting desire to destroy her hated nemesi... With those things powering her, she made the incredible act of coordination seem as if it were mere child's play.

With a devilish smirk, the multitasking megalomaniac directed both of her creations to herd Harpflank and Sweets into each other’s attacks, the hurricane winds blowing the battered heroes time and again into the lumbering blows of her sluggish titan.

As the merciless battle continued, each successful blow made Trixie cackle with delight. Gritting her teeth, Fleur found Trixie’s mirth only caused her own anger to spike higher and higher.

Fleur snapped her attention away from the MAA spire as another pony walked into her line of sight, trotting across the cracked ballroom floor to rendezvous with Trixie. After seeing who it was, Fleur had to actually freeze her hooves to the ground to keep herself from pouncing out of cover right then and there.

Filthy Rich had tried to clean himself up with a shower and a change of clothes after his kidnapping, taking one of Fancy Pants’ formal dinner jackets from their closet as he tried to groom his greasy mane back into it’s usual state.

Despite his efforts though, the whole experience had left him incredibly flustered. Still shivering even through the effects of a warmth-enhancement spell, his eyes were nervously darting around, perhaps still searching for a vengeful mare waiting to pounce from the shadows.

Barely restraining her urge to pounce from the shadows, Fleur’s hateful eyes didn’t leave him for a second, burning a hole in the back of his head with the force of her pure loathing.

Trixie didn’t spare the shaky stallion a glance as he approached her, instead tutting with annoyance as Sweets pulled three grenades from her saddlebags and flung them into the vacuum pull of her snowy tornado. With an explosion that could be heard even inside the mansion, the concussive force blew apart the swirling wind spear, coating the landscape in yet another layer of frigid dust.

Trixie’s smirk barely twitched, instead instructing her Lunatron’s head panels to swing open and hose Sweets in a fresh hailstorm of twin-chaingun fire. As Sweets darted between newly-deepened snowdrifts, Trixie inputted new calculations into the MAA, directing a more literal hailstorm to fall down upon her enemy as chunks of ice the size of washing machines started plummeting out of the glowing clouds overhead.

Clicking her tongue, Trixie’s eyes never left the screen as she spoke.

“Is there something you need, Rich? Or are you just here to bask in the glory of Trixie’s absolute victory?”

The business tycoon jumped a little, thinking that Trixie had been ignoring him completely.

“When... When we made our arrangement, my personal safety was assured as part of our contract. You said that no matter what became of Equestria, that my daughter and I would be protected by the Empire’s finest soldiers.”

Trixie hunched her shoulders, minor annoyance creeping into her tone.

“Trixie gave you her robotic minions to command. If you commanded them poorly, then it seems that the ice-witch’s little escapade was of your own doing.”

Filthy squared his shoulders, glowering at the back of Trixie’s off-white mane as she kept her attention solely focused on the monitors in front of her.

“Your machines couldn’t even lay a scratch on that... That thing!”

He flung a hoof in Trixie’s direction, trembling in a manner that may have not been entirely from the cold.

“It took at least thirty of your tin soldiers to subdue Fleur! How can I trust Tiara’s life to your assurances when it takes a whole legion of them to deal with any real threat?”

Although her head remained fixed forwards, Trixie’s tone of voice was enough to communicate her raised eyebrow.

“Do you want that many?”

“No, I want some real guards. Like those bat-winged soldiers I’ve heard Her Highness has been training.”

Finally, Trixie turned around.

“My Lady Luna does not give up her personal guard lightly, Rich. If you ask this, then you will have exhausted all favors I can grant you.”

Filthy Rich hesitated for a second before nodding.

“I can’t risk something like this happening again.”

Trixie sighed and turned back to her battle. While she had been distracted, Harpflank and Sweets had taken shelter underneath the towering YETI unit, using its large body as a shield against the heavy hail as they punched away at its impervious armor.

“Very well. You are a valuable asset and Trixie is sure Her Highness can be persuaded to part with some of her troops should you become a target. Not that Trixie anticipates much resistance now that the forces of nature have been brought to heel at our hooves.”

A moment passed in silence as Rich looked distractedly off to one side. Trixie directed a gale force wind to send the heroes tumbling out from their little safe spot and back into the showering hail. Despite the clear dismissal, Rich did not leave, forcing Trixie to turn back to him with severe annoyance.

“Was that all?”

Filthy ground his teeth together, still finding it hard to stand Trixie’s haughty dismissals.

“Right now, I need something to kill that witch with. I just need to know for sure that she’s dead before I can return home and comfort my poor, distraught Diamond Tiara...”

Trixie scoffed and rolled her eyes.

“Distraught? Your filly is likely searching for your will right now, you deluded fool. But fine. If it gets you out of Trixie’s vicinity faster, then by all means believe your daughter loves you.”

Focusing back on the battle outside, Trixie levitated a plasma rifle out of her cloak and thrust it in Filthy’s direction.

“Here, point the thin end at the thing you want to become dead.”

Fleur was able to relax as Rich turned and left the ballroom. Although the look on his face when he realised she was free would be a delight to behold, there were more important things to focus on than her revenge.

Fleur glanced up at a flash of light in the corner of her eye. Perched on the balcony on the other side of the room, Redheart was using the lens of her M.A.R.E. communicator to let Fleur know she was in position.

Receiving the signal, Fleur stepped out from her hiding place and announced her presence. ‘Announced’, in this context, being used to describe a beam of ice magic blasted at Trixie’s head.

Unluckily, Trixie chose that moment to glance up at the distracting light reflected in the metal of the spire.

“What is... Ah!”

As Fleur took her shot, Trixie reacted by spinning around, grabbing one of her drones in her magic, and holding it in front of her like a shield. A second later, Trixie dropped the frozen robot onto the gantry floor with a clang, peeking up at Fleur from under her hat.

“So, you finally decided to show some spine? A very foolish move. Drones, destroy her!”

Moving in mechanical unison, the twenty-something drones turned and opened fire, peppering the raised balcony with plasma blasts. Avoiding the barrage, Fleur took off at a sprint, dashing around the perimeter of the ballroom as the searing plasma tore away at the walls and floor behind her and turned the balcony into a pock-marked mess of molten craters.

Narrowly evading the drones targeting, Fleur scoffed and drew her powers into her horn before discharging her magic with a series of strobe-like flashes. Deciding to be as distracting as possible, Fleur raised her voice in a taunting tone.

“Of course I’m here, Trixie. What kind of a host would I be if I left my guests unattended to?”

With Fleur’s suicidal dash holding all their attention, none of the drones noticed as her magic began to take hold of the ruined tiles beneath their hooves. Suddenly, the stationary drones were picked off one by one as lethal ice-spikes shot out of the ground and pierced their undersides with systematic precision.

Her long legs pumping away, Fleur kicked off a wall as she turned the corner of the balcony and fired off a midair ice beam that took out another three Lunatrons.

“Unfortunately, you’ve all outstayed your welcome!”

Trixie snarled, struggling to divide her attention between fighting Harpflank and Sweets and keeping her eye on the frosty unicorn devastating her forces.

“No! Trixie has worked too hard for this victory! Why does this wretched city insist on throwing these superpowered freaks at Trixie? Trixie is the only one great enough to deserve such power!”

Forgetting Harpflank and Sweets for a moment, Trixie turned and rose from her chair, flaring her cape as she reached for her secret weapon.

It was at this moment that Redheart made her move. One of the quirks of M.A.R.E’s equipment, distributed by the ‘brilliant’ minds at ExTech, was that every single staff position... be it agent, chef or janitor, was provided with their own personal explosives just as part of their standard equipment. Because of this, even Redheart’s medical bags were likewise equipped with a supply of regulation ‘medical’ grenades.

Holding her shotgun in the coil of her tail, Redheart leapt from her hiding place and vaulted the banister, teeth gritted as she tossed one of these grenades into a cluster of Lunatrons congregating by the rim of the sinkhole.

As the explosion assisted in thoroughly thinning out the enemy ranks, Fleur chanced slowing down for a moment as she shot a stream of ice directly underneath her falling friend. Redheart hit the ice with all four hooves, crouched down and tail streaming behind her as the dedicated ice slide slid her rocketing towards the sinkhole at high speed.

At the last moment, Redheart leapt, using the momentum to body slam one of the remaining Lunatrons at full force. Falling into the pit, she landed on top of the drone as they both crashed on top of one of the massive support struts holding the spire in place.

Looking down in shock, Trixie watched as the earth mare passed her shotgun from her tail into her hooves and dispatched the pinned Lunatron with one point-blank shot that blasted its torso into a mangle of oil and gears.

“What is...? Ah!”

With uncharacteristic terror, Trixie yelped as she dived for cover behind her control panel. She barely reacted in time as Redheart turned her gun upwards and fired another three shots in the showmare’s direction.

Sweeping her cloak around her, Trixie pressed her back into the Meteorological Actuator Array and hissed as the shells pinged off of the metal inches away.

"How dare you! Trying to harm the Great and Powerful Trixie?! That was the biggest mistake of your life!"

Reaching into her cloak, Trixie pulled out a metal cylinder the size of a briefcase. Grabbing one end, Trixie crammed her hoof into the other and twisted. With a deep, menacing 'clunk', the cylinder expanded in size, revealing an enhanced plasma core glowing with swirling streams of teal and lavender energies. The end of the device telescoped outwards, twisting and lengthening until the entire weapon reached the length of a minivan, ending in a blunt wide-mouthed cannon-barrel with a handle on top, also glowing with the same sinister energy.

"If you wish to fight Trixie, then prepare to face Trixie's Maximum Buster Cannon!"

Snarling, Trixie used her magic to heft the weapon at both ends, wielding it like an oversized minigun. Charging the plasma core, blinding light shot down the cannon’s barrel as Trixie hopped out from cover and fired a bathtub-sized blob of energy at Redheart. With death bearing down on her, Redheart flung herself off of the strut and dived into the abyss moments before Trixie’s attack obliterated her vantage point in a devastating explosion.

Slightly smouldering from the blast, Redheart tumbled down into the pit, bouncing once off the side of the sinkhole before harshly landing on another support pole two levels down. Redheart choked, her body folded around the pole she had slammed into, winding her and cracking several of her ribs.

Fighting to get her breath back, Redheart scrambled to grab the pole with her hooves, desperately clinging onto it as she struggled not to slide off and plummet further into the sinkhole. Gritting her teeth in agony, Redheart directed her eyes straight upwards, staring past the disheveled strands of mane that had been knocked loose from her bun.

Having already been eroded by the natural process of geology, the unstable ground beneath the ballroom had been further dislodged by the plasma blast, greatly widening the sinkhole as tonnes upon tonnes of earth and rock crumbled away and plummeted into the yawning caverns below.

Redheart moved immediately, swinging from her pole and leaping towards the spire. Grabbing onto one of many protrusions, Redheart pressed herself up against the cold metal and tensed up, waiting for the cacophony of crumbling stone to fade away.

Once she was sure the avalanche had passed her by, Redheart let out a sigh and grimaced. Feeling the acute pain in her chest, her medical mind helpfully informed her that any further physical activity would only worsen her injuries and limit her odds of recovery. Her head dipped and she growled in refusal.

“... Stick to the plan.”

Gasping, Redheart forced herself to move, climbing hoof-over-hoof as she descended the spire, heading towards the core.

Scene 16

Outside in the Sanctuary courtyard, Lyra and Bon-Bon were catching their breath. Trixie’s YETI had ground to a halt and, while the weather had not died down, it was no longer adapting to their tactics or targeting them specifically. They were both very okay with this development.

“Y-you think Trixie’s distracted with s-something?”

Part of the mansion’s roof exploded in a blast of plasma. Bon-Bon nodded.

“Yeah, that seems a r-reasonable ass-ssumption. What now?”

Although they were now technically in the clear, Trixie had stopped giving commands to her weather machine just as she had created another tornado to block the entrance to the mansion and keep the pair of them outside. Undaunted by this new obstacle, Lyra pointed a hoof at the glowing spire still keeping the Windegos ensnared.

“We take out her new toy! Come on, let’s ‘sweep them off their hooves’.”

Bon-Bon smiled as she recognized the M.A.R.E. code words that she and Lyra had been working on. Instantly knowing the exactly which one of her insane strategies that Lyra had in mind, they leapt into action.

Together, Lyra and Bon-Bon rushed over to the shadow of the idling YETI, taking shelter as they huddled up behind both of its towering forehooves. Pressing up against the cold metal, Bon-Bon relished the reprieve as the howling wind was diverted around her on both sides of the massive limb. Giving Lyra a nod, they both reached down, digging and searching into the snow for the spot where the machine made contact with the frozen ground.

In unison, Harpflank and Sweets slid their own hooves into the crack beneath the behemoth and, straining with all their might, heaved upwards. Inch by inch, the YETI’s hooves began to move, sliding up and folding into a pose almost like it was rearing back in shock.

Lyra and Bon-Bon lifted the hooves above their head, standing underneath them as they pushed their own forelimbs upwards. Straining with the effort, they slowly took step after step forwards, pushing the YETI further and further off balance as it wobbled on its hind legs.

With one final heave, the machine tumbled over backwards. For a moment, all of its hooves left the ground as it tipped, falling flank-first into the raging tornado. Despite the unmatched fury of the raging tempest, the sheer weight and density of the YETI was too much for it to lift, and instead simply added to the momentum of the toppling Lunatron.

The YETI, once so utterly steadfast and immovable, now tumbled into a lazy, uncontrolled backflip as it slowly catapulted through the air. Finally, and with all the grizzly certainty of a brick diving on a watermelon, the robot sailed over the roof of Sanctuary and collided with the MAA spire with a crunch of crumpling, crunching metal.

“Yes! Take tha- Atchoo!”

With a mighty thud, the YETI bounced off the ruined spire and flopped onto the east wing of the manor. As a result the entire east wing completely collapsed, crumbling to rubble in much the same way that most buildings do when confronted with Harpflank and Sweets.

But despite the successful maneuver, Lyra and Bon-Bon did not have the opportunity to celebrate. Blinking her weary eyes from yet another chest-busting sneeze, Lyra pointed a hoof to the incandescent skies above the manor.

“Hey, I think the Wind-dingoes are up to something.”

Wrecked by the impact of the YETI, the bent and mangled actuator array faded to a low, despondent hum, shooting sparks as the control system went offline. Left to their own devices, the unnatural wind and hail died down, slowing to a halt as Trixie’s tornado quickly dispersed into a barely fluttering breeze.

At the top of the spire, the two captive Windegos slowed to a floating trot, halting their ghostly carousel as they felt their magical reins go slack. For a second, they just floated there, testing the waters as they waited to see if their slavery would recommence.

As a moment passed and no punishment came, they had their answer.

The two Windegos spurred into action as a ghastly neigh echoed out from inside the mansion. Responding in kind, the tethered spirits reversed direction, galloping counter-clockwise as the array once more lit up with unearthly light.

Lyra and Bon-Bon flinched, covering their faces as the biting winds kicked up once again, power flowing from the spire to re-agitate the air into violent swirling flurries. Through the noise of the howling gale, Vinyl’s voice cut in over their com-links.

“Something must have happened in there... The Windegos are somehow using the device to make themselves even stronger! The storm is worsening everywhere!”

Shouting to be heard, Octavia reviewed the energy reading with a grim expression.

“In its damaged state, Trixie’s weapon can't handle this level of energy output. It probably won’t bother the Windegos if that weapon goes critical, but Redheart is still in there, and her message said there were citizens still trapped in ice in the entrance hall.”

Cutting a path through the snow, Bon-Bon raced to the mansion’s gates with Lyra close behind.

“There’s no time to shut the machine down! I don’t know if Redheart needs our help, but if those captives are so defenceless, then we need to get them out first!”

Grimly nodding at Bon-Bon’s assessment, Lyra kicked open the front doors and grabbed the closest captive.

“Fine... I just hope that Redheart isn’t in so deep she can’t make it out of there.”

Scene 17

Half sliding and half climbing, Redheart delved deeper into the pit. Flashes of magic and plasma lit up the sinkhole from far above her, barely illuminating her decent as she approached the Windego chamber.

All of a sudden, an enormous tremor rocked the spire, sending it listing to one side as the metal support struts either buckled in place or were completely torn free of the surrounding rock. Redheart yelped, nearly tumbling into the abyss as her perch shook from the reverberating impact of the Lunatron far above her head.

Nursing her ribs, Redheart clung onto the metal, once more sheltering from a deluge of dirt and stone as the sinkhole spread to greedily consume more and more of the ballroom. As the damaged spire began to power down, the cry of a distinctly furious Trixie echoed down the pit.

“Damn you Harpflank and Sweets! Damn you a hundred-thousand times! Damn you all!”

Tuning out Trixie’s ongoing rant, Redheart slid down the last few meters of slanted metal as she finally dropped down onto the ledge holding the arcane core. In front of her, separated by only a few hooves of glass and machinery was the heart of this diabolical machine. Inside, the captive Windego thrashed and contorted, still tightly bound by its magical chains.

Limping slightly, Redheart checked her saddlebags as she approached the core. Behind the glass, the Windego glared at her, its empty eyes following her as she planted ‘medical’ explosives all over the magical converter batteries. Even as she worked, Redheart could not shake the feeling that this resentment was not of the beast’s usual kind... Almost as if the spirit creature somehow recognized her, and had thus directed its loathing with much more intent.

With everything in place, Redheart had just prepared the detonator when a faint whisper drifted past her ears.

“ ...She is ours

You...

... Meddle

Meddle...

Ours...

Stop you...”

The captive spirit threw back its head and bellowed a haunting neigh that reverberated through a pony’s very bones. A moment later its brethren gave an answering cry and almost immediately the entire bank of power regulators lit up with overload warnings and danger signs.

Redheart covered her eyes with her hoof as the light spilling out of the core grew to a blinding intensity, emitting a tooth-grinding noise that rapidly increased in pitch and volume. As the Windegos focused their power the very earth itself seemed to exhale, turning the deep sinkhole into a wind tunnel that swept Redheart away and violently flung her back up the hole.

Hurtling at dangerous speeds, Redheart barely avoided being splattered against the now fractured network of support struts and crumbling rock as she took the fast route back to the surface.

Despite the concentrated hurricane directed at her, Redheart managed to cling on to her detonator, and with a grimace, pressed it down mid-flight.

“I don’t give up my friends... to the likes of you.”

A second later the core exploded and the rushing surge of air was replaced by one of fire.

Tumbling end-over-end, Redheart at least had the comfort of being knocked unconscious before she was blasted clean out of the sinkhole and landed on the collapsing ballroom floor in a smoldering heap.

Caught in mid-duel, Fleur and Trixie struggled to keep their footing on the shifting ground as yet another explosion rocked the fragile mansion. That blast was the final straw, as it broke apart the very foundations of the earth. The sinkhole was now widening, splitting the ground apart into a massive chasm. Trixie and Fleur found themselves on opposite sides of what had once been a ballroom, watching the oft-abused MAA spire sink completely into the earth.

While Trixie was preoccupied spitting expletives over the loss of her masterpiece, Fleur instead made haste to the side of her fallen friend, pulling her back from the brink of the crumbling floor.

“No! Red, I... I can fix this! I can just preserve you! Just like the others!”

Fleur reached down, but before she could freeze Redheart, a burst of wind blew the two of them apart. Fleur looked up as the two freed Windegos drifted down in front of her, soon joined by the third rising from the deep chasm. The energy they had absorbed from Trixie’s machine made their snow-filled bodies glisten like snow in the morning sun and their restored power was causing hail clouds to form even inside what was left of the building.

Her throat raw, Fleur croaked at the Windegos in confusion.

“What are you doing?”

“ ...Weakens

You...

Weakens...

...Us.”

Fleur shook her head, refusing to just let her friend die.

“I don’t care, I have to save her! It’s the whole reason I did all this!”

“No...

The reason...

You kill...

Revenge...

Must kill...

...Justice

...Anger

Hatred...

Kill...

..Kill him.”

Fleur heard a cry from behind her as another large section of the mansion fell into the chasm. Spinning around she saw something that would have otherwise filled her with great joy. Filthy Rich, literally on the brink of death. Scrambling to pull himself up, the sleazebag had taken a wrong turn in his attempt to escape the deathtrap Sanctuary had become, and was now dangling off of the edge of a collapsing staircase that was sliding away into the abyss.

“Revenge...

Your chance...
Kill...

One of us...”

Fleur faltered.

“I... I...”

An explosion went off at her hooves, blasting her onto her back. Across the other side of the chasm, Trixie leveled her cannon at the Windegos and fired, forcing them scatter before she turned her attention back to Fleur.

Glaring with unhinged anger, Trixie spat out venom-filled words as she stalked around the rim of the fissure.

“You little witch! Do you have any idea how little your existence means to Trixie? You’re nothing more than the leftovers of Rich’s abject incompetence! The only reason you are still breathing right now is the simple fact you were beneath Trixie’s notice!”

She fired another shot, forcing Fleur to dive out of the way and take shelter behind a crumbling wall. Her hat tilted at a jaunty angle, Trixie’s eyes blazed as she began turning the settings to maximum.

“Now learn why forcing Trixie to notice you was the worst mistake of your worthless life!”

Steam began rising from the metal of Trixie’s buster cannon as the overclocked fusion core began boiling the frigid air of the open-topped ballroom. Clunking into a previously unused formation, shock-absorbing clamps shot out from the bottom and secured it to the crumbling ground beneath her, changing the cannon into a mounted turret. Following this, the barrel of the weapon split apart and widened, abandoning all attempts to focus or contain the searing plasma as Trixie pushed the weapon to the limits of its designed capacity.

Her cape flowing behind her, Trixie laughed maniacally, driven berserk by her overwhelming pride in her creation, and the excitement of seeing her genius on full display.

“For her final trick, Trixie makes you disappear! Overkill Torrent, fire!”

At her command, the cannon unleashed a stream of plasma so large that its heat actually held back the relentless blizzard, vaporizing any snow that got within half a city block of the beam. The magnetic restraints barely managed to hold the weapon in place as the inferno surged out... firing with such an intensity that it could not be aimed. Instead, the weapon was just barely being ‘encouraged’ to shoot in a direction, the blast spraying indiscriminately about as the weapon shook and twisted on its mounting.

Had Trixie been given a clear shot, Fleur would have surely been incinerated, but instead her Windegos rushed to her aid by dive-bombing Trixie and throwing off her aim.

“Vile beasts... You shall also fall to Trixie!”

Growling loudly and inarticulately, Trixie ‘encouraged’ her weapon to turn and track the Windegos, the plasma torrent swaying this way and that as she pursued them in single-minded determination.

The plasma tore right through what little remained of Sanctuary, incinerating crumbling walls and piled rubble before blasting its way outside. In the mansion’s courtyard, Lyra yelped as the unexpected attack missed her by a tail’s breadth, completely disintegrating said tail before shooting off into the far distance.

Unfortunately for Metropony, the far distance in question happened to be in the direction of the city center... Yet the destruction was limited, as in what was probably a meaningful act of self sacrifice, Richcorp HQ decided to take the hit, so the other buildings wouldn’t have to.

With Trixie distracted, Fleur took the opportunity to look around, trying to catch sight of Redheart amidst the chaos. Instead, her ears twitched as she heard muted sobbing from just below her. Fleur looked down, feeling her blood boil. In avoiding Trixie’s attacks, she had rolled right up to the edge of the chasm, and the ruined staircase Filthy Rich was desperately holding on to.

As he saw her, his eyes widened in fear.

“Please... I’ll-”

“-You’ll what, pay me?”

Fleur felt her horn light up, her magic wrapping around his hooves, ready to fling him into the abyss.

“Don’t! Please I still... I still need to-”

“Why shouldn’t I? After Helping the Empire? After destroying my home? Poisoning my husband?!”

Fleur began to breathe heavily.

“Do it...

...Feed us

Feed...

Join...

...Killed him

Hurt you...

...Feed!”

Fleur bristled at the chilling presence hovering over her shoulder. She had no idea when the Windego had managed to break off from harassing Trixie, but here it was, whispering like it always did.

Blinking through tears, Fleur blearily looked around at the ruin of what had once been her Sanctuary.

“Fancy... We were so happy. This was our home.”

The wind grew louder in her ears as more words blew past.

“His fault...

Ruined it...

...Ruined him

...Join us
End this...

Preserve...

...Our world

...Of ice.”

Fleur shook her head and tried to stand. She didn’t even remember sitting down.

“Become like you? I... No... What was I... Red! I was trying to save Red! Where-”

Something pressed down on her neck, pushing her head back to the ravine and the terrified stallion barely hanging on.

“Do it...

...Evil

...Vile

Filthy...

...Disease

Cleanse him...

...Parasite

...Greedy

...Murderer

Why.

Should.

He.

Live?”

Fleur’s eyes hardened.

“Why should he live?”

Fleur looked at the pony she wanted to kill. Somehow even through the howling blizzard, and the deranged cries of Trixie, the wind managed to carry one whisper the Windegos had not spoken.

“I still need to protect her... My little Diamond... Please be okay without me.”

Fleur’s ears folded back as she let the hatred slip away.

“That’s it, isn’t it. Even a monster like me... even a monster like him... We’re not empty like you.”

Across the chasm, Trixie yelped as the ground beneath her finally gave away, sending her blaring cannon tumbling into the depths. She stumbled back, throwing a smoke bomb at her hooves as she disappeared.

“Curse you all! Trixie is not done! Trixie is never done!”

In the moments before the spluttering Buster Cannon gave out, the last burst of its plasma stream turned upwards, obliterating the staircase Filthy Rich had clung on to. But instead of falling, the business tycoon floated upwards in the glow of Fleur's magic, finding her hoof outstretched to take his as she pulled him back up.

“Whether or not he deserves to live... I’ll save him because saving ponies is what I do! That is who I am!”

As the two hooves met, a blinding light erupted from the heart of what was once Sanctuary. The light burned the Windegos, calling forth ghostly, bestial screams as pink flames consumed icy bodies, melting all they touched.

Deafened by the shriek of a Windego death knell, Fleur raced over and grabbed Redheart, hoisting her over her withers as she hastily followed moments behind Filthy in a desperate escape from the finally collapsing mansion.

There was a long moment of silence as the last remnants of Sanctuary fell into the bowels of the earth. The sound splintering wood and crumbling bricks had finally ceased, and the haunting, agonizing wails of burning spirits had faded in turn. The dust settled over a ruined home as the falling snow grew weaker and weaker before halting completely.

Laying in the snow of Santuary’s courtyard, Fleur looked back at her ruined home with a strange sense of peace. She had hastily passed Redheart off to Harpflank and Sweets, having had to do little to convince them to rush her away for medical care.

As M.A.R.E. agents arrived to take her and Rich away for questioning, Fleur looked up and smiled.

In the sky above Metropony, the dark clouds finally cleared and the sun shone through.

Scene 18

Sitting atop the roof of M.A.R.E. HQ, Lyra breathed deeply, enjoying the sensation of her nose being free and clear once again. Perched precariously on the ledge, she kicked her hind legs playfully as she relished feeling of the the sun on her coat.

“Now this is more like it...”

It had been a few days since the storm ended and the city was beginning to move again. Like a numbed limb, Metropony was shaking off the pins-and-needles and getting its circulation flowing once again. Ponies were out in the streets, blearily blinking in the light as they worked to clear the lingering snow from their homes and the lingering fatigue from their bodies.

Metropony wasn’t alone in its efforts. With the skies warming up, Cloudsdale had been given the go-ahead to go airborne again, and was now traveling the nation as it worked to get Equestria’s weather back in order. Being the worst-affected, Metropony had been the first stop on its trip, fluffily gliding to their aid so that their many trained pegasi could assist in the first ever Winter Wrap Up to qualify on the scale of a ‘national crisis’.

Leaning back, Lyra gazed up at the majestic city as it hung in the sky above Metropony. As the sun set on yet another work-filled day, the regal pillars and sweeping curls of the weather capitol caught the light, displaying a silver lining large enough to outclass even that of the Equestrian optimist society.

Hearing the crunching of hooves on snow behind her, Lyra leaned back even further, now laying down in the thinning snow and looking upside-down at Bon-Bon as she approached.

“Hey BB, nice of you to join me.”

“You’re still supposed to be in bed, young lady.”

Lyra laughed, too amused by Bon-Bon’s fake-admonishing expression to remind her that that restriction was stipulated to her as well. As Bon-Bon trotted up besides her, Lyra sat back up and smirked at her.

“Heh.. It’s just a bit of flu. What kind of superpony would I be if I couldn’t have shaken that off by now? It’s nothing compared to what some ponies had to go through.”

Seeing the mood dimming a little bit, Bon-Bon lifted Lyra’s chin and reassured her.

“You don’t have to worry about them, Lyra. The medical staff have finished thawing out all the ponies we pulled out of that mansion. They’re recovering, but very confused.”

“Spending your nights shivering away in a collapsing mansion and then suddenly waking up in a top-secret underground facility without any warning probably will have that sort of an effect.”

Lyra frowned, thoughts turning to another casualty of their recent mission.

“How’s Redheart doing?”

“Better than expected. It’s a good thing the storm stopped when it did, or we might not have gotten her back to HQ in time.”

Lyra sighed and scratched the back of her head in agitation.

“I can’t imagine what it must be like for her. One of her friends gets poisoned, and the other goes super-crazy out of revenge. Knowing her, she’ll probably just bottle it up and not talk to anypony about it.”

“... Maybe not. I don’t think Fleur has left her side since we brought them in. They seemed to be doing a lot of talking when I left, so maybe they really can help each other through this.”

Lyra looked askance at her partner, folding her forelegs in an irritated fashion.

“So are we really just going to trust that that fruitcake isn’t going to try and ‘preserve’ her all over again? Or do the same to everypony else for that matter?”

Shrugging, Bon-Bon took a seat next to Lyra, albeit in a less silly pose.

“She did eventually decide to save Equestria from the Windego. That’s gotta be worth a little benefit of the doubt.”

Voice rising in pitch, Lyra threw her hooves up in the air in exclamation.

“Yeah, but how did she stop them? There was just that weird flash of light and then the Wind Dingoes were just gone. We didn’t even have to punch them!”

Bon-Bon sighed, noting that her partner looked almost disappointed.

“Not that that would have even worked, seeing as they were mostly made of air and snow...”

Lyra smacked her hooves together and smirked.

“I would have found a way.”

Bon-Bon rolled her eyes, setting a hoof on Lyra’s shoulder.

“Don’t you remember the Hearth’s Warming legend? Windegos feed off of hatred and conflict. It empowers them. But if a pony puts aside their hate and reaches out to help somepony they despise... an act of kindness like that is like poison to them.”

Sticking out her tongue, Lyra grimaced.

“She killed them with kindness... What a disturbingly literal version of the phrase.”

She tossed her head and growled, looking off in a different direction.

“Whatever, at least now things can finally get back to normal.”

Smiling deviously, Bon-Bon nodded.

“Yeah, another week of Lunatron attacks and musical performances for Lyra Heartstrings. Speaking of which... You’ve been getting numerous requests the last couple of days.”

“Oh, from who?”

The smile widened.

“Just some private performances...”

“What-”

“-For Trenderhoof.”

Lyra fell off the building.

Leaning over the side, Bon-Bon called out to her snow-buried companion with great mirth.

“So what should I tell him?”

A muffled reply carried from three floors below.

“Tell him I’m dead!”

“Oh, if only you could get off that easily...”

“Bon-Bon I swear to Celestia-”

“Tomorrow, on his private yacht? Good plan. I’ll pick you out something nice to wear.”

“Rrrrrgh! Traitor!”

Laughing, Bon-Bon retreated from the ledge as a flurry of snowballs whisked past the ledge where she just was.

“Sorry, Lyra, I can’t let anything get in the way of luuurve...”

Beneath the snow-lined trees of Celestia Boulevard, a red-maned earth pony paused in clearing the snow away from a submerged flower bed to watch Harpflank and Sweets playfully chasing each other from rooftop to rooftop.

Once more joining Lilly and Daisy in their work, Rose sighed, somehow knowing deep in her gut that those two had once again had a hoof in this whole mess.

With wilted ears, she looked down at the fragile spring flowers that hadn’t survived the storm. Truly, this was the worst disaster Metropony had seen to date.

Rose sighed once again, solemn resignation slipping into her tone.

“Every... Single... Week.”

Scene 19

In one rarely used corner of M.A.R.E HQ was the interrogation room. It was rarely used for a number of reasons. One was that much of the Empire's forces were robots and were therefore incapable of divulging anything outside of their programming. Another was that Trixie very rarely told her underlings much of anything... not out of any sense of secrecy, but just because she didn’t consider them worth her attention. The third reason, unfortunately, was that Lyra had a tendency to get carried away and beat the Lunar agents bad enough that they couldn't remember what little Trixie told them.

Fleur was standing outside the room looking in through the one-way glass. With no expression, she watched Filthy Rich arguing with the M.A.R.E agents attempting to get any smidgen of information out of him. Although the microphones inside the room were picking up on every threatening demand for his lawyers that came out of Rich's mouth, Fleur had stopped listening, and instead just stared at the Billionaire's tantrum with cold, sad eyes.

"Mrs Lis?"

Fleur turned from the window and looked at the mare who had been introduced as Octavia. She was very polite and cultured, which made her an almost comforting presence as it allowed Fleur to slip back into her old high society persona and pretend as if her life hadn't fallen apart.

Right now, Fleur couldn't muster any pleasantries and just spoke the words foremost in her mind.

"He's going to get away with it isn't he?"

Octavia cleared her throat and looked sheepish.

"He insists that his acquisition plans had nothing to do with Trixie hijacking the mansion for her doomsday device and that he was merely present for its activation because you kidnapped him. We also have no proof that he poisoned your husband and any ties he has to the Empire through his finances may take months to find, if we can even identify which accounts the Empire happen to be using."

Fleur hung her head, her eyes scrunched closed.

"So it was all for nothing?"

Shaking her head, Octavia stepped forwards and laid a hoof on Fleur's side.

"The second he leaves, we're going to be watching him like a griffon. Any time he tries to use his business to benefit the Empire, we'll stop him. Every property he owns, all his stock, every aspect of finances, we'll keep track of... And the second we catch him talking with Trixie, or find him sending them money... We'll be breaking down his door to take him in."

Octavia glared at Rich through the glass, turning her nose up in disgust.

"He walks free, but he won't be helping the Empire any more. All he's doing is stepping out into a bigger cage, and every day we'll make it smaller and smaller."

Fleur nodded and looked away, a flash of guilt crossing her face.

"So what cage will I be put into?"

She raised a hoof, allowing a film of ice to grow along her fur.

"I still have my powers, even though the Windego were defeated. I'm dangerous, on top of being a psychotic criminal. Even if I escaped, I don't even have a home to go back to anymore."

Fleur gave a bittersweet smile, slightly amused at how her crusade to help the homeless had resulted in her also losing everything she owned. Setting her icy hoof back on the floor, she was a little confused to see Octavia tilting her head and giving her a 'I know something you don't' smile.

Trotting around to Fleur's front, Octavia tossed her mane and gave Fleur a look of mock-accusation.

"Although you are guilty of assault, property damage and indirectly aiding an enemy of our nation, out of all your victims, only Filthy Rich is attempting to press charges. For everyone else, the explanation that you were being corrupted by Windegos was enough to forgive you. So instead, the Commander was able to use her clout with the Mayor and Police Chief to get you a punishment of community service... To be served out working and managing the city's homeless shelters."

Octavia dryly chuckled a little at Fleur's dumbfounded expression.

"One of the few bits of filth we were able to find on Rich was that his monopoly of homeless shelters were all completely unfit to serve even the most basic of functions. By Royal decree, we were able to wrestle ownership away from Rich and make them city-owned once again. All we need now is somepony to run them."

Fleur's long legs began to shake and she was forced to sit down, tears seeping from her eyes.

"But... After everything I did... I... Why are you all doing so much for me?"

"Redheart vouched for you. She told us everything that had happened and insisted that you wouldn't abuse our trust. You have friends here at M.A.R.E, and we look after our friends."

Octavia reached into her bag and pulled out an ExTech communications device before hoofing it over to Fleur.

"You can use this if you ever get into trouble, or hear anything about the Empire. We'll also keep you updated on your husband's condition and let you know when we find a way to cure him. We have the best scientists and medics in Equestria right here at M.A.R.E, and Redheart isn't going to stop until she can bring him back to you."

Fleur accepted the device, a hopeful smile breaking through her tears. Unbidden, she reached out and pulled a suddenly uncomfortable Octavia into a tight hug.

"Thank you!... Thank you all so much!"

A little caught off guard, Octavia reached out and patted the taller mare on the back, shivering at the remarkably cold hooves that had wrapped around her.

Eventually, Fleur had calmed down enough to let her go, allowing the mare to trot off back to her duties elsewhere in the base. Smiling, Fleur rose back to her hooves and wiped the tears from her face with the back of a hoof.

“Fancy... I won’t let your absence get to me. I’ll keep helping where I can... Because that’s what you and Red saw in me."

Sparing a glance back to the interrogation room, she saw that Filthy's rant had finally come to an end and the exasperated agents were reluctantly letting him out. Filled with a sense of hopeful confidence, Fleur lit up her horn and grinned as she used a spell on the glass.

So it was that the moment before he left the room, Filthy Rich happened to look back at the mirror lining one wall and paled at what he saw. A short message, written in frost upon the glass.

'We'll be watching you, Filthy.'

[Credits roll

NEXT WEEK ON HARPFLANK AND SWEETS

“When I say run, you run... Okay?”

“Now, is that any way to greet an old friend?”

“No, it’s much worse than that. It can’t be reasoned with.”

“It’s for moments like this that Trixie wishes she brought her camera.”

TUNE IN FOR THE NEXT EXCITING EPISODE OF… HARPFLANK AND SWEETS]

Coming soon: Episode 33(Surprise Party)
My Little Pony Belongs to Hasbro

Epilogue

Eyes glittering with happiness, Fleur’s excited gasp resonated throughout the crowded shelter. With the storm now over, and ponies actually leaving their homes, Fleur had had a much greater influx of volunteers to staff her new Sanctuaries, but she still insisted on doing the cooking herself. This break from her organisational role allowed her to actually stop and talk with the uprooted citizens she was trying to help... Which had led to her current exciting encounter with an old regular.

“You really found her?”

Seeing the slight nod, Fleur’s giddy expression turned to a squeal of joy, reaching over the counter to hug the very uncomfortable donkey on the other side. Blushing, but with the faintest hint of a smile, Cranky Doodle brushed her off, chuckling to himself.

“Turns out, the sister of one of the nurses at that ‘secret base’ had taken Matilda in before the storm hit. Better yet, those M.A.R.E. Lunkheads even offered me a job on their ‘disinformation team’. Said I’d a knack for dismissing things... Heh, pretty soon we’ll be able to afford our own place again!”

Wiping away a tear, Fleur beamed with happiness.

“That’s great news! It seems things are finally looking up for you two.”

“Feh... As long as we can keep another Lunatron from smashing through our next home as well. It’s not like you can get insurance in this crazy city.”

Stopping to stir the pot of soup she was in the process of making, Fleur couldn’t help but to see the renewed love for life behind the old donkey’s eyes. Her job was one that naturally came with a lot of sad stories, so seeing a happy ending like this one did wonders for restoring her spirits... And gave her a faint hope that she would also be reunited with her loved one someday.

“Well, be sure to come back often and let me know how you’re getting on. You two are just too cute together...”

Recoiling in disgust, Cranky made haste to the exit.

“Bah! I am not, and will never be cute! Your crazy ice adventure must have knocked more screws loose than I thought! Humph! Keep talking like that, and see if I ever show my face in here again.”

Smiling at his grouchy antics, Fleur waved a hoof at the protesting donkey as he belligerently elbowed his way out of the door.

“Of course, of course. See you later Cranky!”

Still humming to herself in high spirits, Fleur began pouring out the soup into bowls for their other hungry regulars, her mane bouncing as she giggled.

“It seems you’ve done some real good around here, miss.”

Popping out of her joyful reverie, Fleur blinked and took in the look of the elderly stallion standing before her. He was well-built for a unicorn, and healthy enough that if it were not for his rampantly unshaved beard and extremely patched and tattered brown cloak, she wouldn't have thought that he belonged amongst the other visitors to the shelter.

“Oh hello, I don’t think I’ve seen you here before mister...?”

“Call me Star. I just rode into town a few days ago, and I’ve been catching up on what’s going on recently.”

“Well, Mr Star... I can’t say that Metropony has been any different from anywhere else. That blizzard pretty much put a stop to anything that would have otherwise counted as news. Just a week of huddling together for warmth, like the rest of Equestria."

She slid him a bowl of soup, which he sipped gratefully, trying not to let his beard dip into the warm liquid.

“Well that is a shock. I’ve never known this town to be anything other than... Interesting.”

Smiling politely, Fleur took back the emptied bowl, a little shocked at the speed at which he’d downed the searing broth. However, instead of stepping aside to let her serve the next pony in line, he leaned onto the counter and gave her his full attention.

“So, I heard you had quite the magical experience the other day.”

Fleur froze up for a moment.

“... Excuse me?”

The stallion chuckled at her, smiling through his beard in rosy-cheeked mirth.

“That sudden surge that banished those wretched spirits. The news may be covering it up, but you can’t hide anything magical from me! This old horn of mine has seen a lot, you know.”

Fleur smiled as best as she could, remembering her promise of silence that she'd given to her new friends at M.A.R.E.

“I... I don’t know what you’re talking about, really.”

“Don’t be so modest, young lady. I felt it from all the way out by the train station, a big old wave of warmth and comfort, washing over me. I swear, it was like Hearth's Warming come early! Filled my old bones with hope for the future...”

He leaned forwards, looking her deep in the eyes.

“What did it feel like, to have all that magic flowing through you?”

Stunned into silence, Fleur was saved from answering by the voice of an unclothed mare calling out across the hall.

“There you are!”

Nervously grinning, the mare galloped up and put a hoof over his withers in clear embarrassment. Despite her act, she was obviously worried beyond belief at having lost the stallion, and was shivering from the cold, perhaps searching so frantically that she had not the time to throw on any warm clothes.

“Oh Grandpa, you know you’re not supposed to wander off like that. The storm may have cleared up, but there’s still snow everywhere and you could so easily get lost in all these streets!”

The elderly pony looked at the mare with the faintest tinge of amusement before waving a hoof at her dismissively and scoffing.

“Feh, I don’t need you looking after me, girl. You know full well that we’ve braved winters far worse than this one back at home.”

Pursing her lips, she began to lead him away from the counter, shooting an apologetic glance back at Fleur on the way.

“Yes, but you know better than to intrude on the hospitality of others. Let’s get you back to the hotel before you cause any more trouble...”

They left the New Sanctuary, the ‘Granddaughter’ leading her charge several blocks away from the mansion before ducking into an alley and turning to scold him with real concern.

“What were you thinking?! You know how dangerous it is to jump only a few weeks earlier in the timeline! I can’t believe that for somepony who invented time travel, you are so incapable of using it responsibly.”

Starswirl chuckled with almost paternal mirth at his student’s nagging.

“A winter cursed by spirits, and saved by the warmth inside the heart of a beautiful mare? You can’t tell me you aren’t the least bit nostalgic, Clover.”

Clover paced back and forth, running a hoof through her mane whenever she stopped.

“I can’t believe you would do this. I can’t. I wouldn’t have even known you had gone if you hadn’t have stolen-”

“-Borrowed.”

“-Stolen my cloak when you left.”

He pawed at the tattered rags draped over his body. It didn’t quite have the comforting jangle of bells he was used to, but that would have been a tad conspicuous to be gathering information with.

“I needed to blend in with the homeless. You know, I can’t understand why we can travel to any point in all of time and space, and yet you still choose to dress like a lost urchin, running errands for the cooks in Platinum’s court for your next meal.”

Glowering, Clover levitated off the cloak and transferred it to her own neck, where she tied it on with vehemence.

“It has sentimental value. I don’t complain about your stupid bells, so don’t pry into my wardrobe.”

She groaned.

“More to the point, you know you can’t hang around in this time period! You’re already pushing your luck, but if you go anywhere near them, Celestia’s going to realise you’re here!”

Starswirl looked back at the shelter, a smirk on his face.

“But I wasn’t going near them, I was going near her. A very interesting mare, if not tied in directly to their plan. She accomplished something only you have ever done... Such an odd way that this city seems to repeat the events of the past, don’t you think?”

Clover went quiet for a moment.

“I take it she didn’t tell you anything more than what I told you?”

“... No. Even after seeing it again, I’m still no closer to understanding this strange magic. Somehow, you discovered it and yet you care less about how it works than you do about worshiping its very existence.”

He spat on the snowy ground, muzzle wrinkling in disgust.

“I raised you to be inquisitive, not pious, girl. Magic is a field to be studied with the mind and thoughts, and yet you try and feel it with your heart, like some sort of pretentious poet or impressionist painter. It really boggles my mind how history remembers a romantic like you for your intelligence, and yet remembers a visionary like me for my facial hair.”

Clover glared at him, building a tenuous bridge of courage to the words she had to say.

“The more you obsess over this, the further you get from the answers. Please Sir, it’s not too late to turn back. The Princess will forgive you if you just let it go!”

Starswirl lit up his horn, preparing the spell to jump to another point in time. With an instinct honed from traveling with him all throughout history, Clover traced his intended destination and felt her heart break just a little.

“Celestia was right... You really are insane.”

“My research will satisfy the curiosity of everypony that comes after me. Once I have recorded my findings, these tests need never be repeated again.”

He disappeared in a flash of light, leaving Clover alone in the snowy alleyway. Teardrops mottled the pure white ground as she hid her face under her hood.

“If you’re planning what I think you are, even once may be too much.”

Episode 33: Surprise Party - Part 1

Something has gone wrong. We don't seem to have an archived copy of that chapter.

Episode 30: New Players

HARPFLANK AND SWEETS

Created by Arcainum

Written by Supersheep64

Opening Titles

HARPFLANK AND SWEETS: EPISODE 30 – NEW PLAYERS

Scene 1

“TRIXIE, ARE YOU TRYING TO TELL ME THAT YOU HAVE ABSOLUTELY NO IDEA HOW THIS HAPPENED?”

Trixie swallowed a rising knot of concern that was awkwardly lodged in her chest.

“Yes, my lady… The defence systems show absolutely no trace of the intruder, and your own magical concealments should have made it impossible for anypony to even suspect-“

“YOU PRESUME TO SHIFT THE BLAME ONTO MY ABILITIES?”

Luna shifted in her throne, smiling in malicious amusement at how her underling flinched as she spoke.

“PERHAPS YOU HAVE NOT LEARNED THE SUBTLE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN TREADING ON THIN ICE AND DIVING HEADFIRST AT IT FROM CONSIDERABLE HEIGHT.”

Trixie’s eye twitched nervously as she began to sweat in a manner unbecoming a pony of her magnificence.

“I meant no such thing, Your Highness! I-I was merely pointing out that with the sheer number of safeguards and illusions we’ve put in place-“

“WHEN WE BUILT THIS SECRET HEADQUARTERS, YOU DID ASSURE ME THAT IT WOULD ALWAYS REMAIN JUST THAT - A SECRET.”

Luna rested royal head on regal hoof, her evil magnetism demanding respect and attention even when apparently bored.

“YOU THEN WENT ON TO SAY THAT EVEN IF IT WERE TO BE DISCOVERED, ANY ASSAULT OR INFILTRATION WOULD END IN THE PERPETRATOR BEING REDUCED TO ROASTED PILES OF ASHEN CHUNKS.”

Trixie could see where this was going. She didn’t like it.

“YET TODAY, YOU COME HERE TELLING ME THAT OUR ADVERSARIES HAVE NOT ONLY DISCOVERED US, BUT SNEAKED PAST ALL OUR DEFENCES AND HACKED YOUR SYSTEMS FOR EVERY PIECE OF RESEARCH YOU HAVE THUS FAR COMMITTED TO MY CAUSE.”

Luna levitated over a glass of aged lunar wine and paused to take a very long, deliberate drink. The silence only served to unnerve Trixie more, giving her plenty of time to suffer in the suppressive atmosphere. Luna set the wine glass on the arm of her throne, idly running her hoof around the rim.

“NOW, I ASK YOU AGAIN - AND THIS TIME THINK VERY CAREFULLY BEFORE ANSWERING.”

She looked at Trixie the same way you would a spider desperately scrabbling at the sides of a bathtub.

“ARE YOU TRYING TO TELL ME YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW THIS HAPPENED?”

If she were a lesser pony, Trixie would have cried.

“I can only assume that they have discovered some new technology I have not yet had the chance to master. B-but I assure my lady that this setback will not save those fools from my current plan!”

Luna was like a statue.

“FOR YOUR SAKE, I HOPE SO, TRIXIE.”

Luna drank the last few drops of wine, levitating the crystal glass over to a grovelling henchpony who wisely vacated her Highness’s presence at a respectable velocity.

“YOU WENT TO CONSIDERABLE FINANCIAL TROUBLE TO DISABLE THEIR INFERNAL NANOTECHNOLOGY LAST WEEK. IT WOULD BE A SHAME IF SOMETHING WERE TO KEEP YOU FROM CAPITALISING ON THIS OPPORTUNITY…”

Her expression slipped into one of weary recollection.

“…LIKE WHAT HAS SEEMED TO HAPPEN TO A CONSIDERABLE NUMBER OF OPPORTUNITIES PREVIOUSLY.”

Sensing the worst was over; Trixie respectfully rose to her hooves.

“Do not worry, my lady. Without their fancy suits, Harpflank and Sweets meagre abilities are no match for my genius, no matter what information they may have!”

“WE SHALL SEE, TRIXIE. NOT THAT YOU DON’T INSPIRE CONFIDENCE, BUT I’M SURE YOU’LL FORGIVE ME IF I WITHOLD MY ENTHUSIASM.”

Luna waved a hoof, signalling for Trixie to take her leave. In the considerable vastness of Luna’s inner sanctum, her valiantly retreating form was like a particularly proud blue and purple dot navigating its way through a sea of imposing metal.

Crouched somewhere in the room’s innumerable shadows, another purple shape followed her progress through blank goggles. As Trixie waited impatiently for the colossal door to rise, the intruder disappeared from its perch, unseen and unheard by the multitude of henchponies traversing the catwalks below.

As she walked down the base’s darkened corridors, Trixie could hardly be blamed for failing to notice an extra shadow trailing in her wake.

Scene 2

“Come one, come all! Roll up and see science in action! We leave no ion uncharged, no element unbonded, no boson undiscovered and nopony unenlightened!”

Sunlight gleamed off a polished megaphone, leaving a hearty gleam in the eyes of the portly stallion wielding it. A chuckle in his heart and a vibrato to his tone, the spokespony reared back, encompassing the scene behind him with a dramatic sweep of his hoof.

“That’s right, little ponies! It’s at last time for the annual Metropony science expo!”

As far as the eye could see, colorful tents and elaborate contraptions were being set up, excitement flowing in the air as crowds of frenzied ponies flooded from attraction to attraction in a state of scientific ecstasy. In the very center of the expo a giant model of the solar system hung, suspended by magic and orbiting around a brightly glowing artificial sun. Radiating from the centerpiece in circles were dozens of erected stages for demonstrations from the greatest scientists of the age.

Bon-Bon was almost overcome at the spectacle, memories flooding back of her foalhood days exploring the wonders of science in years past. Pulled along in the current of the crowd, Bon-Bon gazed in awe at the sights, sounds and smells crammed into every available space. Everywhere you looked - Tesla coils sparked, test tubes bubbled, lasers beamed and Bunsen burners roared sapphire flames into the sky… admittedly all for more aesthetic value than any actual scientific purpose.

No matter the age of the pony, the expo was just as much a local holiday as it was a demonstration of scientific advancement. Given the prestige, Vinyl would have killed to set up an ExTech tent there were it not for that whole pesky ‘top secret’ nature of their work holding her back.

Bon-Bon took a seat at a periodic table and gleefully bit into her Newton’s candy apple, overwhelmed at the sheer magnitude of science on display. On his high pedestal, the moustached spokespony continued to rouse the teeming throng with his enhanced voice.

“Yes, gather round to see the advancements in magical theory that makes exploding twice finally possible! Learn the simple process that renders ordinary chocolate milk dangerously volatile! And let me tell you, buddy, check out our shocking new universal theories and you’ll never look at dark matter in quite the same way ever again!”

A pegasus fluttered up and whispered something urgently in his ear.

“What do you mean we don’t know where all the dark matter is?! Where did you last leave it?”

Giggling like a schoolfilly, Bon-Bon turned back to the seat opposite her.

“I can’t believe how big it is this year! Half of Metropony must have gathered for the expo! Do you think maybe-”

Bon-Bon blinked and trailed off as she realized the other seat was empty.

“Oh…. Right.”

Scene 3

“Come on, BB, you drag me to that dumb expo every year! You know I hate all that technical stuff!”

Bon-Bon frowned, trying to get Lyra to look her in the eyes.

“But I’ve gone to the Metropony Science Expo every year since the day I turned 3 years old! And you absolutely loved it when we went last year! You got into a fight with that theoretical biologist, remember?”

Lyra smirked a little.

“His views on bipedal evolution werewayoff.”

Lyra leapt onto the top of nearby street lamp as plasma fire raked the ground where she just was, leaving a burning trail of molten tarmac. Not stopping for breath, the suited pony leapt again as a giant metallic hoof crushed the lamp like a splintering toothpick.

“Don’t ignore Trixie whilst she’s trying to destroy you!”

The colossal robot pulsed with electricity, emitting EMP bursts that rendered their nanomachines useless. It swung a hoof at a taunting Lyra where she hung from an open windowsill, only to get a face-full of dislodged masonry for its trouble.

Bon-Bon poked her head out of cover behind a smashed storefront and unerringly shattered the Lunatron’s optic sensors with her grappling hook.

“Do you mind? This is a private conversation!”

The rope mechanism whirred into life, yanking Bon-Bon towards the hulking creation with brutal haste. The Lunatron’s hardened shell crumpled around her hoof like soggy cardboard as she punched it into the side of a building.

“NOO! Curse you Harpflank and Swe-Arrgh!”

Bon-Bon jumped free as the robotic head exploded behind her.

Scene 4

Bon-Bon jumped out of her seat as the table exploded in front of her. Rolling into her combat stance, she turned to seek out whatever assailant had discerned her identity.

“Oh geeze, I got it, I got it!”

A little yellow filly ran up and dowsed the molten plastic of the former table in foam from a fire extinguisher.

“Ah’m real sorry, miss! Ah told Scootaloo there was way too much Fos-fur-us in that thing!”

Bon-Bon relaxed her aggressive posture as two more fillies excitedly ran up to join the first.

“Applebloom! Did it work?”

The first pony spat out the extinguisher and pointed a deadpan hoof at the foamy, misshapen remains of the table.

“What do you think?”

The third, a unicorn, scrunched up her face and gave a hesitant response.

“I guess we’re not cut out to be Cutie Mark Crusaders Firework Forgers either...”

Bon-Bon frowned and strenuously detached her candy apple from where it had become fused to the side of her face. The orange one, who she guessed must be Scootaloo, sat down and entered into a state of angry pouting.

“Urgh! I told you this science stuff would get us nowhere, Sweetie! We gotta try something cool if we wanna earn our cutie marks!”

Sweetie and Applebloom turned back to Bon-Bon, looking up at her with sad, apologetic eyes.

“We’re real sorry miss, we promise never to mess around with science again.”

For a moment, Bon-Bon could see a different filly sitting in their place. One with blue and pink hair, who had never stopped coming back to this place and the memories it held. She thought of a life if she hadn’t had that childlike wonder to fall back on, of a childhood filled with only boring magic. Bon-Bon’s irritation faded and she felt her heart melt a little.

“Hey, it’s okay. Look around you, none of the science we have today would be possible without the scientists who discovered it getting up from their failures and causing a little collateral damage once in a while.”

She thought back to some of the fallout from Vinyl’s more ‘ambitious’ designs.

“... or sometimes a lot of collateral damage.”

The three fillies looked up at her with equal parts relief and confusion. Sensing she was losing their interest, Bon-Bon tried to think of a way to get her point across.

“Look, I may not be an expert, but I don’t think you should give up on science so easily. Even if it’s not your talent in itself, science is a tool that can open so many other doors for you.”

Sweetie Belle’s eyes lit up with understanding.

“And behind one of those doors could be our cutie marks!”

Applebloom rubbed her chin with renewed inspiration.

“Y’know, ah always did like makin’ stuff! Maybe ah could make us some gadgets to help our crusadin’!”

Scootaloo grinned evilly.

“Or at the very least, we could get to blow some more things up!”

As the trio turned to leave, Applebloom waved over her shoulder at a very satisfied Bon-Bon.

“Thanks for the advice, miss! We’re gonna be the best scientists ever!”

“Yeah! A field of expertise where causing collateral damage is a good thing? It’s like it was made for us!”

As they disappeared around a corner Bon-Bon could vaguely hear Sweetie Belle beginning their new plans for the future.

“So where are we gonna do all these experiments anyway?”

“Ah know a pretty good place we could make a secret lair!”

“I’m liking this idea!”

Bon-Bon watched them until they were out of sight, chuckling at their harmless machinations with a warm glow in her heart.

As much as Lyra may love the violence and daring acts, Bon-Bon had often told her that it was these little ways of inspiring others or just subtly making the world a better place that was the best part of the job.

Seeing as she wasn’t here, this was just another wasted opportunity to prove that point.

Bon-Bon sighed as her thoughts returned to the same depressing avenues she’d been briefly distracted from. As great as the expo was, it just wasn’t the same without Lyra to share it with.

Yes, Lyra was her own mare, and they spent so much time together that Bon-Bon could hardly blame her for wanting some alone time but… Surely she hadn’t forgotten the reason why today was so important?

….Had she?

Now thoroughly jaded to the delights around her, Bon-Bon turned away from the ex-table and lost herself in the crowd.

Scene 5

In a tent lined with unknowable gadgetry, a wild-haired earth pony stood in front of a small crowd of onlookers. Turning, he pulled his hooves out of the slots on his machine, faint vestiges of magic continuing to linger on the tips. The stallion smiled widely at his captive audience as he undid the latch on top of the small machine, pulling out a canister of glowing liquid.

“I know it sounds crazy, but with my Magical Compression Device, it has become possible to infuse regular water with Earth pony magic and vastly speed up the growth of any plant life.”

In the front row of the small crowd, Rose gazed with skepticism at the stunted sapling planted in the dirt before her. Her two companions, Lily and Daisy showed similar signs of disbelief at the claims of the white-maned scientist before them.

Undeterred, he poured the sparkling mixture into the soil, quickly stepping back to observe the results. Magical energy arced over the plant and the wilted leaves began to twitch and convulse, gaining pressure like a geyser about to erupt.

“And as you will soon see, the more magic we infuse, the greater the results!”

Outside, ponies paused in shock as a mighty tree tore its way through the top of the tent and showered them with a hail of leaves and acorns.

The stunned scientist frowned at the gaping hole in the roof.

“… Maybe too much magic.”

Rose struggled to pull her jaw off the floor. Next to her, her friends’ eyes sparkled with imagined gold as they thought through the possibilities. In unison, the two mares leapt forward and grabbed the scientist by the lab coat.

“Howmuchhowmuchhowmuchhowmuch?!”

He stumbled back, pupils shrinking in fright.

“Uh, this is an experimental device... It needs a lot more testing before it becomes commercially available…”

The poor stallion wiped his brow as the disappointed ponies backed off.

Rose shook her head at their shenanigans. No matter how many life-or-death experiences they went through, her friends would never learn their lesson. Rose flinched as something hit the ground in front of her and buried itself in the soft soil.

It was a golf ball.

“What the…?”

There was a crashing of leaves and branches as a club-bearing pegasus tore through the new canopy and into a sudden landing.

“Sorry, sorry! I’ll just get this back onto the green, and I’ll be out of your manes!”

The scientist blinked in incomprehension.

“But… There are no golf courses in Metropony city.”

The sporty intruder shook her curly blonde locks and laughed.

“I know that, silly! Why do you think I’m a couple’a hundred shots over par?”

It seemed the strange pony herself wasn’t so sure what sport she was playing, seeing as how she was wearing shin-pads, ice-skates, a single boxing glove, a bowling jacket and a novelty drinking hat that barely fit over her poofy coiffure.

“You came from a different city?”

She shrugged and scratched her head absently.

“In hindsight I may have taken this game a teensy bit too far - But hey, seeing as I’m already here, I might as well pick up a souvenir, right?”

Though none present had seen her move, the eccentric creature was now trying to cram her golf bag full of all the metallic hardware and scientific paraphernalia she could find.

“Stop, that is very dangerous equipment! You have no idea what it could do!”

The pegasus laughed again, this time with a more sinister tone that set the fur on the back of Rose’s neck aquiver. With a sense honed through countless instances of peril, she grabbed her two friends and began to slowly back out of the tent.

“Gee, for a scientist, you sure are stupid!”

She pulled a grime-encrusted nozzle out of the golf bag, holding it resolute in front of her as she hovered off the ground.

“This is me robbing you, silly.”

The remaining crowd fled in terror as crimson flame spewed forth from the tool in her hooves and engulfed the newly-birthed tree. The elderly scientist squealed like a little filly and, tangled mane aflame, galloped away as fast he could.

Wicked shadows dancing across her face, the maniacal pegasus swiveled round, burning everything she could see. Suitably satisfied by her destruction, she lifted the Magic Compression Device from the one table not turned to charcoal.

“Now the fun begins!”

With a reluctance befitting its short lifespan, the incinerated tree tore the burning tent asunder as it toppled into the screaming crowd outside.

Scene 6

Bon-Bon woke from her funk at the sound of screams. Banishing the dark thoughts to the back of her mind, she looked up and spotted a stream of smoke spreading across the sky like an infection. Her eyes widened with short-lived shock, giving way to anger.

“Not today.”

Fighting the stream of fleeing ponies, Bon-Bon galloped towards the base of the smoke pillar. In the blink of an eye, she disappeared behind a stage labelled ‘The Wonders of Geothermal Energy!’

A few seconds later a different pony appeared on the other side.

“Mommy? Where are you?”

The lost colt stumbled through the endless flurry of stampeding hooves, bashed around by the weight of bodies too large to see the child in their midst. Somepony collided with him and he hit the dirt, coughing on the smoky air as he tried to rise to his hooves.

He froze at the sound of breaking wood, turning to face the source of the sound. Eyes watering from the smoke, he could only close his eyes as a blazing tree descended on him like an executioner's axe.

Like a gust of wind, Bon-Bon swept through the crowd, darting around anypony in her way. She grabbed the kid’s tail in her teeth, yanking him from certain death and hurling him onto her back, where he clung on like a fuzzy brown limpet.

Bon-Bon charged the ring of flames, performing a leaping tackle on a model of DNA structure. As the structure toppled, Bon-Bon leapt from pole to pole, racing the rising flames to the top. The tower splintered on impact, disintegrating into wooden bases and phosphates as Bon-Bon rolled free, cradling the young foal close to her chest.

The colt looked up at her in awe as she brushed ash and embers from her costume, standing tall.

“You’re... You’re…”

He was interrupted by the call of his mother, rushing in to sweep him off his hooves and into a crushing hug. Blinking in post-shock, the colt tried to turn back to his savior, but she had vanished like a ghost.

Scene 7

Surprise flew high above the burning expo, scorching everything she saw like an angel of death.

“Yes! With this, I herald the beginning of the end for Metropony City! Soon everypony will see the truth, and my time will at last come! Muhahaahaha-ack-tpth!”

She doubled over a in a fit of coughing and wheezing before wearily rubbing her throat.

“Oh man, there’s a lot of smoke up here.”

“Well get used to it, villain, because when I’m through with you, you’re the one who’s going down in flames!”

A voice cut through the haze like a knife. Ears pricked up, Surprise spun in place and there, poised dramatically atop the model sun stood...

“Harpflank and Sweets, finally!”

Bon-Bon blinked. That wasn’t the reception she’d been expecting.

“I’ve been waiting, like, five minutes for you guys to show u-“

For a moment, Surprise just hung there, mouth frozen open. Then she folded her forelegs, looking thoroughly displeased.

“Where’s the other one?”

“Excuse me?”

“Don’t kid around with me, I know that there’s two heroes on this show! What, just because I don’t have a giant robot I only get the lame half of the dynamic duo?”

Bon-Bon flinched a little.

“L-lame? I’m just as good as Ly - Harpflank!”

“Uh-uh. Sure.”

Surprise dropped her extremely unconvinced visage and shrugged.

“Well you’re here now, so I guess I’ll make do.”

Bon-Bon shook off the insult and dropped back into her combat stance, realizing the lunatic’s bizarre motive.

“You were waiting for me? So you did all this just to - what? Get my attention?”

Surprise giggled and did a little backflip.

“Well duh! You’re in a rut, girl! And this is an intervention!”

Bon-Bon’s face made quite clear what she thought of this idea.

“Now hear me out. You and your… Disappointingly absent companion are the crux on which order and security hinges here in Metropony City. Therefore, I have to target you to cure this city of its stagnation! Ponies here live in the space between fear and boredom, forced into reliance on an unending cycle of conflict that consumes their every waking moment!”

Bon-Bon rolled her eyes.

“So, you’re going to try and stop the endless cycle of destruction by causing more destruction. Well, that makes perfect sense.”

“Pfft, heck no! Destruction is awesome! I’m complaining about how ponies have to live, certain that another week is going to result in more of the same! Trust me, it’s only by having no idea what comes next can we truly be alive! The rush, the thrill, the shock! The excitement of something you’ve never seen before! It’s what I live for!”

Bon-Bon stared askance as her adversary ‘paced’ back and forth in midair.

“Yet, thanks to you, every week it’s the same routine! Big robot shows up, you smash it, everything goes back to normal. It’s so.... Predictable.”

She lowered her voice, speech dripping with revulsion.

“Ihate predictable.”

Bon-Bon had had enough of this nutcase. Her hoof slipped into her saddlebag as she yelled out, whole body blurring with movement.

“Then you should love this!”

Her hoof snapped forward, flinging an unprimed grenade faster than the eye could see. Slicing through the air, it jammed deep into the barrel of Surprise’s flamethrower like a square peg hammered into a round hole, keeping the ignited gas from escaping the weapon.

“Eeep!”

With nowhere to go, the flame shot back along the pipe into the fuel tank. Frantically, Surprise flung away the weapon moments before it exploded, wreathing the crazed pegasus in a cloud of filthy smog. Before she could even wipe the grime from her eyes, Bon-Bon leaped out of the smoke like a vengeful phoenix, tackling Surprise right out of the air.

“You picked the wrong day to get on my bad side!”

Falling through the model solar system, the two ponies bounced off the surface of Venus, grappling in mid-air. Unfortunately, being an Earth pony, Bon-Bon had no means of leverage to bring to bear against Surprise's wings, which resulted in the lunatic violently dislodging her with an impossibly contorting corkscrew maneuver that must have required the dislocation of several major bone joints to perform.

Bon-Bon felt all the wind blown out of her as she slammed into Saturn‘s surface. With a sound of breaking enchantment, the fake planet fell out of its orbit and began rolling along the ground, bowling over everything in its path. Bon-Bon broke into a gallop, fighting against the momentum of the ball in order to keep up the runaway balancing act that kept her from being squished as the planet rolled off into the crowded stalls and stages of the Expo.

Surprise came out of her corkscrew, grinning at the destruction she caused. Floating down, she grabbed hold of saturn's rings, still floating around the faux sun even in the absence of their long-time planetary partner. Pivoting in place, she began to spin faster and faster like a discus hurler, gathering momentum.

“Not bad Sweets, but mine’s bigger!”

Bon-Bon’s eyes widened in shock as Surprise let go, sending the circular disc hurtling towards her. She leapt off the runaway planet and hit the ground rolling moments before the rings sliced it clean in half.

Leaving no time to think, Surprise dived straight at her, hoof drawing back to strike. Bon-Bon stood, reaching into her utility bags again to retaliate. She never got the chance however, as Surprise took the opportunity to use some gadgets of her own.

The single boxing glove morphed and shifted around its owner’s hoof as thrusters emerged from the base and the soft fabric tore apart to reveal harsh metal. Thrusters flared, blitzing Surprise across the remaining distance at twice the speed. Left with no time to dodge, Bon-Bon flung up her forehooves in a last-ditch defense.

“Surprise Rocket Punch!”

Time seemed to slow down as a shockwave radiated out from the point of impact, blowing out all the flames in the vicinity. Bon-Bon’s rear hooves dug into the ground and she gritted her teeth as her inequine strength and endurance grinded against the incredible force pressing down on her. Impossibly, she held her ground, absorbing every last newton of force without breaking under the pressure.

“Secondary Ignition... Activate!”

“Oh boy…”

Flaps flared out, letting the flames double in size. The blazing fist blasted itself off Surprise’s leg, knocking Bon-Bon clean off her hooves before blazing a trail across the ruined expo like a pint-sized meteor.

The rocket punched a hole in the side of the chemistry pavilion, flinging its passenger straight through several desks and tables. Bon-Bon hit the ground as the rocket fist exploded, smashing every test tube and beaker into a rain of glass and chemicals.

As the smoke cleared, Bon-Bon limped out of the smashed wall, dripping with nitric acid. She watched as Surprise floated down, slack-jawed in front of her.

“What.”

Bon-bon glared at her.

“Seriously?! What the hay are you made out of? You should be melting right now!”

Bon-Bon decided not to mention that even her old suit was built to resist corrosive substances. This was hardly the first time she’d been dunked in acid. She wouldn’t be caught unprepared.

“Oh, what? Giving me the silent treatment?”

Surprise frowned.

“Well fine, if you’re gonna be like that, I’ll just leave.”

“No you won’t.”

Bon-Bon whipped out the net-gun she’d been hiding under the pretense of a limp, ropes blasting out and binding Surprise from head to tail. Surprise fell like a sack of potatoes, too stunned to mount a defense.

“That’s it?!”

Surprise inquired furiously.

She twisted around to face a now thoroughly amused Bon-Bon.

“I hit you with a rocket, dowse you with acid, hurl Saturn’s rings, burn this place to the ground, and the best you can do is trap me in a net?!!”

Bon-Bon looked down her nose at her.

“Can you get out of the net?”

Surprise struggled for a moment.

“….No.”

Bon-bon grinned slyly.

“Then that means I win, now doesn’t it?”

Surprise blinked. Oddly enough, her expression morphed into something approaching respect.

“Sweets, you've shattered every expectation I had of you.”

She broke out in a sinister grin.

“You’re everything that I could have hoped for.”

Bon-Bon’s good humor evaporated. For a moment, she’d gotten so caught up in the thrill of fighting evil that she’d forgotten that Surprise wasn't a robot or dictator; she was some kind of obsessive psychopath. And, for whatever sick reason, she’d just cemented her fixation.

Surprise was gabbing away excitedly.

“We’re going to have such fun being arch-nemesis-es-es-es! Screw the contract, I’m gonna commit crimes way more than once a week!”

Bon-Bon gave her a withering look.

“I gather you hate clichés, but traditionally the arrested criminal goes to jail at this point.”

Bon-Bon pulled out her communicator and tried to establish a secure line.

"This is Agent Sweets contacting M.A.R.E HQ. I’ve apprehended a dangerous criminal and require a prisoner extraction, over.”

The hologram remained blank and she heard only static.

“Signal’s being jammed?” Bon-Bon murmured, “Why would…?”

She glanced over to where Surprise was smugly looking at her.

“No… You couldn't have...”

“You’re surprised by this?”

Surprise gave her a deadpan look.

“Considering you fight her every week, I’d have thought you’d have the day memorized by now.”

Getting flustered, Bon-Bon realized she’d been tricked. Desperately needed elsewhere, Bon-Bon turned to run.

…Only to fall flat on her face. Panic set in as she realized she was in worse trouble than she thought.

“Why can’t I move my…?! “

She looked over to Surprise’s dropped golf bag and heard what had stealthily been there the entire time; a steady hiss of escaping gas. Bon-Bon saw spots dancing at the end of her vision as she struggled to remain conscious.

A mocking voice drifted over to her.

“Hey, remember when I said I couldn't get out of this net?”

She twisted her hooves, cutting a hole in the net with the blades of her ice-skates.

“I lied.”

Surprise trotted over into Bon-Bon’s field of vision. Now fully paralyzed, the costumed mare could only watch as she retrieved her bag and crouched in front of her. From this close, it was apparent that Surprise was using her ridiculous drinking hat as some sort of disguised breathing mask.

“Now do you see where I’m coming from? Predictable routines dull the mind, waste our brief lives, and make it very very easy for you to walk right into a trap.”

Surprise kicked Bon-Bon’s legs, flipping her over onto her back. She pressed a hoof onto Bon-Bon’s chest in victory.

“Today I start to break the cycle. Even if your buddy surprises me and lives to face me again, the status quo is already changing. Why? Because this week, Harpflank and Sweets lose. And I’m only just getting started.”

She leaned in close and stroked Bon-Bon’s mane in an eerily loving fashion.

“Sorry, Sweets, maybe you’ll catch me next time.”

Her voice lowered to a whisper.

“The not knowing is the best part.”

Bon-Bon’s head slumped backward as she blacked out.

Surprise reached into her golf bag and pulled out an odd device with two hoof-slots and a cylinder on top.

“I wonder how much magic is in a super pony…?”

Scene 7

Lyra pressed herself into the wall, panting heavily. Her costume was scratched and torn in multiple places, and even her saddlebags had burned off in a close call with some plasma fire. She pressed a hoof to her bruised ribs, wincing in pain.

Lyra cursed her inattention. She’d already gotten so used to the strength and speed granted by the Nanosuit that she was reacting too slowly to everything Trixie threw at her.

She activated her communicator, whispering into the mic to try and stay unheard by the Lunatron’s sensors.

“Hey guys, I’m, uh, pretty much getting murdered out here. Any luck?”

Octavia’s succinct but uncharacteristically worried tone responded down the line.

“Bon-Bon continues to not respond to her comms, and our sensors are still unable to find any trace of her.”

“What about-“

This time it was Vinyl who responded, sounding like she was barely holding herself together.

“No! I’m working as fast as I can, but Trixie fried these things so bad, they make the Commander’s office look positively organised in comparison!”

There was the sound of something short-circuiting and Vinyl crying out as she was zapped with the excess power. Lyra was really starting to get nervous now.

“Well you must have something, right? Some new gadget or weapon you've been working on!”

“….”

“Right?...“

“I’ll have to get back to you on that.”

There was the sound of clattering and shifting paper as Vinyl desperately began sifting through the mess of her lab. Octavia cut back in, attempting to reassure Lyra.

“I-I’m sure we will find something! Anyway, we all have faith in your ability to find some weakness to exploit and pull through.”

Now sounding very out of her depth, Octavia tried her hoof at cheering her on.

“Uh… Go team!... Yay…”

Her voice faded out as she got further away from the console, berating Vinyl for her stupidity.

“I told you we shouldn't have discontinued all the other research, but noooo! We summon one Megacello, and suddenly, everything else isn't ‘cool’ enough to work on…”

Lyra cut the mic, stealthily shifting from her position as she heard the pounding of gargantuan hooves move closer.

“Great. Vinyl is out of ideas, Tavi’s getting hysterical and Trixie is winning. What’s next? Is Redheart going to break out in song?”

There was a horrendous crunching sound as something reached down and grabbed hold of the entire top half of the building, tearing it out of its foundations.

Now exposed, Lyra bolted to the left and leapt from the new ‘roof’ onto that of the neighboring building. The remainder of the building behind her collapsed in on itself as the Lunatron smashed the severed top half right back down onto it, both halves crumbling under the impact into mere chunks of rubble.

From the swirling dust came the distinctive whine of charging plasma emitters, soon followed by the equally telltale sign of the ‘Big ‘ol beam of swirling sapphire death’ more commonly associated with the weaponry.

Tracking her movements, the Lunatron ‘head’ swiveled round, melting the concrete behind her as Lyra desperately tried to outrun it.

She wasn't fast enough.

As Lyra attempted to make the jump to the adjacent roof a few hundred hooves away, the Lunatron gave one final flair and she was clipped by the last scornful strands of plasma. Lyra screamed out, every nerve on fire as she fell smoking from the side of the skyscraper.

Her vision faded out as she hit the roof below.

Scene 8

“………………………”

“……………………..ra!”

“………………………..”

“……Ly…….hat hap….”

What... What was that noise?

“..Ly…..ome in….you hav…….…respond! Lyra! Are you….…ay something!”

Lyra could hear voices. They sounded so… Scared. She blinked slowly, her five hooves swimming around in a blur in front of her. She could taste iron in her mouth, had she been eating metal?

Maybe… Maybe she should take a nap…

“..rew this! …emote Activat… Emer…ncy adrenaline..hot!”

Lyra gasped for air as something jabbed in her side. Her vision came back into focus and she suddenly became unwillingly aware of just how much pain she was in.

It was a lot.

After she stopped screaming, Lyra found she could hear the voices a lot more clearly now.

“Lyra, buddy! You gotta get up! Forget the mission and get out of there!”

Lyra rose onto her haunches, clutching her side in agony.

“…No. I can’t let Trixie win.”

Looking around, Lyra could see her failed jump had deposited her on the roof of the Celestial Royal Bank.

A strange beeping noise came in over the headset, followed by the tapping of keys. Octavia’s voice cut in, muffled by the beeps and the general ringing in Lyra’s ears.

“Lyra, sensors detect something moving in on your position incredibly fast.”

“Bon-Bon?...”

“...No, it doesn’t matc-“

Whatever Octavia was saying, Lyra couldn’t hear it. Concrete crumbled and her entire world shook with two resounding booms as the Lunatron’s forehooves embedded themselves in the side of the building.

Lyra turned to face it as it slowly drew up to its full height, towering over her like a god. The bottom half of the Lunatron was constructed in traditional equine form, loaded with missile launchers and at least as large as the last one that had been defeated. The top half, sans the plasma firing blank slate of a head, was something new; an additional vertical torso with two extra limbs. And on the end of those limbs…

The roof of the bank was surrounded on three sides by taller buildings, including the more traitorous ones that had denied her earlier parkour attempts.

Lyra sighed, even if she could move, there was no way to escape.

Trixie’s ringing laugh emanated from somewhere deep within the contraption, tinged with the telltale narcotic of victory. Before she had the chance to say something heroic and stupid, the mountainous centaur reached down and grasped Lyra in its tree-like fingers, almost crushing her in it’s grip.

“Do you like them Harpflank? They’re called ‘Hands’. -An extra function I sought to add in my Custom Engineered Triximum Auxiliary Reactors Lunatron just for you.”

Trixie’s infuriating, amplified voice echoed throughout the ‘box’ that had been formed between the buildings. She gave a smarmy little chuckle as Lyra struggled to breath.

“I thought you might appreciate a little irony with your imminent demise.”

Truthfully, the only thing Lyra would have been able to appreciate at that moment would be an ambulance and some painkillers.

The Lunatron tightened its hold, eliciting another gasp of pain from the captured hero. Lyra’s horn glowed weakly, utterly unable to force open the vice grip crushing her ribs.

“How does it feel to know that after all the times you would meddle and interfere with my schemes you will die alone and helpless?”

You could practically hear the grin on her face.

“I guess it’s true what they say. Clothes really do make the mare.”

Lyra’s horn gave one final flash before winking out, completely drained. A long moment passed before Trixie began to laugh.

Then her hand fell off.

As it fell, the limp fingers spread open and Lyra made a desperate leap, barely grabbing onto the side of the bank with her front hooves. The hand continued to fall, leaving a sizable imprint in the pavement below.

The CEnTAuR looked down at the now amputated limb with understandable confusion.

“But… You?... What?”

Lyra shakingly pulled herself up over the ledge.

“Trixie…. The only irony I see… Is that you thought the world expert…. Would even be fazed by your shoddy replicas.”

Trixie was unimpressed.

“Hmph. A paragon of a useless art? It suits you, you infernal wretch. No matter! Let’s see your bizarre obsession save you from this, cretin!”

The Lunatron stepped backwards, planting all four of its hooves back on the ground. Lyra flipped onto her back and stared into the lowered glowing eyes of the CEnTAuR as its plasma emitters powered up for a final conclusion.

“Triximum Ultra Dense Plasma Immolators at full power! Ready... Aim... Fire!”

The Lunatron lurched forward as something punched into the back of its head with the force of an oncoming train. There was an ear-rending screech as the head was twisted all the way around, smoke pouring from the mechanisms forced beyond the conditions they were designed to operate in.

“What? No! Snips, Snails, shut it down! Shut it-“

The plasma fired, hitting the CEnTAur in its own rear end. The reinforced lunar metal melted under the intense heat, gouging a steaming hole straight through to the road below.

Shielding her eyes from the glare, Lyra gaped up at the destruction and, more importantly, who was doing the destroying.

A pegasus clad in purple, cape flowing out with every beat of her wings. Underneath a pointed hat, blank goggles reflected the glow of the blazing plasma. The rear of the Lunatron now thoroughly melted, the mystery mare pulled her hooves out of the deep rends in its head and darted away as Trixie sought to swat her with her creation's remaining hand.

“Who?! Who are you to interfere in my moment of triumph?!”

The CEnTAuR struggled to stand on two hooves, staggering like Vinyl after a week of ‘Research is more important than sleep’ mode. Apparently not wanting to talk, Miss Mysterious shot straight up like a rocket. Reaching high above the clouds, she curved her path back downwards. In a flair of movement, her wings disappeared under her cape, spinning her into a somersault as she plummeted down upon Trixie like a purple meteor.

“You wretched usurper! You haven’t heard the last of the Great and Powerful-“

The Lunatron utterly splattered all over the pavement. Witnesses would later describe it as being like a wedding cake being hit with a hammer, should said cake be made from several hundred tonnes of matrimonial metallurgy.

Lyra dropped down from the bank rooftop, sliding down the wall and dropping into a pained limp. In her ear she could hear responses from disguised M.A.R.E agents arriving to clear the wreckage and hold back the public, but Lyra was preoccupied with the caped figure highlighted atop the burning wreckage.

Lyra watched with confused eyes as the figure leapt away, crossing incredible distances from rooftop to rooftop as she fled the scene. She felt comforting hooves on her shoulder and turned to the comforting blue eyes of Nurse Redheart as she was eased onto a stretcher.

Lyra drifted into unconsciousness, struggling to understand what she had just witnessed, and instead only finding herself more and more concerned.

It might have been a result of her concussion or the exhaustion of the adrenaline wearing off but, for a moment, Lyra was sure those blank goggles were looking straight at her.

[Credits roll

NEXT WEEK ON HARPFLANK AND SWEETS

“And besides, It’s not like anypony has a use for a Cockatrice anyway..."

“And... She claims to have a bomb..."

“You’re the most insensitive mare I’ve ever met!”

“What... the hay are you...?

TUNE IN FOR THE NEXT EXCITING EPISODE OF… HARPFLANK AND SWEETS]

-------------------
Coming soon: Episode 31-The New Sheriff in Town!

My Little Pony Belongs to Hasbro

Episode 31: A New Sheriff in Town

HARPFLANK AND SWEETS

Created by Arcainum
Written by Supersheep64

Opening Titles

HARPFLANK AND SWEETS: EPISODE 31- A NEW SHERIFF IN TOWN

Scene 1

On the corner of 33rd and Mane stood a humble Pizzeria. Humble, in this sense, meaning being completely interchangeable with any other branch that exists anywhere in Equestria. However, what the place lacked in originality, it made up for in perseverance. There aren't that many restaurants that can put up with a 20 strong birthday party of ear-bleedingly ‘precocious’ foals locked in mortal combat and armed with that most deadly of weapons: the balloon-on-a-stick!

In this temple of fun and calories, a haggard waitress led three unusual customers to their reserved table, unaware of the most sinister meeting that was about to take place.

As they approached their destination, the three Diamond Dogs slid onto a bench, squashing up against the wall in size order, much like particularly ugly sardines trying to slide into a tin. Only stinkier.

Opposite them, Surprise lowered the kids menu to the table, looking across at the new arrivals with with a look of calm self-assurance. She steepled her hooves and spoke in a dark velvet tone that held the presence to crumble solid rock.

“I’ve been expecting you.”

The long suffering waitress rolled her eyes.

“Well, they clearly didn’t expect you reserved this table just for yourself, Miss.”

Without averting her gaze from her companions, a frowning Surprise dismissively threw the menu in her stupid moment-ruining face with a terse response.

“Just shut up and take our order.”

After they had all given their selections and the smart-ass had left, Surprise pounded a hoof on the table, leaning in conspiratorially.

“10 bits says she pees in my drink.”

Rover rubbed his oversized jaw absently, wondering whether he should answer, or let her continue in monologue. Diamond dogs are not really known for being masters of subtle conversation cues, and when you work for a mare whose idea of an enjoyable first date includes chloroform, chainsaws and banana-flavoured pudding, it was nearly impossible to get a good read on her emotional state.

Rover discreetly looked her up and down to see if there were any clues there on what she wanted him to do in this situation.

Despite her notoriety, she hadn't bothered to take any measures to disguise herself... Unless you counted a disguise as cola stained fur from an earlier spill and orange-marked hooves from where she’d been coloring in the crossword in crayon.

Seeing as she was still staring at him, he tried to cut right to the heart of the matter.

“Uh, boss? Why did you ask us to come listen to your plan in such a public place?”

Spot looked at his pal in severe confusion.

“Wait, we have a plan? I thought you just wanted us to commit random crimes to de-stabilize the system and lure Harpflank and Sweets out of hiding?”

Surprise chuckled, fixing Spot with a condescending smirk.

“Of course I have a plan silly, otherwise the whole thing would be pointless!”

Rover and Spot leaned forward eagerly, now intrigued at what she had to say. About three seconds behind them, Fido realized he was being left out and did the same.

“So? What is this plan, Boss?”

Surprise looked blankly at them for a second before leaning back and stretching.

“I dunno.”

A group of young foals ran past them, trailing balloons and party hats as they squealed in playful joy. Surprise giggled with childish glee when they tripped the overloaded waitress, spilling pizza onto their long-suffering parents.

When she finally turned back to her companions it was painfully apparent that they were failing to wrap their limited canine minds around her questionable logic. Surprise looked back at them with equal confusion.

“What?”

Rover rubbed the base of his muzzle with a chunky paw, trying to reign in his irritation.

“Listen, pony. We agreed to break you out of crazy prison because you said you knew how to make us richer than we can dream of. But how can we trust you if you don’t even remember your own plan?”

Surprise grinned in that signature menacing way of hers, tapping her hooves together in front of her. Rover couldn’t tell if she was meant to be scheming or applauding.

“Oh you silly pup, there’s no fun in destabilizing the established system if I know exactly what’s going to happen next! And, well - one of the perks of being certifiably insane is that you can lock away nuggets of information in the little cracks of your own Psyche.”

She picked up her crayon and began frenziedly doodling crude representations of Harpflank and Sweets on her napkin.

“The only thing I remember is that when I was in the loony bin, I thoroughly planned out a whole bunch of schemes that could destroy Harpflank and Sweets and throw the city into chaos! I recall each step of the plan one by one, following my instructions to the letter...”

She began to expand her drawing to include her laughing above some burning tents, a rampaging Lunatron, and some note-like theories on what her eventual goal was. For some reason, the word ‘Aliens’ was crossed out repeatedly.

“I may not know what my plan is right now, but just imagine how awesome it’ll be when I eventually figure it out!”

By this point, she was hunched over the table, nose pressed up against the paper as she stared in obsessive frenzy.

“A beautiful puzzle to solve, a point to prove, juggling lives in one hoof and fire in the other, a perfect game to play against the greatest of opponents!”

Her neck twitched, eyes shrunk with madness as she tore the crayon effigy, shredded pieces of red and blue costumed heroes falling to the floor. Surprise leaded back, tensely smoothing down her mane, which somehow twitched and frizzed even further than it already was in time with her breathing.

“So to answer your question, mutt, the most glorious of answers I can possibly give!”

She poked him in the nose, hissing every word.

“You’re just going to have to trust me, because it’s. A. Surprise!”

Fido nonchalantly poked her with the massive bulk of his unwieldy arms.

“Pizza’s here.”

Surprise perked up with the kind of sudden enthusiasm reserved for the exclusive use of the emotionally unstable.

“Allright! Mine’s the one with the anchovies, marshmallows, maple syrup, deep-fried watermelon, hot sauce, krutons, oreos, beef gravy, vindaloo and extra cheese!”

The severely disturbed waitress decided to re-evaluate whether this job was worth minimum wage.

Scene 2

Lyra surfaced from a deep sleep, groaning in discomfort as harsh lighting burned through her eyelids like dry leaves under a magnifying glass. As she blinked in the scorching, blurry image of the traitorous strip lights, her eyes kind of felt like dry leaves as well, eliciting further groans from the groggy mare.

Lyra was denied any further respite when Nurse Redheart swiftly lifted the edge of her mattress, dislodging her to the sterile floor.

“Ahh! I’m up! I’m up!”

Redheart trotted round to Lyra’s side, disconnecting her from the now frantically beeping heart monitor as the watching Octavia struggled to restrain her smile. As she remembered her embarrassing performance against Trixie's CEnTAuR and the state that performance had put her in, Lyra frowned at the medical mare.

“This is because I made you work overtime, Isn’t it?”

Redheart locked eyes for a second, but gave no response. The Nurse stepped back, motioning for Octavia to approach the patient as she vehemently yanked out Lyra’s IV tube.

“Lyra, the Commander wants to see you in her office right away.”

Lyra rubbed her arm protectively.

“How... How long was I out?”

“A week.”

“A week?!”

Octavia was expecting this kind of reaction and cut Lyra off before she could get herself worked up.

“The Commander knew you would want to be up and about as soon as you woke up, so she ordered you be sedated until you had fully recovered. Fortunately, you and Bon-Bon heal much faster than normal ponies.”

Lyra rubbed her face as she rose to her hooves.

“And Bon-Bon? Is she-”

“She’s waiting for you up in the office. The Science Expo was attacked at the same time as the city center. Luckily she wasn't as badly injured as you were, but the perpetrator still managed to escape.”

Lyra followed Octavia as she led her out of the medical bay. Busy M.A.R.E agents crowded the corridor, but they moved aside for Lyra and Octavia as they made their way into an empty elevator.

“Another one of Luna’s minions?”

“We don’t think so.”

“And that... Caped pony? Do we know anything about her?”

Octavia blew a strand of hair out of her eyes and looked away in an exasperated fashion.

“I think the whole city knows about her...”

“Huh?”

The elevator dinged as they reached the Commander’s floor. Lyra stepped out, glancing back as Octavia pressed the button for for the Research and Development floor.

“In the meantime, I have to convince Vinyl to take enough time off fixing the Nanosuits to have lunch and a shower.”

For some reason, the mention of the broken suits gave Lyra a twinge of unease. Like any insecurity, she covered it up with offhoof flippancy.

“Vinyl takes showers?”

Octavia smiled a little as the doors closed again.

“Good luck, Lyra.”

Lyra walked down the corridor and entered the Commander’s Quarters. Sure enough, Bon-Bon was already there, staring at the wall distractedly. Lyra immediately grinned at her, happy to see she was alright. Strangely, Bon-Bon noticed her presence, but gave no indication of acknowledging the sentiment.

Before Lyra could interpret this, the Commander swiveled in her chair to address them directly.

“Ah, Lyra! Good to see you mobile again, the city is in great need of you both in these strange times.”

Lyra snapped off a quick salute, noting that the Commander barely restrained herself from reciprocating the gesture. She also saw that half her face was wrapped in bandages.

“Commander... Were we attacked or something?”

Derpy cleared her throat and suddenly found great interest in re-arranging the chaos on her desk.

“Uh... No... Let’s just say military protocol and glass bottles are a deadly combination.”

Lyra winced as the Commander stood up and circled the desk, waving a hoof in the air.

“Anyway! We’re not here to discuss my traitorous muscle spasms!”

She slammed the hoof down onto her console, blaring blue-tinged holograms into life above her.

“As you both know, Luna is forever trying to destroy this wonderful city we call home. She will stop at noth-”

“Get on with it.”

Derpy choked her intro as she noticed Bon-Bon was wearily glaring at her. Recovering her composure, she roughly elbowed the device, changing the stock footage to a floating physiological profile depicting a curly-haired ivory pegasus.

“Recently however, Luna has had some competition for our attention. Four weeks ago, patient #72873/B, Surprise, escaped from the Metropony Maximum Security Hospital for the Criminally Insane. Police investigation revealed that accomplices somehow tunneled through the solid concrete floor of her cell and, since free, she has declared a personal vendetta against Harpflank and Sweets.”

Lyra glanced over at her partner, outraged and offended.

“What did we ever do to her?”

Bon-Bon finally met her gaze with a burning one of her own.

“We protect peace and save lives, apparently that’s all it takes nowadays.”

Derpy changed the image to a 3-D map of the city, various places highlighted in green randomly distributed at different locations and altitudes throughout the metropolis and surrounding areas.

“Since her debut, she has been committing non-stop felonies ranging from graffiti and insurance fraud through to grand theft narwhal and public indecency.”

Bon-Bon squinted, taking in the notes of the bizarre crime spree as she spoke up.

“We... Don’t normally wear clothes...”

Both mares looked over at Derpy for confirmation.

“How did she-”

“You don’t want to know.”

Seeing they took her at her word, Derpy continued with her assessment.

"Her 'attacks' may be largely juvenile in nature, but she shows signs of being very well financed, supplied and informed. Most worryingly, she seems to be aware of M.A.R.E's existence and your affiliation with us."

Lyra raised an eyebrow.

"What did she do that let you figure that out?"

Derpy was more peeved than Lyra had ever seen her.

"She told me as much while she was egging my house..."

"Do you think it could be the empire's doing?"

Derpy shook her head sadly.

"No, that would be too simple... And besides, they've been too busy to contribute anything to this little crime spree."

Ignoring Lyra's questioning glance, Derpy began staring wistfully into the calming glow of the hologram.

“Though this is small potatoes now, I think it’s probably just to keep us distracted before she commits her next major assault.”

Derpy closed her visible eye, wings drooping in frustration.

“I’ll be honest with you... I don’t like this. At least with Luna we could predict where she was going to strike next...”

Lyra folded her forelegs across her chest, frowning in tandem with Derpy at the current situation.

“And, on the subject, what are we going to do about that Lunatic while we chase after this one?

Derpy smiled and typed a command into her keyboard.

“Now that’s where we catch our lucky break!”

The hologram changed to a news broadcast, a glamorous griffon reporter standing in front of a damaged storefront and wrecked sidewalk as text scrolled along the bottom of the screen.

“-And we’re coming to you live outside Pony Joe’s Doughnut Emporium, where renowned cruller conveyor Doughnut Joe was just rescued by the enigmatic masked avenger, The Mysterious Maredowell!”

The reporter handed attention over to a large, vaguely scruffy unicorn dusted with flour and sprinkles. In the corner of her eye, Bon-Bon could see Lyra incredulously mouthing ‘Maredowell?’ under her breath.

“Mr Joe, explain to us what happened here.”

The camera zoomed in on the excited baker, still buzzing from an attempted robbery.

"I was about to close up shop for the day when what should happen? Nothin less than a bunch’a doggie punks just breezin in and demandin all the bits in the register! Well, I told 'em where to stick it, but they knocked me down, grabbed a whole crate of doughnuts and made to get outta there. Looked like they was gonna get away with it too - then all'a sudden she showed up!"

An excited gleam burned fervently in his eyes as his hooves moved to convey the actions in his story.

"Oh man, I seen some brawls in my time, but she was something else! She just landed on this one guy, and threw him into this other guy, and when they tried to pull their guns on her, she just tore up the pavement so they didn't have a leg to stand on!”

The reporter flinched back as his flailing hooves accidentally punched out her soundguy, sending his tattered boom mike clattering to the ground.

“With this story to tell, and a rescuing endorsement from a bone-fide superhero, I’m gonna have all the business I could ask for! I’ll dunk all the competition and make my doughnut store famous! Forevah! Ahahahahahahah!”

As the reporter desperately tried to get away from the overzealous baker Bon-Bon hummed appreciatively at the described feats.

“Tearing up concrete? That’s pretty strong for a pegasus... Even a superpowered one.”

Lyra huffed, suddenly finding great interest in the network of cracks in the Commander's ceiling, which were substantially more numerous than in any other room of the building for some reason.

“Yeah, I’m sure she’s really great.”

Derpy cut the feed, turning back to Lyra and Bon-Bon.

“Since her appearance last week, Maredowell has been working 24/7. Heroic rescues, fighting crime, helping the elderly-”

Lyra threw her hooves in the air as she cut in.

“Oh come on! Now she’s just trying to make us look bad.”

“-but what we’re more concerned with is what she’s been doing out of the public eye.”

Even the moody Bon-Bon had to raise an eyebrow at that insinuation.

“As you know, M.A.R.E. employs an extensive intelligence network to keep track of Luna’s underground operations in the hopes of predicting where she plans to strike next. Recently, however, all they have been finding are unconscious goons and smashed Lunatrons.”

“And they bore evidence of her hoof-work?” Asked Bon-Bon.

Derpy nodded.

“The only way she could have found out about these operations before us is if she has access to the empire’s communication channels. Obviously, we need to find out how she did it, it could tilt the entire war in our favor!”

Lyra grinned mischievously, taking an opportunity to ruffle the Commander’s feathers.

“But you need us because you've been unable to keep up with her, right?

Derpy sighed in acceptance.

“... Yes.”

She jammed a hoof at Lyra and Bon-Bon, a fire blazing in her eye.

“Officially, the city council tolerates masked vigilantes like you two. Unofficially, ‘vigilantes’ are only tolerated as long as they take orders. Unfortunately, her continued elusiveness is making it harder for me to convince them them to hold off on issuing an arrest warrant! We need you two to earn her trust and convince her to join M.A.R.E. With three superheroes, we may finally have a real chance of returning peace to our fair city!”

Lyra and Bon-Bon snapped a salute, causing notable stress to the bandaged Derpy in the process.

“We’re on it, Commander!"

“Yeah, we just need something to lure her out of hiding and we’ll bring her in!”

Bon-Bon looked askance at her companion.

“Lure her out of hiding?”

Lyra coughed awkwardly, suddenly bashful under Bon-Bon’s harsh stare.

“Or something like that..”

In impeccable timing, klaxons rang out through the building and a panicked stallion burst into the office, panting heavily as he gave a hasty salute.

“Commander! Word from the Police Department, Surprise is invading the Everfree Zoological centre! And... She claims to have a bomb."

The Commander twitched violently as she pinned her favored saluting arm to the desk with her free hoof. The stallion dutifully stood at attention through these convulsions, tactfully lowering his arm before Derpy had an aneurysm. Freed from her compulsion, the Commander cleared her throat and dismissed him with a friendly complement.

“Good work, Lieutenant Red Shirt!”

He gave a long suffering sigh.

“It’s Reed Shift, Commander.”

“Uh, yes, that.”

The Lieutenant left and Lyra frowned as she turned his information over in her mind.

“Why would she attack the zoo? There’s nothing of any real value in there!”

Bon-Bon gritted her teeth with barely restrained loathing.

“For the same reason she attacked the Expo, it’s filled with innocent ponies, especially foals. She knows there’s no way we can afford to just ignore her.”

Bon-Bon stormed out of the office, bumping past Lyra as she went.

“Hurry up and get your gear, we’re going after her.”

Lyra looked in shock at the retreating form of her partner, taken off guard by the aggression radiating from the normally tranquil mare. She turned back to the Commander, only to find she was still pensively staring at the holograms. When Derpy finally took her eye off the images to address Lyra, she gave no indication having noticed anything odd.

“You heard her, Lyra. Suit up, the city needs you!”

The two ponies gave each other the customary salute and Lyra scurried off to do her duty.

The Commander fell back down in her chair, knocking paperwork to the ground as she cringingly clutched at her bandaged head.

“... I think I need to make helmets a part of my uniform.”

Scene 3

Red and Blue flashed across the rooftops of Metropony City, two dynamic blurs terrifically traversing the topography faster than the eye can track. As she ran, Lyra found herself unable to drag her eyes off of the blue and pink tail purposefully pushing ahead in direct spite of her own efforts to keep up. Her communicator bleeped and Vinyl’s exhausted voice trickled into her ears.

“Nanosuits are still down, guys, you’re gonna have to handle this the old fashioned way.”

Another twinge of unease. Lyra shook her head and took the opportunity to dive into her trademark bluster, shaking off her concerns in the pre-battle adrenaline.

“You’re still going on about that? We don’t need any of that fancy stuff to clobber this joker, right BB?”

“... As long as we work as a team, we’ll be fine.”

Vinyl snorted, amusement creeping into her voice.

“Hey, seeing as I’m the one who has to make all that ‘fancy stuff’ for you, how about a little appreciat-oof!”

Octavia roughly pushed her aside, settling into the chair and addressing the outbound agents with much more professionalism than her counterpart.

“Lyra, Bon-Bon. Intel reports that Surprise is utilizing knockout gas to incapacitate the zoo's occupants, and has barricaded all the the entrances to deny all access to law enforcement officers. It’s probable she has set up another signal jammer somewhere in the facility. If this is the case, we will be unable to provide you with support or information once you enter the complex. Good luck, my little ponies.”

As the briefing ended, Lyra finally caught up to her partner, trying to edge into her line of vision.

"Sooo... Where are we going?"

Bon-Bon shot her a disbelieving glance as they slid down a sloping roof, the whine of police sirens starting to fade into the periphery of their hearing.

"The Everfree Centre? The only zoo in Equestria to successfully store magical and monstrous creatures?"

Lyra stared blankly back at her.

“Just forget it.”

Thinking back, Lyra did begin to remember some old news report about a new zoo in Metropony. For some strange reason the city's tourism had taken a dip in recent years, so the Mayor had taken to numerous publicity stunts in an attempt to distract potential holidaymakers from the weekly incidences of mechanized peril.

Lyra sighed in recognition that even if they succeeded in saving everypony trapped in there, the Mayor would still be having strong words with Derpy over the bad press that came from her tourist trap actually being used to trap tourists.

Lyra and Bon-Bon skidded to a halt as they finally reached the outskirts of Metropony. Ahead, a shining sapphire force field encircled acres of simulated woodland that had been separated into dozens of exhibits and enclosures by walls of reinforced steel. The force field itself blossomed out from a central control tower, fully capable of providing protection to Metropony city in a last defense should the monsters inside the barrier ever escape.

In hindsight, the architects should probably have put just as much care into protecting the zoo from the monsters that lived on the outside as well.

As Lyra looked down over the area, she beheld a scene of panic. At the base of the magical dome, emergency services had clustered around it’s perimeter like ants on a picnic, holding back the frightened and desperate mob of ponies that was spreading across the streets like very colorful fungus.

The cause of the panic was evident. Like pus spilling from an open wound, Surprise’s knockout gas had spread to fill every available nook and cranny of the zoo’s interior. Even from here, the the thick yellow gas cloud could be seen billowing tempestuously against the inside of the force field, drowning all but the tallest of trees and fences in a sickly ocean of yellow.

Wordlessly, Lyra and Bon-Bon leapt from the rooftop, their superpowered leap taking them clean over the heads of the frantic crowd as they landed in front of the barricaded entrance to the facility.

Lyra squinted at the blockage before her.

“What is it?”

It was a fair question. At her best guess, Lyra would have said that Surprise had sealed off the gateway with some sort of adhesive gel that had been sprayed down and then hardened, like caramel, forming an airtight crystalline barrier that filled every corner of the entranceway.

That, or magic.

Lyra shook off these pointless musings, suspecting the truth of the matter would be more complicated than she had the patience or wherewithal to comprehend. With Bon-Bon offering no further insight into the mystery, Lyra limbered herself up for the action ahead.

“Whatever it is, I’m pretty sure I can smash it!”

“No.”

Lyra deflated.

“No?”

Bon-Bon’s eyes darted back and forth across the crystal wall, checking for weakness and fractures.

“If we just break this thing, all the gas will drain out into the crowd... Vinyl, if you calibrate the frequency of our suits to that of the force field, do you think we could pass through?”

“Huh?... Uh, yeah... Probably. Let me get on that.”

In the wake of their conversation, Lyra shifted uncomfortably, unable to ignore the cold atmosphere radiating off of Bon-Bon in waves. Going out on a limb, she directed her gaze downwards, ears folding back.

"Bon-Bon... Are you mad at me?"

A pause.

"... Why would I be mad at you?"

Lyra flustered a little.

"I dunno, you just seem-"

“Ayyy-nd... Done. There you go, guys! One makeshift anti-force-field force-field! I’m pretty sure this thing will get you through there with most of your limbs still attached. Just, ah... Keep ‘em tucked in close to your body, ok?”

“Sure thing, Vinyl. Over and out.”

Cutting the call, Bon-Bon leapt headlong through the force-field, making the entire barrier ripple like a stone dropped into a pond. Lyra stood there for a second, awkwardly attempting to make sense of the twisted and confused feelings that were scrunched up in her gut. With a sigh, she focused herself back on the mission, pausing only to take a deep breath before she followed, leaping through into the unknown.

Scene 4

Lyra hit the ground hard, her shoulder taking the brunt of the impact as she bounced and rolled into an awkward crouch. Though she had made it through the force field, the act of doing so had felt as if she'd belly-flopped into a pool from three stories up. As a result, she unwittingly inhaled and found herself dry heaving at the nauseating sensation as her retinas burned from the chemical fog.

Lyra clenched shut her stinging eyes and mouth, attempting to deny the sickly gas further entrance to her body as her own tongue flailed around, making a passable attempt at suicide.

Just as she thought she would pass out from asphyxiation, a hoof plunged out of the murky tempest, reaching into Lyra’s saddlebags and then pressing something against her face.

After last week’s embarrassing defeat, Bon-Bon had been determined to not fall for the same trick twice and had convinced Vinyl to update their stock of gadgetry. The sleek metallic gas masks that their tech-heads had come up with easily slipped over the standard masks that the duo wore, their stylish markings being the inverse of the colors on their more iconic facewear.

After attaching to her face, the vacuum seal hissed with confirmation and Lyra sucked greedily at the converted air as she at last opened her eyes and looked around.

From above, the cloud of gas had looked only like an ocean of dull yellow cotton, but down here it was like an alien world. Being heavier than air, all the knockout gas had collected at ground level and, as a result, the cloud’s sheer density blocked out all light from the surface to the point where you couldn't even see murky-yellow hoof in front of murky-yellow face.

The only thing visible in the endless yellow void was the illuminated green visor of the gas mask located right in front of her. Lyra sheepishly looked past that visor at the eyes of the pony giving her the best ‘What are you, an idiot?’ face she had ever seen.

Bon-Bon’s voice crackled over their personal radio, laced with barely-restrained exasperation.

“Tavi was right about our communications, we were cut off as soon as we jumped inside… Kind of a shame considering how hopeless you are on your own.”

Lyra swallowed, intently wary of the noise in the oppressive silence that permeated the entire facility.

“Sorry, BB…”

Groping blind, Bon-Bon reached into her bags and pulled out an Ex-tech grade glowstick, cracking the tube until it faintly illuminated the swampy haze, if only for about three meters in every direction.

“Be on the lookout, she may be a raving lunatic, but she's cunning and devious. Prepare yourself for anything."

Lyra just nodded, unwilling to push her luck with whatever she'd done to vex Bon-Bon's 'sensitive' nature. Seeing that their eyesight wouldn't do much to help them, the two ponies chose a random direction and ventured deeper into the cloud.

A few minutes passed in surreal isolation, the few trees and fences they passed close enough to see having been warped by the half-light into grotesque formations of a hellish landscape. They pressed on in silence, the only sound being their own shallow breathing as it echoed in their ears.

It didn't take too long before Lyra picked up on an important fact.

"At this time of day, the zoo should have been teeming with guests... So where is everypony?"

"Surprise must have moved them all somewhere... I guess they're of no use to her if we could just take them without a fight."

Lyra quickly attempted to find another way to keep the conversation moving. Heck, the awkward silence Bon-Bon was giving her today was bad enough without it being compounded by the whole 'silence of the grave' thing the zoo currently had going for it.

"I wonder if she extended the same ‘care’ to all the animals..."

Bon-Bon shook her head dismissively, creating hypnotic whorls and eddies in the smoke as her mane whipped with the movement.

"They're all magical creatures, they can probably survive this better than ponies can."

"I hope you're right... I don't need the extra paperwork that comes with letting some rare, endangered, albino Manticore kick the bucket while we're on the job... Hey, are we going upwards?"

Gaining hope, Lyra and Bon-Bon increased their pace, swiftly sprinting until the slope took them up and out of the putrid smog.

Stepping into blue-tinged sunlight, Lyra and Bon-Bon looked up, their eyes drawn to the (literally) enchanting glow spiraling around the spire of the colossal control tower. Luckily for them, it seemed the center of the zoo had been built onto a hill, clearly intending to boost the range of their tower's magic. As a result, the heavy gas had swiftly rolled off of this high ground, turning it into the sole island in an ocean of buttery death.

While not quite stupid enough to remove their masks entirely, given the change in circumstance, Lyra and Bon-Bon disengaged the vacuum seals so they could at least talk normally.

"Well, she has to be somewhere in here... Think we should split up and-"

"No."

"Oh... oh-kaaay..."

Releasing a sigh at being constantly shut-down, Lyra obediently followed after her partner as she began to explore the 'island' they had washed up on.

As they began their search, They soon found that the hill's plateau was much larger than they originally thought. Branching out from the control tower, the zoo's central space had been used to house the more commercial aspects of the tourist trade: Cafes, gift shops, restrooms, public information desks... All the stuff needed to make the tourists forget about the ever-present stench of animal droppings that lingered everywhere.

As the pair of them passed under an archway, Lyra spared a glance for a cardboard cutout of the Everfee's cuddly mascot, Alfie the amicable Ursa. But despite how happy Alfie was to welcome them, the omnipresent silence was no less unnerving here than it was in the submerged lowlands they had come from.

Suppressing a shudder, Lyra couldn't get over how wrong this all felt. Normally these missions were the most fun she’d have all week, but Lyra could tell something was bugging Bon-Bon, and when BB was edgy, that made her edgy.

Thinking fast, she realized that if she couldn't get anywhere by asking her about it directly, she could at least try to change the mood by discussing something else that was on her mind.

"Hey BB, you were awake when this ‘Maredowell’ was doing her thing... What do you think of her?"

Lyra could tell her plan had worked when Bon-Bon gave her a confused look, rather than an irritated one.

"Well, I can't say I've given her much thought. I've been a bit preoccupied trying to track down little miss short, pale and crazy."

Lyra hopped in front of her companion, her eyes widening in fake shock as she backwards-walked to keep ahead of Bon-Bon's purposeful trudge.

"Not given it much thought?! You, who more than anyone have wanted to discover the secret of our powers, suddenly not caring about the only possible lead in months?"

Bon-Bon tried to step around her reversing partner, still futilely peeking into windows and storefronts for any signs of life in the veritable ghost town.

"Is now really the best time to discuss this? In case you've forgotten, we are searching for a homicidal maniac with a bomb right now!"

Lyra kept pace, keeping in front of Bon-Bon's face as she pressed the issue.

"Well in case you've forgotten, the Commander told us to recruit this 'Maredowell' the next time we saw her. If she's half the hero everypony says she is, she'll be here to save the day any minute now! We know exactly nothing about her, how she thinks or acts or feels... And as you've 'not given her much thought', now is really the only time we have to figure out how we're gonna win her over."

Bon-Bon came to a halt, rounding on Lyra with a barely contained patience.

"You want to know what I think? I think she's fast, and strong, and single minded. I think she has a burning sense of justice that borders on obsession, and I think that willingly wearing such a garish costume implies that she doesn't care what anyone else thinks of her."

She jabbed Lyra in the chest.

"In short, I think she's exactly like you! So you should stop acting so intimidated and just put a little faith in her! She did save your life, after all."

Lyra winced at the recollection. She couldn't help but remember that weird feeling she got when those blank goggles had looked at her.

"I dunno BB... There's just something I don't trust about her."

Bon-Bon raised an eyebrow in inquiry, but before she could speak, the sound of singing drifted past their ears. Locking onto a direction, Bon-Bon's anger rose to the surface.

"That's her. Let's go."

As Harpflank and Sweets rocketed towards their destination, Lyra's worries were soon forgotten. Moody best friends and creepy superheroes were one thing, but nothing could keep her spirits down when faced with the prospect of a good ass kicking.

Scene 5

Lyra and Bon-Bon finally located their quarry on the far side of the plateau. In the shade of a tourist information centre, a small tent and campsite had been erected, a rumpled sleeping bag showing that Surprise had only recently awoken from her rest.

Surprise herself was reclining on a common armchair, bleary-eyed and barely awake. Aside from a pair of off-white underpants, she was armed with nothing more than a morning newspaper and a fluffy-pink bathrobe/slipper combo that were about as intimidating as a bag of puppies.

Turning a page, the unseemly pegasus stifled a yawn as she scratched herself. In an action indicative of poor lifestyle choices everywhere, she reached out with a wing to grasp a nearby box and proceeded to stuff her face with hooffulls of dry cereal. In this circumstance, the phrase 'making yourself at home' seemed like gross understatement.

Eager to bring an end to the awkwardness, Bon-Bon angrily cleared her throat. Surprise looked up from her paper and then proceeded to blush like a foal in a kissing competition.

“Ah! Harpflank and Sweets! I didn’t hear you come in! Let me clean some of this up...”

Surprise sprang into the air, flinging the box and chair hastily into her tent flaps as she tucked the newspaper under one wing. Shooting apologetic glances at the bemused Harpflank and mistrustful Sweets, Surprise rolled up her sleeping bag and carefully hoisted her pillow by the tail.

Her still breathing pillow.

Lyra was the first to speak.

“Usually... You take the feathers off the bird before you sleep on them.”

Hoisting the Lizard-mutant over her shoulder, Surprise casually released it back into the depths of the sleep-smog it had come from.

"I prefer mine raw. And besides, it's not like anypony has a use for a Cockatrice anyway... They don't even make good tourist attractions."

To prove her point, Surprise held up a tourist information sign she had clearly ripped off one of the exhibits. In a stunning display of relevance, the sign helpfully displayed the message: 'Please do not feed, taunt or look at the animals.'

Surprise rolled her eyes, "And don't get me started on trying to keep one as a pet... But anyway! You should really ring me before you decide to barge in on one of my heinous crimes! I could have been naked!"

Bon-Bon gritted her teeth as she struggled to control her temper.

"And just why would you assume that we wouldn't try to stop a monster like you?"

Surprise flipped to the front page of her newspaper, gently tapping the image of a striking purple figure emblazoned under the headline.

"Well perhaps I thought you would be too embarrassed to show up, considering you're both such old news."

She tossed the paper to the ground and shrugged, flapping her wings slightly to loosen them up.

"But even if the entire public has completely forgotten about you in less than a week, I still want to spend time with you... I mean that other hero is a total mute, she keeps beating up my henchdogs without so much as a 'Hello-goodbye'! At least with you guys I get to hold a conversation."

Bon-Bon glared with undisguised hatred at the pony before her.

"Funny, I don't feel like talking. Where's the bomb?"

Surprise tutted disapprovingly.

"Not important right now. The question you should be asking is, 'where is the deactivation switch for the bomb'? Answer: Right here!"

Surprise reached into her voluminous mane, presenting it appetizingly before suddenly dropping it into the welcoming expanse of her undies.

"Feel free to grab it any time, but I warn you - I haven't washed for days!"

Lyra was about to... Very reluctantly... Do just that, but Bon-Bon wasn't finished yet.

"And where are all the ponies that were in this zoo? What have you done with them?!"

"That's an easy one! They're right behind you!"

Lyra rolled her eyes.

"Oh, like we're gonna fall for th-"

About this point, the Lunatron stepped on them.

For Lyra and Bon-Bon, the world turned upside-down for a moment as they were crushed face-first into the ground. Before they could even see what attacked them, the two ponies found themselves pinned and lifted by a set of crushing fingers.

Lyra sighed.

"Again?..."

Surprise flapped up high enough to meet their new eye level, once again having picked up her trusty newspaper.

"I know you girls think I'm evil, but to show you that I'm not ALL bad, I've decided to take up recycling. You see, some careless pony just left a huge pile of shattered robot parts lying in the middle of downtown, so I thought; 'might as well put this to some use!'"

As she looked over the machinery, Lyra could indeed see the resemblance to her old pal the CEnTAur. It had the same equine barrel chest merged onto an ape-like torso, it had the same number of limbs arranged in roughly the same locations, but apart from that...

It was hideous.

For all intents and purposes, It looked like the unborn love child of a Lunatron and a scrap heap. The outer plating was patchy and dented, the limbs were all different sizes and the head had been smashed into fractured clumps and used to patch up the holes where the original components were missing. It's once proud, upright torso now lay flat along the same plane as the rear, altering it's posture so it skittered about on all six legs like a decapitated ant. Serving as a replacement face, a wall sized HD plasma screen was embedded in the torso’s neck joint, still visibly wearing the price tag of the store it was stolen from.

But by far the worst thing about this abomination was the 'organic' element to it.

Fused onto the entire surface area of the machine were hundreds of ponies. Foals, parents, old mares, zookeepers... she'd even glued on a few kittens that she'd found from Celestia-knows-where. They were all blissfully unconscious and adhered to the shell of the aborted automaton by the same crystals as had been used in the barricades.

"As you can see I've made some upgrades to the armor, a unique alloy I call 'Hostageanium'! It's guaranteed to make any goody-four-shoes think twice about attacking it head on."

Bon-Bon grunted and twisted in the robot's iron grip, unable to break free.

"You... Sick... Freak!"

Surprise grinned bashfully.

"D'aaaaw, shucks! You always know just what to say to me!"

She doubled over in laughter at the outraged faces of her foes.

"What... You thought I was gonna fight fair? C'mon! You know I'd love to fight you myself, but the other me has first dibs and I gotta respect that!"

"The other..?"

At that moment the giant plasma screen winked into life, depicting a close up rendition of Surprise's own face in near-blu-ray quality.

"Hello! If you're hearing this message, that means I'm too busy to fight you directly... So please leave a message and my Lunapede deathbot will destroy you after the beep."

The real Surprise nodded in confirmation, but remembered something as she turned to leave.

"Oh! And if you get any funny ideas about trying to rescue the volunteers attached to my 'Lunapede' here, you should know that 'the bomb' I was talking about... Yeah, it's inside our friend here. And just because I'm feeling particularly vindictive, I put a self-destruct inside it that will go off if you attack it or try to interfere with the crystals."

The malformed Lunapede shifted it's limbs uneasily, and the plasma-screen-recording Surprise looked across at her present day counterpart with understandable fear.

"Wait, self-destruct? That was never part of the plan... Can... Can we talk about this?"

Regular Surprise ran a hoof down her face in exasperation before yelling up at her jumbo-sized atrocity with a long-suffering groan.

"Of course it was part the plan you idiot! I just hadn't remembered it was part of the plan back when I made that recording!"

The automated Surprise gave an 'o' of understanding before nodding her agreement.

"Right... I guess that makes sense."

Although they were currently being crushed to death, Lyra and Bon-Bon shared a look with each other. Bon-Bon raised a silent eyebrow, to which Lyra gave an attempt at a shrug.

Mini-Surprise rolled up her newspaper under one foreleg, flapping away and grumbling in a barely audible fashion as she made her escape.

"Honestly... The idiots I have to work with..."

The massive plasma screen twisted back to face it's captives, rolling it's tire-sized digital irises around the endless white of it's two dimensional face.

"Insufferable cow..."

The colossal machine shifted it's simulated gaze back and forth conspiratorially before leaning in with a malicious grin.

"Did you know she still wets the bed?..."

The Lunapede paused, narrowing it's pixels in suspicion as it noticed Lyra concentrating, a faint glow appearing around her horn.

"Are you trying to do that same 'hand detachment' thingy you did last week? Well, bit 'a bad news..."

A duel explosion echoed through the air as two clenched fists were ejected off their wrists, punching their screaming passengers through the wall of a nearby cafe.

"...I already beat ya to it."

Scene 6

After months of battling Luna's 'greatest' underling, Lyra had gotten used to villains that love the sound of their own voice... But a villain that holds a whole conversation with herself, now that was a new one.

Lyra's rocket fist slid to stop, wedged between an ice cream cabinet and a soft drinks machine. Before she could even speak, Bon-Bon appeared at her side, slicing into the captivating fingers with an Ex-Tech laser tool.

Lyra blinked, glancing over at the superheated edges of the other, already sliced open mecha-hand.

"Wow, BB, you're really on the ball today!"

Her own prison fell apart, thudding to the floorboards in chunks as Bon-Bon helped Lyra to her hooves.

"I'm not letting that maniac get away again. Now come on!"

The two mares broke out in a gallop, diving out through a back window just as Robo-Surprise jammed her televised face in through the gaping hole in the wall.

"It's no use fleeing you two! I was the asylum's number one hide-and-seek champion for five years running!"

The Lunapede surged forwards, letting the whole cafe collapse around it as it fervently scuttled in the direction of the escaping heroes. Emerging back outside, the misshapen machine zealously scanned the zoo plaza for it's prey... And found it completely empty.

The digital pegasus pursed her lips in befuddlement.

"Ok, you guys are good."

Then somepony threw a smoke bomb in her face.

"Argh! Even though this TV fulfills absolutely no visual function of my robot's sensors, I am horribly blinded!"

The Lunapede stumbled backwards, it's de-synchronized avatar coughing and spluttering despite being separated from the actual event by a pane of glass and the span of the fourth dimension. Harpflank and Sweets burst seemingly out of nowhere, firing off their grappling hooks as they darted between the misshapen legs in a criss-crossing blur of red and blue.

In a flurry of slides and hops, Lyra and Bon-Bon Twisted their cables into a hellish tangle of wires to rival even Vinyl's infamous video game collection. For a brief moment, the two of them locked eyes before grasping the ropes in their teeth and yanking the hooves right out from underneath the trussed-up Titan.

Lyra glanced at her partner, the beginnings of a smile twinkling in her eyes.

"That won't hold it for long, and if we can't fight back, it'll just keep coming. I need to go get that deactivation switch, or we're sunk."

Bon-Bon glowered back, her eyes so stern that it was hard to believe something so frivolous as a twinkle could ever have germinated in their depths.

"You have to get the switch? Lyra, Surprise knows she can't take both of us at once. She only set up this whole situation so she can get another stab as separating us! No matter what, we do not play this game by her rules!"

Lyra bristled, Bon-Bon's constant cold front finally making her lose her temper.

"So what? We risk losing these citizens lives?! I don't know how you let yourself get beaten up by some nutcase with a golf membership, but I don't intend to do the same!"

She shoved a hoof into Bon-Bon's chest, knocking her back a step as she turned to leave. The fallen Lunapede began to stir behind them as Bon-Bon ran after her, yelling in rage.

"Don't you DARE abandon me again Lyra! Get back here!"

Bon-Bon yelped as a sudden tension stopped her in her tracks. She glanced down from the sight of the escaping Lyra to see that in their brief moment of contact, Lyra had attached her grapple launcher onto the front of her uniform.

"You sneaky little..."

The Lunapede stood back up, snapping the line taut and pulling the unfortunate Sweets head-over-hooves backwards into an Undignified sprawl. Bon-Bon grimaced as she lay on her back, looking upwards into the pre-recorded face of the mare who had just been downgraded into the position of her second-least-favorite pony in existence.

Surprise smirked, her tone filled with the kind of I-told-you-so smugness only to be found in a mare who seems to actually have an unusually detailed prophetic capability.

"Ready for round two Sweetie?"

Sweets rolled her shoulders, her superequine frame positively glowing with hostility.

"More than you can imagine..."

Scene 7

Lyra grumbled to herself as she blazed off in pursuit of the saccharine psychopath they’d been dragged out to deal with. Judging by the fact that she couldn’t hear Bon-Bon ranting non-stop in her earpiece about what an idiot she was, she deduced that by splitting up, their personal radios must be being jammed just like their long-range communications.

It was certainly a relief not having to listen to that right now.

Although Lyra knew that she’d be getting no end of strife from Bon-bon for that little desertion later, it didn’t change the fact that she was way out of line today. Deep down, Lyra knew she had to stay true to her personal code, and that meant that she couldn't possibly be held back when lives were on the line.

Put in words, her motto went something like: ‘The only type of restraint a hero should use are the ones we slap on the bad guys.’

On an unrelated note, she also held the record for the most criminal hospitalizations in recorded history.

Following the flawless logic that ‘Villains like to have showdowns on top of tall things’, Lyra made a barely subsonic beeline for the central control tower. By the time she slid to a stop at the base of the monolithic monitor station, she’d already burnt off most of the frustration at Bon-Bon’s constant worrying and was ready for more action.

The control tower was very blue. Not just in the sense that it was bathed in blue light, though that was also true thanks to the massive force field blazing out the top, but more of a whoever-made-it-must-have-had-an-entire-warehouse-full-of-surplus-paint-that-they-needed-to-use-up-before-the-authorities-realized-that-the-product-produced-dangerous-levels-of-toxic-fumes-that-were-a-lawsuit-waiting-to-happen kind of blue.

Shaking herself off from the sheer amount of blue, Lyra proceeded to ignore the elevator, instead leaping from beam to beam as she swiftly scaled the tower’s support struts and pounced into the control room through the elevator shaft hatch.

The control room, at least, was relatively free of blue. Presumably, the zookeepers that work here had insisted on isolating the central arcane reactor behind a thick column of steel, blocking off the constant glare of it's perpetual generation. Lyra could understand how their desire for continued sanity could outweigh the novelty of a workplace that feels like you're constantly at the bottom of an aquarium.

Aside from the various off-shooting machines and computers that regulated the reactor, the other contents of the room were fairly standard for an employee hub. There was a ratty old desk with a stack of dog-eared magazines, the perimeter wall was filled with polarized windows overlooking the zoo and, over where Surprise was lounging around, there was a bank of monitors that received security feeds from around the facility.

In their brief separation, Surprise had scrubbed up, in a sense, from her previous slovenly attire. Now she just looked like a regular delusional psychopath, rather than a delusional psychopath first thing in the morning.

At Harpflank’s entrance, she rose from the simple office chair, spreading her wings wide. Lyra frowned as she smiled a self-satisfied smile, twirling an ominous-looking crystal staff in her forehooves. The switch Lyra had come searching for was nowhere to be found.

"Ah, Harpflank! Good timing. I just finished getting dressed for your arrival."

Lyra frowned.

"You're wearing less than you were five minutes ago."

"Well, yeah. But the point is that I'm now looking presentable."

She really wasn't.

Deciding to get back on topic, Lyra also stood on her hind legs, pointing a hoof accusingly as she did so.

“Alright you fruitcake, you can tell me where that switch is before or after I clean your clock. Your choice.”

“Oh, that old thing? I was lying about that. I think it opens my garage or something.”

Lyra growled in frustration.

“In that case, this is your last chance. Release those hostages or suffer the consequences!”

Surprise giggled with fangasmic delight, now floating on the spot.

“Eeeee! You’re just so adorably corny! Quick, say something else!”

Lyra flinched.

“Corny?”

"Yeah, you got the whole- SURPRISE!"

"I got the whole you? That doesn't make any- Ooof!"

Lyra flew backwards, slamming into the far wall with a painful thud. The blast of magic had erupted from the tip of Suprise's crystal sceptre, and now spread out over her limbs, quickly pinning her to the wall with shackles made from solid crystal.

Although this solved the mystery of where those other crystal structures had sprung from, Lyra had no time to feel pleased at this discovery and instead gasped in shock, quickly turning her voice to grunts of frustration as she struggled and flailed in her bindings.

Seeing Lyra's distress, Surprise rose up towards the ceiling, arms outstretched, head thrown back as she cackled maniacally.

"Mu-hahaha-HA! I have you now, Harpflank! And nopony, not Sweets, not Maredowell, nor your buddies back at M.A.R.E can save you now! Ahahahaha, hahahaha, HAHAHAHA-"

She paused, face frozen in mid-cackle.

"Come to think of it, what does that acronym even stand for?"

Distracted from the natural high that comes in tandem with any good bout of maniacal laughter, Surprise finally took notice of Lyra's struggles and was subsequently distracted from her distraction.

"Oh give it a rest, Harpflank. I liberated this sceptre from where it was stagnating in the Metropony museum and, according to the audio tour, it was made thousands of years ago by some uber-powerful tyrant with a crystal fetish."

Surprise briefly let herself admire the impeccable craftsmanship before letting her legs drop back to her side.

"Interesting anecdotes aside, the very fact that it's really, really old means it's too powerful for you to do anything about it."

Surprise gave a sympathetic smile as she shrugged amicably.

"Sorry, but them's the rules."

Lyra, turning red in the face from exertion, grunted out a response.

"Well... I guess king what's-his-face never counted on me then, did he?!"

Filled with heroic stubbornness, Lyra wrenched her whole body back and forth with Herculean force, fully intending to shatter her petty bonds with the power of justice. In reality however, the crystals proved a bit more indestructible than she had imagined, reducing her muscle flex to a sort of vague loopdy-hoop-hip-wiggle.

Surprise gave an empathetic half-grimace out of embarrassment for the both of them.

"Look Harpy-baby, I think it's time we had a heart to heart talk. We can't very well be kicking the snot out of one another without getting to know one another first... Er, Is now a good time?"

Lyra fixed her with the most deadpan glare she possessed.

"Dozens of ponies are about to die."

"Yeah, now's a good time. Coffee?"

Surprise held out a stone-cold cup of Applebucks left behind by one of the zookeepers. A moment passed before she remembered Lyra was completely immobile, and settled for just leaving the cup perched on the crystals right next to her head.

Floating back to the security desk, Surprise took a seat in the swivel chair, casually crossing her hind legs in a show of relaxation.

"Alright, let's clear the air between us. Let's gel, let's bond, let's break the ice! Ask me a question, Harpy, it's time to seize the day!"

Surprise leaned forwards expectantly, staring with intent at Lyra as she paused to catch her breath. As her breathing slowed to normal levels, Lyra fixed Surprise with the most determined, righteous glare a pony can give.

"Surprise, you are a lunatic, sadist, monster and a criminal. Those are the only things that I need to know in order to happily kick the snot out of you."

There was a charged atmosphere of silence following that heroic proclamation. It seemed Lyra's flat out dedication to her ideals were enough to give the madmare pause. Eventually, Surprise tilted her head, pursing her lips in contemplation.

"You don't like me very much, do you?"

Lyra raised an eyebrow.

"Does anyone?"

"No, I don't mean like me like me. I mean like you don't like dislike me like you like dislike Trixie."

"...What?"

Surprise slammed a hoof on the arm of her chair.

"Answer the question!"

"I don't like either of you! Where would you even get that idea?"

Surprise sighed and started speaking in a slower, patronizing tone.

"You have made it your life's goal to protect the ponies of this city. Yet no matter how hard you try, Trixie always gets away from you. So deep down, you kind of like fighting her because she lets you fulfill your purpose in life!"

Surprise pulled a face, searching for the right words to get her point across.

"...It's kind of like job security for the soul."

Lyra squirmed in her cocoon, hopefully chipping away at her immobility.

"Don't paint me with your colors, you crook. I would never want ponies to be endangered like that!"

Surprise held a hoof to her chin contemplatively.

"Yeah... You would look terrible in white and yellow. You don't have the flanks for it..."

"What is that supposed to-"

"But seriously now. There's no shame in wanting to fulfill your purpose! If a pony can't do what they were born to, they'd go crazy!"

Her eyes drifted downward as her entire posture deflated slightly. Surprise mumbled into her mane as she stared at nothing in particular.

"...And I should know..."

Lyra was so taken aback at this moment of weakness, that she almost didn't notice the roiling cloud of yellow rising up and obscuring the view out of the windows. Lyra blinked, confused enough to give in to stating the obvious.

"Are you filling the dome with more gas?"

Surprise perked up, overjoyed that her captive had finally taken the invitation to ask her a question.

"Yep! I had my Diamond Dogs run pipes under this place so I could pump the gas in on demand!"

"But Sweets and I have gas masks... And everything else in this zoo is already zonked out! Why do you need more gas?"

Surprise turned on the puppy-dog eyes, quivering her bottom lip as she spoke mockingly.

"Oh you poor innocent hero. Have you not yet learned the name of our little game?"

Lyra blinked slowly, narrowing her eyes as the maniac stood from her chair, trading her sceptre from hoof to hoof in impatience.

"I'll bite. What is the name of of the game?"

"Deception."

Lyra suddenly felt an extreme sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. She choked back a gasp as realization struck her.

"The gas... It does something else doesn't it!"

Surprise giggled.

"Corectamundo, Harpy! You see, that's the... Y’know, 'surprise' portion of my plan. My special knockout gas looks like it's slow moving, but that's only because the ambient magic from the zoo's shield generator slows it down. If a section of the shield fails..."

Surprise spun round suddenly, jamming her staff into the computer control panel. With a twist of her hooves, the entire keyboard was yanked out of it's socket in a shower of sparks.

"... Then my gas suddenly spreads a whole lot faster!"

On the streets outside the Everfree Center, dozens of ponies look up in unified horror as a colossal pie-slice of the sapphire dome abruptly sparked and flickered out of existence. Almost ponderously, the great yellow mass leaned forwards, as if testing the boundary it had been previously unable to cross. Then, in a burst of momentum, the gas broke forth like an unstoppable tidal wave, surging down streets and crashing over buildings, accompanied by the screams of the quickly unconscious ponies it consumed.

Lyra gaped out the window, now able to see everything thanks to the rapidly decreasing height of the gas layer emptying from it's brief container. Lyra turned back to her opponent, anger crossing her face as Surprise continued to float in place with her patented Cheshire grin.

"So what does this gain you? You'll knock out everypony in the city with this stuff... But why?"

"Oh, that's the best part of my plan! I can throw giant robots and ancient sorcery at you all I want, but c'mon, those are conventional super weapons! You'd be expecting that!"

Surprise lifted a hoof to her chin as she graced her foe with a coy little smile.

"There's a third property to my super-de-duper-gas you see. You thought maybe I chose this zoo as a perfect place to hold hostages? Wrong. You thought maybe I thought it the perfect place to draw my respective nemesi to their doom?... Wrong."

"No, I chose this place because it was the perfect spot to fill a colossal city-sized quantity of flammable gas and everypony would just think I was playing on the defensive."

Surprise rushed in close, forehead to forehead. Her eyes blazed with madness.

"You see, I don't fight with normal weapons, Harpflank. The zoo itself is my weapon. And it's a flamethrower."

She caressingly pressed a hoof to the side of Lyra's face and held it there. Then in a show of force, she twisted Lyra's head to face the window.

"Now lets watch and see which one of your heroic friends is dumb enough to strike the match."

Scene 8

Bon-Bon somersaulted over a containment fence, clearing the electrified wire by a few scant millimeters moments before a misshapen iron limb cleaved through its reinforced metal alloy like it was tissue paper. Turning to face the glowing visage of Cyber-Surprise, Bon-Bon reluctantly acknowledged she was starting to break a sweat.

The larger-than-life avatar tutted disapprovingly as she grinned her mocking pixilated grin.

"Pretty smart, Sweets. Trying to use the electricity to short out my circuits and disable me! Smart, that is, if it wasn't so darn predictable~"

Great. An insulated interior. For looking like a hunk of junk, that Lunapede sure was giving Bon-Bon a run for her money. Probably because she was rather lacking in the ability to... Oh I don't know, fight back.

Bon-Bon crouched in front of a dozing Manticore, the currently zonked-out occupant of the particular enclosure the Lunapede had chased her into. She flipped out of the way of another strike, unable to voice her frustrations due to the need to re-seal her gas mask after the gas levels began to suspiciously rise to cover their previous safe-zone, again making it really freaking hard to see.

Spurred on by the sound of clunky hoofstomps from somewhere in the murk, Bon-Bon flipped over the sleeping feline and quickly scaled the largest tree she could make out in the fog-drenched enclosure.

Bon-Bon yelped as another robotic hoof swept out of seemingly nowhere, crashing into the trunk and forcing her to cut short her breather and leap back to the ground. The fog briefly lit up in the glow of Robo-Surprise’s plasma screen, revealing the look of shock on her simulated face as the smashed tree toppled right down onto her mechanical cranium.

“Ow! Foul! Foul! No fair getting me to hurt myself! Stupid loophole in self-destruct programming!”

Bon-Bon used to the opportunity to sneak away, leaping over the downed electric fence as she made a break for it. As thick-headed as she was, Lyra had a point. Fighting this robot was getting her nowhere and she needed a new plan.

She had barely made her escape when she heard the screams. Bon-Bon’s blood ran cold as she realized she could now see the pale blue glow of the sky-filling force field above, and more pressingly, the gaping hole in that field through which the fog was rapidly departing. Although still unable to speak, her internal levels of ‘I told you so’ were quickly reaching critical mass.

Bon-Bon’s ear twitched at the sound of stampeding metal. With instincts honed through countless battles, she jumped, twisting in the air as the pouncing Lunapede smashed its forehooves into the ground where she had stood not half a second earlier.

Time seemed to slow as she hung in midair. Bon-Bon had barely time to register her error as a massive limb of twisted grey metal and magic crystals began to fill her field of vision. Her leap had dodged the blow of the middle forelimbs, but she’d forgotten this robot was designed with two sets of those, and she’d jumped right into the lethal path of one of the now handless fore-forelimbs.

The Lunapede almost toppled forwards as Cyber-Surprise placed all the momentum of her pounce into one, direct punch. Bon-Bon utterly tore a path through the thinning smoke as she flew across the enclosure and brutally smacked into the remains of the once-electrified metal fence.

Cyber-Surprise pumped her hostage-encrusted hooves in adulation, excitedly giggling to herself as she watched a badly stunned Sweets try to get her battered body back into action.

“Yes! Once again, it seems I have you on the ropes, Sweets! Now the physical portion of your defeat is complete, we can move onto the mental one!”

She raised her two-dimensional face to the rend in the force field, smirking slightly at the sight of a rapidly approaching purple figure.

“Now, if I’m remembering my instructions correctly... That should be gut-wrenching emotional decision arriving right now.”

True enough, the tidal wave of gas had attracted the attention of Metropony’s newest defender, who rocketed in through the slightly disabled dome, tracking the wave back to it’s source.

As she arrived on the scene, Maredowell’s eye was caught by an obscene amalgamation of machine and geology that seemed to be gleefully waving at her with it’s malformed tree-like limbs.

She swooped in close, realizing with a jolt that the robot was holding dozens of ponies hostage on it’s very body. Maredowell air-skidded to a stop, seemingly unconcerned by the lingering remnants of gas tinting the nearby atmosphere. Uncertain, she eyed the robot wearily as it began to speak.

"So you're the new blood that's been making such a splash in the papers. I bet you want to end my little crime-spree right here and now, don’t ya? Well I'm the past self of a deranged Supervillain/ Party animal inhabiting a big-ass robot dressed in people. What you got? C’mon, hit me with your best!"

Maredowell just hovered there, her unseen eyes presumably flickering over the weaknesses in the malformed metal body that would not be covered by the still-living hostages.

“What are you waiting for? Hit me!”

Maredowell continued to float in silence, still glaring suspiciously at the monster in front of her. eventually, the pre-recorded Pegasus let out an exasperated sigh.

“Fine. I see how it is. oh man, there’s just no fun in you ‘strong and silent’ types.”

Cyber-Surprise made the decision for her, halfheartedly lashing out so that Maredowell could easily dodge what was now, quite clearly, a threat to decent ponies everywhere. The masked mysterioso fluttered out of range, left with no choice but to act on this threat and save the civilians.

In a flash, Maredowell zipped skywards, circling around for a super-speed punch that would probably give the poorly-made Lunapede the same dismal fate as it's past incarnation did just a week previously. Unmoved, Cyber-Surprise continued to yell out after the departing hero, raising her speaker volume to make sure Maredowell caught every word of her incoherent babble.

"If you think I'm not capable of holding a conversation all by myself, then you are sorely mistaken, good sir! Back in college, I pulled off a solo performance of Hamlet - knocked the whole audience dead! I'll have no trouble memorizing your lines as well!"

Pushing aside the remains of the electric fence, Bon-Bon rose blearily to her hooves, shaking off the pain of the hit as best as she could.

At a glance she took in the tableau before her.

She saw Maredowell pick up speed as she barreled towards her foe.

She saw the Lunapede just stand there, waiting for the impact.

The impact which would detonate the bomb.

Bon-Bon's blood ran cold. Maredowell was about to accidentally kill those ponies, and with her gas mask still on, Bon-Bon couldn't say anything to warn her.

Time seemed to slow as Maredowell closed the gap on her target, approaching speeds that would make any normal pony blink in incomprehension. She was fast. Super fast.

But Bon-Bon was faster.

Bon-Bon full-on body slammed Maredowell out of the air, the two costumed heroes tumbling end-over-end as they gouged out a trench in the soft soil of the Manticore exhibit. Utterly undaunted and oblivious, the monologing Cyber-Surprise continued to blather on as if nothing had happened.

“-come to think of it, all that stabbing and poisoning is probably why I was incarcerated in the first place... Man, here I thought it was because I discovered where Celestia keeps all the little green men."

Bon-Bon pulled herself off of the ground yet again, cursing that the tainted air was still too concentrated for her to remove her mask. As she glanced over at Maredowell, it was clear the other hero had taken the brunt of the super-speed crash, bending her wing badly out of shape as it hung limply at her side.

Maredowell turned to face her attacker. Though still as expressionless as ever, she somehow exuded an aura of menace. Bon-Bon gulped at the understanding of that sensation. Maredowell wanted to save those civilians, and as far as was concerned... Sweets was now in the way.

Maredowell rose to her full height, folding her damaged wing under her cloak. Sneakily, she draped the sizable cloth around herself, silently concealing her movements. The blathering of the villainous recording faded from their hearing as the two heroes cautiously circled one another, looking for an opening.

From the deep recesses of her mind, Bon-Bon recalled all the times she and Lyra had sparred, hoping that the knowledge would help against this, one of the few other super-equines she would ever face.

As if coming to a mutual agreement, they both chose to attack at the exact same instant. They leapt together, clashing in an exchange of jabs and blocks so fast that they created a vacuum where the air molecules were unable to keep pace with them.

For a normal pony, the exchange would only have seemed to last for a scant few seconds, perhaps just less than ten should the observer be sufficiently dull enough to spend that time counting seconds, rather than watching the epic showdown playing out before them.

Eventually however, Bon-Bon's exhaustion proved her the slower combatant and Maredowell closed in, finally sliding past a clumsy punch and stunning Sweets with a dual blow to both sides of the head. As Sweets saw stars, Maredowell went low, sweeping Sweets' hooves out from under her and dropping her to the ground like a sack of costumed super-potatoes.

Not done yet, Maredowell leapt into the air, striking down with a diving kick that Sweets only just rolled away from. She spun around striving to kick high, but Bon-Bon caught the errant leg in both hooves, absorbing the blow before using it as an opportunity to yank Maredowell off the ground and then slam her face first into the dirt.

Bon-Bon dived down on Maredowell, grabbing her in a brutal headlock. Taking a chance, she glanced over at the Lunapede, not entirely shocked to discover it was still talking to itself in an endless stream of inane waffle.

Bon-Bon hated to do this, but she couldn't risk Maredowell activating the bomb. She had to knock her out quickly. With a heavy heart, she tightened her grip on Maredowell's neck, hoping that whatever she was using to breathe in the thinning gas-cloud wasn't enough to keep her awake without any lung intake at all.

Maredowell yanked at the hooves restraining her, attempting to break free, but her pegasus speed was of no match for earth pony strength, gaining not even a centimeter of leeway for breathing room.

It seemed the battle was over. Then, in a moment of miracles, a flash of light blared out from underneath a deep purple cloak.

All too suddenly, the tide turned. Bon-Bon didn't even have time to register the incredible burst of strength exhibited by her opponent before she was ripped off, tossed into the air and apple-bucked once again clean across the enclosure into the mangled remains of the formally electrified fence.

Bon-Bon coughed something onto the inside of her gas mask, blinking through hazy eyes at the casual stride of her approaching foe. Maredowell's cape fluttered behind her as she neared, allowing total access to the sight of her sides, and more importantly, how they were now completely bereft of wings.

Bon-Bon was beyond stunned. Before her very eyes, Maredowell had turned into an earth pony.

Before she was knocked out, Bon-Bon had enough time to mutter something into her face mask.

"What... The hay are you...?"

Then Maredowell smashed a hoof across her face, and Sweets slumped limply to the ground.

There was another flash of light and two feathered appendages once more slipped out from under her cloak. Maredowell looked them over critically, examining her now-healed wing with an experimental flap. Silent as ever, she turned back to the Lunapede.

"-so then I said: Oatmeal? Are you crazy?!... And then he said yes, which kinda made sense seeing as we were in a lunatic asylum at the time..."

Cyber-Surprise trailed off, looking somewhat confused at the victor of the battle before her.

"Hey... Did I miss anything?"

Wasting no time, Maredowell again took to the sky, circling around for a final blow. She was going to destroy that noisy robot, and this time, nothing would stop her.

Scene 9

Surprise couldn’t be more hyped up at the current turn of events, the superheroes were beating on each other right in front of her eyes and the city was about to go up in flames. Vibrating like a mentos-filled cola bottle, Surprise pressed her face up against the glass, squeeing in joy as Maredowell dealt the knockout blow to poor little Sweets. As if this wasn’t bad enough, she was also pressing Lyra’s face against the glass and, seeing as she was still strapped to the wall, served only to remind the unicorn that her neck wasn’t supposed to bend that way.

As the mystery mare took off to begin her attack run, Surprise finally released Lyra’s face, gasping in anticipation.

“Oh my gosh this is it! The end of Metropony, baby! Haha, suck it, Luna!”

Lyra stretched out her twisted neck, mind racing a mile a minute as she searched desperately for an opportunity, any opportunity. Surprise raised her hooves to her face, smooshing her cheeks together in a universal pose of overwhelming awesome.

“I win! I did it! It’s all going exactly as I expected!”

For about two seconds, her brain just froze up, as if experiencing a fatal error and having to reboot. Upon recovery, she moaned like a wounded seal, pounding her face with her hooves.

“Damnit! It’s going exactly as I expected! Curse my contradictory goals! Why does victory have to taste so foul!? Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!“

With each proclamation, she punctuated an exclamation point of double facehooves. In her distraction, the Crystal Sceptre slipped free from her grip and clattered to the floor.

With a sharp intake of breath, Lyra spotted her one and only chance. In the space of a second, Lyra’s gaze flitted over to the window, catching sight of Maredowell as she dashed past the tower on her speed-gaining attack run.

Lyra had just been forced to watch Maredowell beat the stuffing out of her best friend. The caped crusader had barely hesitated to leap into conflict with Sweets, and was even now about to blindly end the lives of everypony in the city. She’d upstaged Lyra, she’d made her look lame and useless, and, even now Lyra could feel that same uneasy sensation that she got just from looking at the other hero.

Lyra didn’t trust Maredowell in the slightest.

But not listening to Bon-Bon’s advice had gotten her into this mess. Bon-Bon had asked her to have faith in a pony who she had no reason to trust. With a smile, Lyra realized that that was exactly the situation in which they had first met. And it was time to return the favor.

For all her skills and talents, Lyra had never done well in magical theory. While a musician, martial artist and anthropologist, both the finer and blunter points of spell work and enchanted constructs were ever an enigma.

As such, it was probably more blind hope than knowledge that led to her next sudden, desperate move.

Surprise was close, too close. With a snap like a whip, Lyra's tail shot out and wrapped around the hilt of her sceptre, yanking it towards her as fast as a twitch. In a moment of truth, the crown of the staff swept up and simply... tapped against her restraints.

A ripple of magic shot out from the source and the crystals binding her just... disintegrated. Time seemed to slow down as Lyra fell into a crouch, cold coffee and crystal shards splashing and shattering to the ground around her as her face broke out in a massive grin.

Surprise had just enough time to look at her before the pain hit.

"Oh. Wasn't expecting that."

Lyra sent Surprise reeling with a firm left cross, flicking up her her tail to grab the staff in her other hoof. She dashed forwards with a flurry of kicks, pressing Surprise backwards before spinning around, adjusting her grip and hammering her in the jaw with a dual hoofed crystal baseball swing that sent Surprise smashing through the window as her whole body became encased in the creeping gemstones.

As she spiraled into the distance, a shrill voice could faintly be heard.

"Hey! I can see my house from here!"

A very muffled ‘oof’ could be heard as Surprise comically bounced off of the inside of the remaining force field, falling hundreds of feet before she disappeared behind the Everfree’s treeline.

Lyra glanced down through the broken window, spotting the rapidly zooming purple speck of Maredowell piercing the remaining vestiges of gas still lingering on the inside of the dome. In a moment of truth, she raised her hooves to her mouth and yelled as loud as she could.

It wasn't quite Luna-grade, but it was enough.

"TAKE IT UP!... TAKE!... IT!... UP!"

In the distance, a small purple head turned towards the source of the noise, lingering for the briefest moment before zooming in low to the ground, coming up on the malformed metal shape still ranting on like nothing had changed.

Lyra pulled her hoof back, concentrating harder than she ever had. She would only get one shot at this.

Lyra flung the sceptre as hard as she could, sending it scything through the air, whirling like a dervish. One second passed. Two. The staff arced down from the tower, and in a moment of pure, unadulterated awesome, slammed right into the back of the waiting Lunapede.

There was a ripple of magic emanating from the point of impact, spreading across the robot's mottled surface. All at once, everypony held hostage just harmlessly fell to the ground. Cyber-Surprise blinked her digital eyes in confusion.

"I feel... Strangely exposed..."

Then she saw what was coming for her.

"Oh sweet sassafras! I'm too young to self destruct!"

Maredowell shot up from underneath her, impacting in the gut with the force of an oncoming train. The Lunapede was yanked clear off the ground, out of the gas cloud, out of the hole in the shield, up, up, up... And then it exploded.

Lyra cried out in exaltation, punching the air as she fell into a relieved slump.

Her hind legs dangled over the edge of the tower as she looked out over the dispersing wreckage, falling well clear of the gas cloud's flammable spread.

From the depths of the explosion, a purple dot emerged, hovering in place for a moment before darting away, soon lost among the buildings of Metropony. Lyra smiled, taking a moment to revel in victory as she looked out over her city. Her safe city. Her... Sleeping city...

Lyra rubbed her face in her hooves.

"Oh horseapples..."

Lyra stood back up and slipped her gas mask back on. There was still a lot of cleanup to do.

Scene 10

In an enclosure on the outskirts of Everfree, Surprise watched the fireworks with a conflicted expression. On one hoof, she had indeed been surprised by the last-minute heroics of that dashing Harpflank girl. On the other, she had failed to destroy the city and now... Well pretty much everything hurt.

Although she was the kind of pony that was more likely to bounce rather than break, after a beating like that, it was kinda lucky this crystal prison also functioned like a full-body cast. It was almost a shame that she had landed in a relatively gas-free zone, she could have used the anesthesia.

Surprise finally settled on happiness at the result. She had cast out her net, and caught the fish she had been after. Hers was a paradoxical existence, she did bad things for the sake of those that would thwart her, she made intricate evil plans for the sole purpose of seeing them fail. She may have lost, but she had also won. And that's the best kind of fish you could possibly catch.

Now... If only she wasn't allergic to sushi...

As her ivory face turned to befuddlement over her own mixed metaphors, a mound of dirt rose up and broke open just a few feet away. Putting his oversized chin in his paws, Rover casually addressed the imoblile mastermind in front of him.

"I take it your plan failed, boss?"

"No, just the parts of it I remember. Did you remember to use my distraction to steal what I wanted you to steal?"

The canine grinned his toothy grin, rubbing his paws together gleefully.

"Oh, yes... Lots and lots of them..."

"Faa-aantastic! Hehehe. Now, as soon as I remember what it was I wanted you to steal... We can move on to the next stage..."

Completely lacking in mirth, she fixed Rover with a judging stare.

"Now drag me back home. It'll take at least a week for these crystals to wear off."

With a long-suffering sigh, Rover grabbed a sparkly crystal leg and dragged his leader into the hole. A few moments later, all that was left was a pile of dirt.

Scene 11

Activity had returned to the sleeping city. Hours had passed since it’s near-destruction, and the teams of pegasi smart enough to simply out-fly the oncoming sleep cloud had worked diligently, moving and dispersing the smog to harmless levels as they cleared Metropony sector-by-sector.

Lyra, of course, had been on the job the entire time, working with M.A.R.E’s clandestine disguised operatives to rouse and rescue injured ponies, isolate the few fires that had been started by rogue flames and to hastily repair the fence around the manticore exhibit when it looked like the hefty guy was starting to wake up. Thank goodness his wings were too small to actually fly.

Eventually, however, the day dragged on into evening, and Lyra finally gave into Octavia’s requests for her to take a break and leave the city in the hooves of the awakening authorities.

Limbs weary, Lyra walked the empty halls of M.A.R.E. In wake of the attack, the normally bustling HQ was now stretched thin, its agents at work in the field. With a sigh, she finally disengaged the gas mask, her tired eyes taking in their own reflection in the glass.

Though she herself was drained beyond the capability of thought, her hooves knew where to go. In almost no time at all Lyra was snapped back to reality by the hiss of the med-bay doors as she entered.

Bon-Bon glared at Lyra as she stepped into the room. Luckily, she had received mainly scrapes and bruising from her battles, though the concussion was another matter entirely. Lyra winced as she spotted the scant few bandages trailed around her bare chest where Maredowell had kicked her.

In the corner of the room, Nurse Redheart was unwinding the bandages on the Commander's face, revealing in full her expression of wonky displeasure. Derpy turned to address Lyra with an unsettling frown.

“Ah, Lyra. I just finished Debriefing Bon-Bon here. Do you have anything to add?”

Lyra chuckled uncomfortably under the combined glare of everypony else in the room. Seriously, she’d just come to see if Bon-Bon was okay, what was up with this hostility?

“Kinda a crazy day, huh?”

Derpy was unamused.

“From what I can gather, the city was almost destroyed because you two had an argument! You’re supposed to be our best agents! How could you let this happen?”

Lyra’s jaw dropped. Bon-Bon buried herself in her hospital bed as a shadow covered her face. Spluttering, Lyra spoke in their defence.

“But Commander, we saved all the hostages! We stopped the city from burning down! We-”

Derpy cut her off, brushing Redheart out of the way as she rose from her chair.

“But you did it by the skin of your teeth! And what about Surprise, huh? I can accept Trixie escaping from you every week, but it sounds to me like you had her at your mercy! All you had to do was tap her with that magic staff thingy, and she would have been helpless! Now our agents can’t find a trace of her because you opted for a homerun!”

Derpy rounded on Bon-Bon, pointing an accusatory hoof in anger.

“And you! I told you to negotiate with Maredowell, not assault her! You’ve ruined our chances of convincing her to join us! We needed her! And if this is the sort of performance you’re going to give me, then we probably need her a heck of a lot more than I thought we did!”

Bon-Bon said nothing. In one movement, she leapt out of the bed, shoved Lyra aside and strode out of the room. For a moment, everypony was so shocked at her sudden exit that they didn’t say anything. As the door began to hiss closed, Lyra woke back up and ran after her.

Releasing a groan, Derpy sat back into the chair. She noticed Redheart was glaring at her.

“What?”

Redheart continued to glare.

“Look, their conduct was-”

Redheart glared harder.

“Ok fine, I was too hard on them! It’s been a long day, alright?”

Her face drooped.

“I hope they can pull themselves together...”

“Bon-Bon, wait!”

As soon as she was out of sight of the med-bay, Bon-Bon had broken into a gallop. Considering her always surprising capability for ludicrous speed, they had run all the way outside HQ before Lyra had finally caught up to her. They slid to a halt in the peaceful garden outside of what was a seemingly ordinary building, and clearly not a front for a base of clandestine heroic operations in any way, shape or form.

Bon-Bon refused to face her, keeping her eyes firmly on the verdant grass just next to the stone path they stood on. Firmly, Lyra rested a hoof on her friend’s shoulder, concern crossing her features.

“Look, Derpy didn’t mean that... She’s just under pressure right now-”

“Shut up, Lyra! None of this would have happened if you just listened to me!”

Lyra flinched.

“BB, I... I know I ran off when you told me not to, but I needed to! Just like you needed to tackle Maredowell... And I did listen to you about trusting her, we would have been screwed if I hadn’t-”

“Oh, so the great hero saves the day? I guess you don’t have a problem with other heroes as long as they don’t steal your spotlight, huh?”

Lyra couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Her eye twitched as her exhaustion finally got the better of her.

“That’s it, Bon-Bon! You’ve been mean and hostile to me all day, and I want to know why! I’m trying to help you here!”

Bon-Bon looked up, and for the first time, Lyra could see the tears and frustration in her eyes.

“You really don’t know?”

Dumbly, Lyra shook her head. Bon-Bon gave a muted sob.

“You’re the most insensitive mare I’ve ever met! Why did you have to run off?!”

Lyra blinked in confusion.

“I told you... We couldn’t fight the robot head on, so-”

"Not that time, you idiot! I’m mad because you didn't go to the expo with me."

For a moment, Lyra was stunned. That's what this was about?

Falteringly, Bon-Bon continued.

"I... I just wanted a normal day... I just wanted to spend my birthday with my best friend... But you forgot about it. You didn’t even know that that’s why I was mad!"

Teardrops fell to earth, darkening the stone around their hooves.

"So I went alone, watched my foalhood burn around me, and when I returned? I found you lying in the infirmary practically torn apart... And I thought this job had finally killed you."

Lyra watched the tears fall, her whole body turned numb with shock. Bon-Bon sucked in a shuddering breath as her posture somehow found more space to collapse inwards.

"I thought you'd died because I wasn't there to help you."

A long moment passed where muted sobbing was the only movement that disturbed the dire scene. Then, as if a switch had been thrown, Lyra stepped forwards and wrapped her forelegs around the crumpled mare, silently holding her close as the lengthening shadows of the evening slowly overwrote the last rays of the sun.

[ Credits roll.

NEXT WEEK ON HARPFLANK AND SWEETS:

“I can’t stand seeing her like this...”

“I AM NO LONGER CONTENT TO LET MY EMPIRE BE SCUTTLED BY A LONE MARE... ”

“What... What is the meaning of this?!”

“She knows who I am.”

TUNE IN FOR THE NEXT EXCITING EPISODE OF... HARPFLANK AND SWEETS ]

Epilogue

Carrot Top was not a tranquil pony. Dedicated, yes. Focused, yes. But tranquil? No.

Not for want of trying, of course. She still kept a garden at the rear of her house and, even now, in her office a quaint Bonsai stood sentinel over the coffee-stained desk and stacks of paperwork. But, no matter how long she stared into those leaves, or how much care she took with her crops, she would never achieve tranquility.

It didn't matter if it was the shrill cry of police sirens, the muted thump of exploding buildings or just the creak of the bones underneath her skin, the fact was that the world was just too loud for her ever to be at peace. In the wake of the day’s gassing, things were even less peaceful than usual, as hard as that was to believe.

Tonight however, the sound that stirred her was but the simple knock of hoof on wood.

Carrot barely looked up from her quarterly crime report before she gave her reply.

"If that isn't an espresso, Lieutenant, I'll expect you to hand in your badge by the morning."

Undaunted by the response, her door opened anyway, admitting a fiery-maned and stone-faced Pegasus into the room. Carrot sighed.

"This had better be important, Miranda."

Lieutenant Rights barely blinked as she delivered her message.

"Chief, there's something outside you need to see."

"Don't tell me Copper arrested the entire Met-U hoofball team again..."

"More serious than that, Ma'am."

Carrot Top closed her eyes and breathed in deep through her nose. It was a meditation technique she'd learned from some Neighponeise monks to help bring her focus. She had tried it many times, but even with monks AND gardens, the world was still too loud.

With the haste of a tortoise, Carrot Top rose from her chair.

"Alright, show me."

Walking through the precinct, it quickly became clear that something was indeed going down outside. Any cop who had not already abandoned their desk was on their way to do so, the steady buzz of confused whispers seeming to act as fuel for the steady migration out of the station's front doors.

The crowd parted at the sight of the Chief, her vibrant orange mane acting like a beacon cutting through fog. The whispers and speculation came to a stop as Carrot broke out the front of the herd, finally stopping on the steps outside the station. Her saliva dried up in her throat as she finally saw what the fuss was about.

Across the road, standing crouched atop a streetlight, was Maredowell.

Her cape hung down around the bulb, casting a ginormous silhouette on the building behind her. The light harshly lit her featureless features from below, making ominous highlights to every outline of her body. In the presence of such a striking figure, passing pedestrians stopped to pull out their cameras and capture the dramatic moment to later brag about with their friends.

In an incredible moment of stillness, the vigilante stared down the entire police department, and the police department did nothing but stare right on back.

Just as it seemed that nopony was even willing to breathe, lest it destroy this fragile standoff, Maredowell illuminated herself with a second glow, gently diffusing from under her hat. The glow coalesced in the shadows, wrapping around a bundle of tattered purple cloth that floated over to rest at the hooves of the immobile police Chief.

Carrot Top looked down, nudging the bundle open even as her eyes widened in shock.

Like a flash of lightning, Maredowell leapt straight up, vanishing into the night before the cops even had time to register her departure.

For a moment, Carrot Top tried breathing through her nose.

"... Oh, to heck with it..."

Carrot Top rounded on the crowd of gawking crime fighters, eyes flashing as she yelled at them.

"Well? What are you standing around for?! Get her inside!"

Her subordinates almost fell over one another in their rush to grab the unconscious pony and clear a path to drag her inside. Carrot turned to Lieutenant Rights, casting such a palpable aura of authority that Miranda could almost feel her uniform clean itself under her piercing gaze.

"... And Lieutenant..."

"Yes, Ma'am?"

"Make sure Miss Trixie has a nice cozy cell waiting for her when she gets there..."

Coming soon: Episode 16 - Great and Powerful!