Awoke IN

by Qwix

Chapters

Prologue: The Dream
Chapter 1: In the Dead of Night
Chapter 2: Into Town
Chapter 3: Representative Bassino
Chapter 4: The Speech
Chapter 5: PINCH
Chapter 6: Thirteen Dine
Chapter 7: Cadance and Crypticism
Chapter 8: Square One
Chapter 9: While It Lasted
Chapter 10: The Pit
Chapter 11: Within the System

Prologue: The Dream

All is aflame, yet he felt no heat.

Where...

Three mountains cleave the sky, yet no clouds are there to honor it.

Why...

His eyes felt heavy, yet his body felt of air. No matter how far they fell, he could not see his own hooves.

What... is this?

Silence ruled here. The flickering flames tugged at the edges of his vision, threatening to engulf him. Yet they made not a single crackle, a single singe—not a single sign at all that they were there beyond what his heavy eyes saw.

I feel... what? Like a picture...

He blinked—as suddenly as the wingbeat of a dragonfly, as fleeting as a wisp of smoke in the wind, sound bloomed from nothing, heat swelled from ahead, and life filled his eyes. He rose them with the sun that peaked over the tallest mountain.

This place... Where am I? I am... Pennaprose. Pennaprose Lochflow? That is... my name?

The words floated by his vision as he thought them, vanishing somewhere into the out-of-sight above him. He tried to follow, seeing the mountains that loomed before him instead. They seemed to swallow the sky around him as he looked. The sun disappeared again, yet its light still shone around them. A glimmer of starlight? The peaks of all three sparkled, beckoning him. Yet he could not walk, for the heat of the flames around him threatened to scorch him if he dared advance.

He blinked—again, the world around him evolved—and the flames died down. Three blades sheared the air, impaling the ground. Sound once more cloaked itself.

One was wickedly curved, yet pure gold and reverent. Where it landed, grass sprung up from nothing, spreading like a virus. It had no hilt, it held no gems, it possessed no edge to speak of. And yet, the sight of it seemed to cut into his eyes, making invisible threats. He looked away.

The second blade was a short sword, elaborately wrought. Its hilt had two curved golden feathers, the blade cut to a diamond-fine point and toned of icy-blue and blood red. The earth around it seemed to halt the grass, sucking the ground dry. The longer he stared, the more he wanted to back away—like the first, its existence seemed to emanate some sort of painful aura.

And lastly, he gazed upon the third, feeling comforted. It felt familiar, almost as if it was crying out for him to take it up. The hilt was curved, like a horseshoe—the blade, thin and silver-white.

Changeré.

The words floated by in his vision, but this time, they did not leave.

I know this blade... I have this blade. In... huh?

He moved forward, attempting to pick up the blade with his magic. As he did, the flames roared back to life twice as strong, Sound once more stepped in, bringing with it a howl of wind and a sting of snow.

One moment the land was green—the next, winter white. Through the flames, he could spot everything around him disappearing. The mountains crumbled one by one, bringing with them a mighty earthquake that rent the earth. The second blade stood resolute in this newfound chaos; as he looked, the flames around him were taken in by it, expanding the aura of pain tenfold.

He flinched and fell over, helpless. The third blade, Changeré, wobbled dangerously before falling over in the din. It got quickly covered in snow.

He tried reaching out a non-existent hoof to help, feeling sad for it. But as he did, the second blade tore from the earth of its own accord and replanted itself between him and Changeré.

He wretched a little. Up close, the painful aura was much worse. He tried looking beyond it, towards the first blade. It had done nothing but sit there, accumulating snow.

The blade before him, moved through the earth without warning, scattering sparks asunder. Where they landed, snow melted along with the grass underneath it. As the flames spread, he saw pieces of the first blade fall off in chunks.

No... this is... a nightmare? Wait! I know this blade too...!

As the thought passed, the name formed before his eyes.

Djiingoh.

The blade stopped, seemingly aware of his thought. It floated away slightly; he got back up and glared at it.

Djiingoh... The blade that has the ability to cleave a windigo in two...

It floated and bounced as if mocking him. He lunged forward in an attempt to contain it—some part of him told him that it was the source of this havok.

It vanished in the blink of an eye. He stopped, confused—the snow had not stopped falling, neither had the flames stopped burning.

Was I wrong? No matter... where is...?

He hunched down and tried to shift the snow around in search of Changeré. It seemed infinite, a hopeless task...

He glanced over at the first blade in desperation. It was in a sad state, yet still somehow the remaining pieces exuded power. He went over to it—oddly, the ground where the fragments had fallen held no snow around it. He perked up and grabbed one with his magic. Simply wielding the piece gave him a feeling of great confidence. Suddenly, all the snow in the world seemed as puddles. He held the fragment low to the ground, melting the snow.

This is a dream, or a nightmare... anything should be possible. So...?

He smiled, or at least felt he did, for he could not feel his mouth. All around him, flowers bloomed from the snowbanks, an absolute array of colors untold. One grew with such vigor that surely it was stronger than steel—stronger than such, as when it came up and clawed the sky, it brought with it Changeré. He dropped the piece in happiness, rushing over to meet it. Changeré seemed so delicate up close... I must guard this from harm... he thought.

He tucked it away, even as the flowers that bloomed began to recede back into the earth. It was like watching a play in reverse. He regarded them fondly as the sun made itself known again. Warmth filled the land again as the grass sprung up, flicking the snow aside.

And yet, the wind remained cold. Sound flickered out once more. His brief happiness drained out, yet he could not figure why. Changeré seemed to shiver on his back. He paused, then tried to turn around. He found once more that he could not.

Fear struck a dart into his thoughts. Why can't I...? What is this? Ice?

His hooves, he noticed, had finally materialized at some point. But they did not come alone—attached to them was a prison of ice, binding him the ground. He felt no cold, but rather a searing fire running up his legs. He tried to hack at them with Changeré, but it did nothing but bounce uselessly off of it. His breathing quickened, becoming shorter and shorter. Why does this dream feel so... real?

"Yes."

The voice, containing no tone or timbre, exuded no warmth of chill, bore no command or plead. It was as a word was made voice and voice alone—and it came from nowhere.

He turned around in a panic, as far as his neck could twist. There floated Djiingoh, wrapped in hate and fear, edged in ice—pointed straight at his back.

He tried to swipe Changeré at it, but it parried with no effort. The clang that should have come did not sound.

Everything froze in place in lockstep. His sight, each blade of grass, the sun itself—all seemed to stand still as Djiingoh poised...

And struck.

Chapter 1: In the Dead of Night

"Penni? What are you doing?"

His eyes snapped open. Reality seemed to slur like watercolors as dreams faded into the past, stitching the fabric of both together. Huh? What...? he thought blearily.

He was standing on an ornate carpet, a fireplace lit before him. It cast a warm glow, but at the same time, he could not help but recall the flames from the dream and shudder. The stone gargoyles or the carved replica of a pair of human hands between them certainly didn't help.

"Penni? You were sleep-walking. Or sleep-dancing or something. Put the quill down, have a bit of hot cocoa..."

He swiveled on the spot, noting the quill he had brandished like a sword within his magic. Behind him, a mint-green unicorn mare he knew as Lyra was there; she had a hoof on his back, wearing a purple robe and holding two steaming cups in her magic.

"Lyra... sorry. I was doing what?" he asked.

She set down his cup on a desk strewn with paper and books. "I woke up because you were making a ruckus in here. Knocking ink bottles over and dancing around the living room like you were fighting something, you know. What's up?"

Pennaprose paused and brushed his messy black-and-blue mane out from his lopsided glasses. "Um... call it a nightmare, I guess. There were these blades..."

He perked up, looking back at the fireplace. Above it, crossed and hung, was two blades—Djiingoh and Changeré. "Those two were in it," he said, gesturing a hoof.

She sighed behind his back. "Those two? Back from when Chrysalis was trying to take over Equestria? That was, like, a month ago, now you're getting flashbacks?"

Pennaprose coughed nervously. He recalled the fights he had to endure with Changeré, a weapon gifted by one of Chrysalis's aides. The aerial battle with Gosthette and the subsequent stint in the hospital while he healed and regrew his fur ended only ten days ago. After that...

"Sorry, Lyra. I know I shouldn't be wrecking your house while I'm—"

"—here for as long as I say? You're going to be waiting long past either of our deaths, Penni."

She jumped into one of the plush chairs, sipping her cocoa calmly. "Sit. Tell me about this dream of yours. After all, dreams are an incredible source of inspiration... maybe you can get something out of it from the speech you were supposed to be working on for the mayor tomorrow?"

He took a glance around the room, orienting himself; lining the room was innumerable shelves of books that stretched to a gothic height ceiling, interrupted by the occasional glowing crystal that was mounted between them. He trotted over and sat in another chair unlike the one Lyra was in, picking up a quill and ink.

"Well... there were these three mountains. They seemed enormous—big enough to swallow the sky!" he began.

She was giving him an odd look over her mug. It was some combination of bemusement and wonder, her eyes unfocused as if in deep thought. He continued.

"I was surrounded by flames. Sound kept flickering in and out. Um... there were actually three blades, besides Changeré and Djiingoh."

"Really now?" she said.

"Yeah... the third one was curved. Actually... its better to describe it like a dragon claw. Huge, no edges... yet just looking at it hurt my eyes! It was powerful..."

"A dragon claw, you say? What happened with these three blades?"

He fell silent, trying to recall the dream. The more he tried, the more they slipped away, like grains of sand.

"...They impaled themselves into the ground before me. An earthquake happened, crumbling the mountains into dust. The flames disappeared, sucked in by Djiingoh... and a snowstorm came from nowhere. There was grass, or something... I—"

"Can't remember all of it?"

"Yeah..."

She leaned over and shoved a hoof into his face, making his glasses fall off. "Um, Ly? What are you doing?"

She ignored him, continuing to let her hoof run over his face. Eventually, she stopped, but in her magic she had stolen his glasses to examine them.

"...Yeah, I have no clue," she said, twirling his glasses around absentmindedly. "You've been chipping away at this speech for the last two days, right? Maybe you just need some actual rest in an actual bed instead of using poetry books as pillows and getting nightmares about swords slicing you to death. I did offer to share my bed, you know—"

"I-I'm fine with the couch, thank you."

She still unnerved him with a knowing smirk as she said her offer. He stowed his quill on the table and took a slow sip of his cocoa.

"You're running a slight fever, by the way. It's all the hard work that's getting to you."

He smiled, thinking of the speech. The mayor had visited him in the last few days of his hospital stay and offered him a position as her personal speech coordinator, due to his impromptu performance before he tried to leave Ponyville the first time.

"I can't help it. The pay is good, to be sure. I get to write for a living, and if it helps you with your monthly budget—"

"Oh, I've managed on commissions for years, anything you make is extra. ...But thanks for doing that. I've felt less stressed since you've moved in," she said, lowering her mug with a wan smile. "Barely making enough to eat every day. Living literally underground. At least I have all these poetry books to pass the time when I don't have work to do."

He smiled in return, picking his quill back up. "That's why I don't feel the extra work. If it helps you relax, then it helps me relax."

She looked over, face as peaceful as can be. "...Well, where else could you have gone, in retrospect? Tirek's rampage destroyed Twilight's old home while you were laid up, so there was no going back there. I got accidentally locked in my diary chamber because of the tremors. Although she has a fabulous new castle now..."

"Castle or no, this place is a palace to me," said Pennaprose, finishing off his cocoa. "It has you and all the books that matter. Like your diary, for instance."

Even in the fire light, he could tell she was blushing. "Hn... I guess so. You've only ever slept in the company of books, now that I think about it."

His eyes unfocused as he recalled the Golden Oaks Library and the old cot he used to sleep in while Twilight had extended her hospitality. "Yeah... that's a lot of books I never got to read. I'm sure Twilight was crushed when it happened..."

"We should pay her a visit!" exclaimed Lyra. "You've been a mole in this place for too long, I swear any longer and you'll make even the dust bunnies your pets."

"Maybe tomorrow, after the speech. She'll be there anyway, it's a major event."

"You know, I've been meaning to ask," said Lyra. "What is that speech about?"

He gave her a sly smirk, jotting something down on a piece of parchment. "Oh ho, you'll see tomorrow. I'm not allowed to show it to anypony save the Mayor. I just need a good conclusion..."

He paused as a detail of his dream tumbled from thin air. "Ah... maybe? Yes..."

The room fell silent, save for the scratching of a quill and the crackle of the fireplace. He scribbled for what seemed several minutes before the clink of a mug on wood made him look up.

"Well, it looks like you found your conclusion. I'm heading back to bed. You'd be smart and do the same if you want to look presentable tomorrow. Er, today rather. Night."

She trotted away, a tired air following her. Just watching her made him sleepy.

She's right, I need actual rest. The mayor said I'll be presenting the end of the speech, so I'll need to be at full function before the event, he thought. Hopefully I won't have anymore nightmares...

He set both quill and parchment down once more, trotting off towards a couch that had a patchwork quilt strewn about it. He jumped on and magiked the thin blanket onto his back, extinguishing the fireplace with a twitch of magically directed water from a can next to the fire. As the embers fizzled, he smiled and quietly thanked his luck as the events of his life since he came to Equestria melded his thoughts into the silk spinnings of the dream world.

His eyelids closed, and he knew no more.

Somewhere aboveground, underneath a new moon...

"It is still elusive."

She put up her lens, letting it retract back into place.

"This is the third case, Mers. First Cadance, then that dream analyst from Las Pegasus. Now Pennaprose. What am I missing here...?"

An earpiece buzzed, letting a staccato of chatter ring through.

"Agent Drops, we have received the data you have sent us and are analyzing it in depth now. Did you manage to capture a visual of the event?"

"Not in definite detail," she replied. "And Mers, call me Bon Bon for once, will you? I'm an ex-agent, you don't have to—"

"Negative, Agent Drops. Once an agent, always an agent. Anyway, what do you mean, 'not in definite detail'?"

Bon Bon, swiped the top of the briefcase that lie before her, revealing a panel. "Something interfered with the drone's camera. The quality of the video is poor, to be nice about it. The audio, on the other hoof..."

She tapped the center of the panel. What amounted to a color-splotched snowstorm appeared on it. Along with it, clearly recorded yells and grunts came through.

"I can't make heads or tails over it. From what I heard, the same sort of unexplained interference hit cameras while the doctor had a nap. Think these three have a connection?"

"A princess, a scientist, a bookworm speech writer. The Crystal Empire, Las Pegasus, Ponyville. One alicorn and two unicorns. On the surface, there isn't much of a convincing connection..."

Bon Bon fell silent. The grunts and yells suddenly died out as the reception cleared. It showed Pennaprose and Lyra in the living room, speaking to each other. She watched as they sipped cocoa together.

"There were no cameras around when this hit Cadance," began Bon Bon. "I'm willing to bet that if there were, we'd have run into the same problem then. But I'm also willing to bet Princess Luna knows—"

"—And won't tell anypony—" interrupted Mers.

"—jack buck about it." She swiped the panel close, packing up the instruments and remotely drawing the drone back. "Now I remember why I left PINCH in the first place. Poor communication skills. Which reminds me: tell agent Vendetta about this. She might know a few whackjobs in Canterlot that could be prime for the next target."

"That's correspondent Vendetta to be correct, Drops. And you say that, yet..."

She paused, brushing her mane out of her eyes. She looked upwards, though there was no trace of the moon. All that shone down were the stars.

"The moon likes hiding itself at times. After that, what are agents but stars to light a lot of nothing?"

The drone buzzed up from the ground and landed squarely at her hooves. She stuffed it in her case and began to trot back off to Ponyville proper.

"Some stars fizzle, others will die in a blaze of glory. But they all pale to the light of a moon that bares the land bright."

Her earpiece buzzed again, this time with a wheezy laughter. "Reciting the old motto, are we? I knew your heart never left us."

"Buck off."

She yanked the earpiece out and unceremoniously jammed it in her case as well. She gave a long sigh and looked back at the concealed entrance to where Lyra's house was.

"These unexplainable dream anomalies. And no explainable connection between the targets. And a new moon on the night before the Summer Sun Festival..."

She sat down and swiped the panel back open, rewinding and pausing the video to a shot of Lyra's face, peaceful as can be.

"Lyra...I envy you some days."

Chapter 2: Into Town

The town square was lively, packed with all sorts of ponies milling about between stalls of fruit and flowers, fireworks and fantastical crafts. In the center, a stage was set up; a select group of ponies was behind the curtain, conversing. But nowhere in the town was a frown to be found, even as Pennaprose peeked out the curtain to see it.

"This brings back memories..." he said wistfully.

Images of the awards ceremony a month ago played in his head. He twitched as he remembered every sour look as he badmouthed the whole crowd, but continued smiling anyway. He ducked back in response to a tap on his shoulder. It was Mayor Mare.

"Pennaprose! Good to see you. I take it your end of the speech is finished?"

He nodded. "Yes, Marilyn. A late-nighter, but I whipped it out. I think you'll be pleased with it."

"Oh, calling me by my real name!" she admonished playfully. "A week and a half in the office and this is the third speech you've done up! I knew it was a good idea to hire you! Although I hope that housing firm you worked for doesn't mind!"

He flinched as he recalled his original cover story for coming to Equestria via meteor impact. "...Yeah, I'm sure they won't mind."

He turned away and trotted over to check to sound systems. A white-coated unicorn he knew as Vinyl was there, poking around inside one of the cases.

"Hey, Vinyl. You aren't trying to crank the speakers again, are you?"

She rolled out from underneath it, covered in dust and oil. "Nah. The correct term is 'blasting'. Cranking means I get wasted first."

"We're giving a speech, not a rock concert. And the correct term is 'getting crunk'. Knock it off," he said.

She rolled her eyes. "Fiiiiine, whatever. Hey," she said excitedly. "After this, wanna get a few drinks? I know this one place that's really—"

"Thanks, but no thanks. I don't drink. ...And you were going to say Berry's house, weren't you?"

She laughed uproariously, a giant grin plastered on her face. "Yep! Y'know, even if you haven't been living in this town that long, you've fit right in."

"That's the fifth time this week you've asked me to go out drinking, Vinyl," said Pennaprose. "I doubt I've gotten the hang of this town yet—it's just you that's easy to figure out. In fact—" he added, sniffing, "—you've been drinking already, haven't you?"

"Just a glass of wine in the morning. You're not my mom!" she retorted.

She ducked back into the box, sending a few sparks flying out. He passed her, noting a few muffled expletives mixed in with the sparks, saying nothing more.

Pennaprose gave out a big sigh, reciting key points in his head. Wish I finished this a day ago. Three hours is hardly enough time to practice.

He stooped next to a pile of crates, reading over a few flash cards Lyra had borrowed three days ago. That's another thing I need to—

"Penni! There you are, I've been looking all over for you!"

He looked up, dropping his flash cards in surprise. Before him, a purple alicorn holding several stacks of books in her magic stood before him. "Hi, Twilight. How have you been?"

"I haven't seen you around town lately! Most ponies I asked just assumed you've dropped of the face of Equestria," she said, putting the books down. "I was a little worried you weren't going to show up, but I got it from the Mayor you were working on a speech?"

"To a tee, yes," he responded. "I wrote the Mayor's half of the joint speech within a day of her giving me the prompt, but I've been struggling to key up my half. Well, I say my half, but it's really only a paragraph. Or five."

"So that's why you've been invisible for a week? Being a mole while you write a single paragraph?"

He looked away determinedly. "...Yes... but I should thank you for the flash cards. I didn't have any, and apparently Lyra asked to borrow some from you?"

"Yeah, she showed up at the castle three days ago—said something about wanting to help you organize your speech—then took off after I lent her some cards. ...How are you two doing at her house? Where is it?"

"She'd rather not say, and she'd rather not anyone know. In her own words... 'poets are as wistful as a dream's thread, heedless as nightmares, and require silence beyond the falling of a single thread hitting the ground.' ...So needless to say, our sleep schedules are often flip-flopped. I'm a night owl, reading or fiddling with writing, while she's a daytime tiger—she likes to pounce on disturbances when she works."

Twilight looked bewildered for a second, but shook her head and continued. "Anyway... about the speech. There are five representatives and five vice-representatives, one for each of the largest pony settlements in Equestria. As it so happens, I'm Ponyville's representative. As I'm not the one actually doing the speaking... come with me! You need to meet the other representatives!"

She tugged his glasses off his face with her magic, giggling. "Catch me if you can!"

He stumbled to his feet, tripping over his flashcards. Twilight had already made twenty paces by the time he got up; he snorted in frustration as he collected his cards and chased after the purple blur in his vision.

"Not fair!" he cried after her. "I can't see anything without those!"

He swirled around moving splotches of color, ducking and dodging beams as best as he could. "Twilight! Get back here!"

A sudden block of white cut him off, making him screech to a halt. He did not stop fast enough, however—he ran muzzle first into something soft and squishy and fell over.

"S-sorry," he said instinctively. "Did you see where a purple alicorn went? She stole my glasses and I—"

"Here."

The voice that answered was terse, but not without warmth. Suddenly, he felt a familiar pressure on his face and his vision cleared. Before him was an unusually tall unicorn in white lab coat that dragged like a blanket. His mane was trimmed to a fine, razor point at his temple and split cleanly down the middle with white and red while his coat was a dark forest shade of green; his facial features, unforgivingly cut to a crystalline edge. Yet no matter how severe his appearance seemed, his voice was unmistakably soft and forgiving.

"The alicorn you spoke of is Twilight Sparkle, representative of this town, correct?"

He stood up, brushing his mane back into place. "Y-yes," he said, adjusting his glasses. "Wait, how did you—"

"Undoubtedly, she has not yet noticed I observed the whole incident and swapped your glasses for a fake pair without her noticing. Heheh..."

He stared. Eventually, he noticed and stared back. "Er, sorry? Did I say something wrong?"

"No," he replied. "What is your name?"

He blinked and lifted a hoof from underneath his coat. A badge was pinned there, yet he kept his hoof covering a part of it.

_____________∆____________

|° Bassino Verifik Azion °|

|REPRESENTATIVE of |

"A representative?" he asked.

"Yes. I will be keeping it a surprise of who I am a representative of until the meeting," he said, letting the coat fall back into place. "It is unimportant that you know now anyway. For you will soon."

Bassino turned around, trotting away—as Pennaprose blinked, he was gone. Nopony around seemed to notice as they were running about, setting up the stage's final touches.

Nopony at all.

Chapter 3: Representative Bassino

He touched a hoof to his glasses, confused. That was strange. I didn't even get the chance to—

"Thank Celestia, there you are!"

He felt a sudden tug at his tail; twisting his neck around, he saw that Twilight has reappeared and elected to drag him by his tail. "We're late for the meeting! All of the other princesses are already in attendance, move it!"

He scrambled upright, letting Twilight drag him along. Shuffling through his cards, he noticed one was missing—the very last one. He panicked slightly as he tried to recall the contents.

Without warning, the dragging suddenly stopped and he rolled back onto Twilight, flipping up and over.

"Charming," came a voice from somewhere above him. He rubbed his neck as he looked as far up as he could through his own tail. A familiar blue mane danced in the wind.

"Princess Luna? You're here?"

Before she could answer, he felt another tug at his tail as he was drug a fair few feet and stood upright by Twilight's magic. He adjusted his glasses once more, noting that Luna seemed to be giggling to herself. By her side was another two alicorns that he didn't recognize; one was white and had a similarly flowing pale rainbow mane while the other was candy-pink with a static mane of vibrant assorted colors.

"Hello, Princess Twilight. It's been a while, hasn't it?" said the white one. "Cadance tells me that you two have been writing each other nonstop!"

"She kept going on and on about a certain somepony—" said who he presumed was Cadance. She was giving him a significant glance. "—who wear glasses and writes a lot and showed up by making a crater by a river. If the entrance was any indication..."

"He is not my coltfriend," asserted Twilight. "Yes, I let him stay at my old house for a while. And he saved my life from a coma-inducing cupcake three times my size once. And a dip in a frozen lake. ...And maybe an out-of-control crane once. And helped beat Chrysalis before she tried to take over Equestria again—"

"For somepony that isn't important to you, you sure are singing a lot of praise, Twilight," said Cadance.

Next to him, he could almost feel the heat of embarrassment radiating from her fur. "No, I really am not her coltfriend," said Pennaprose. "Um... Princess Cadance, right?"

"Yes, but lay the formalities dead. Call me Cadance."

"All right then. Cadance it is."

The white alicorn coughed. "I apologize, but your name is Pennaprose Lochflow, correct?"

His ears perked up. "Yes, I am."

She gave a slight bow. Beside him, Twilight gasped and hit the back of hit head, knocking his glasses off and acquainting him with the taste of dirt. His ears remained aboveground, as Twilight hissed, "That's Princess Celestia! Show some respect!"

He dug out his face, glancing around for his glasses for what felt like the third time today. Celestia tittered.

"As Cadance said, Twilight, forget the formalities for now," she said, looking directly at him. "I haven't had the chance to take some time to come to Ponyville since the hive reemergence incident, so I haven't gotten to properly thank you for removing the danger before it got too far. Luna saw it ahead of time, but when she did, I was already under Chrysalis's influence."

She gave a minor aside glance to a stallion he recognized as Shining Armor who was standing behind Cadance. "As noble as your efforts were, Shining... you still lost the trophy to this colt," she said in a warm, yet mocking tone. "I daresay your position is looking a little less stable."

Shining nervously laughed and tugged at the collar of his golden armor. He noted with a start that there were even more faces in the circle, each standing behind a different representative. Luna behind Celestia, Shining behind Cadance... but there was also a monocle-wearing unicorn in fancy clothing looking around nervously and standing a little ways away, much to his surprise...

"Gosthette? Is that you? Where have you been!" he asked.

He trotted up to a midnight blue pegasus, taller than most, who wore a sultry expression framed by an orange and white mane that he remembered.

"Eh? Pennaprose? That you?" she said as she turned to greet him. "How's it been?"

"I'd ask you that. After the first day out of the hospital, I heard you vanished," he countered. "Why though?"

She pouted and flapped her wings in an annoyed fashion. "Ponyville is just far too happy of a place for me to live right now. If I set up a house somewhere it would have to be in the Everfree Forest; with black magic and who cares whatever else! So I wandered around and eventually found Manehattan. It's no swamp, but it at least smells like one and no one bothers being friendly. Just my style."

He regarded her, trying to recall what she was like when he last saw her about a month ago. "You seem a lot nicer now. But if I'm understanding this right... you're a representative?"

"Vice-rep. Of Manehattan, obviously. The mad hatter Manehattan rep just disappeared somewhere without my seeing it."

"An ex-assassin, losing sight of her target? You're slipping, Goss," he chided.

She scowled at him, a much closer resemblance to his memory. "If you were any other pony right now, I'd be tempted to air drop you from five miles high."

He smiled. "I know. But nice seeing you again, Gosthette."

"Speaking of which—" interjected Twilight. "—how'd you get your glasses back? I thought I... hold on, where'd I put them?"

"The fake pair is in your left saddlebag, containing two screws, a microchip, eight megapixel camera, geo-pony locator, and was polished approximately two days, thirteen hours, fourty-eight minutes, and seven seconds ago. Oh, and a cherry bubblegum lollipop, if you want it."

As one, Twilight and Gosthette turned around. Behind them—somehow without Pennaprose noticing, despite his height—was Bassino.

"Excuse me? Who are you?" asked Twilight. "...and why—"

"I am Bassino Verrifik Azion, representative of Manehattan and vice representative of Las Pegasus. Head chairpony of the Foundation of Equestrian Science and Technology. A pleasure to meet the princesses of Equestria all in one place—" he said, taking a slight bow. "—but I'm sorry for disappearing like that! It's a horrible habit of mine."

He stared. The other princesses looked similarly shocked at his sudden appearance, despite being in the very center of the group. The monocle-wearing unicorn spoke up first. "Bassino, really! This is a business venture, not a picnic! Lollipops later!"

"Apologies, Fancy Pants," said Bassino. "But I already gave everypony one. In Cadance's mane, behind Luna's left ear, Celestia's right, Shining Armor's collar, up your—"

"Oh for the love of... fine!" sighed Fancy Pants. "Just get back over here...!"

He trotted over, letting his lab coat drag on the ground and giving him the appearance of gliding. He stood between Gosthette and Fancy Pants, looking rather nonplussed.

"Excuse me," asked Twilight. "But did you say you are both a representative and a vice representative? How—"

"Dear princess, Bassino's position as head chairpony of the FEST means he has a major hoof in the mega-rail program we are here to speak about to the residents of Ponyville," began Fancy Pants. "FEST was handed the responsibility of designing the rail system. As it will inevitably connect all five major settlements in a continuous and multi-track loop, it is his responsibility to speak for FEST. ...Of course, it is based in Manehattan. But Bassino also lives in Las Pegasus and works under me in a consultant position. I chose him to vice-represent."

"It will help speed things along," interjected Celestia. "As he has direct control of the project plus representing two of the five locations, well..."

Twilight nodded. "I see! Well then, I'm sorry for the affront, Bassino! I hope we can work well together!"

She extended a hoof and bowed. Bassino stared, tilting his head in confusion. "You did not affront, Princess. You were merely without the proper information pertaining to the subject, thus holding no blame in relation to it. If anything, I should apologize for much graver insult of giving you a cherry bubblegum instead of a raspberry one. I have heard it is your favorite?"

She looked up, equally confused. "What? How—?"

"Is it a graver affront? Or how did I know? On both counts, I have my sources and reasons," he said, bowing lower. "That reminds me... Miss Luna, I have need to speak to you about a separate matter after the ceremony, if it behooves you?"

She perked up, sharing in the confusion. "O-of course! But what—huh?"

When all eyes were on her, they turned back to Bassino. Or at least, where he was sitting. Gosthette put a hoof to her temple while Fancy Pants made a sound of exasperation.

"Damn that stallion!" he exclaimed. "He simply exists and disappears on a whim! A nightmare to hold accountable! How that buffoon holds a head chair position anywhere is beyond me...! Well, I best go and try to find him. E-excuse me, princesses."

Fancy stormed off back towards the stage, which was gathering a large crowd by now. A general murmur of curiosity was riding in the wind.

"Well," said Luna. "I had met him on separate occasions, but that was a little over a year ago. He wasn't so... odd as I remember."

"Needless to say, he was the one originally in charge of designing the current rail system," said Cadance. "I trust him."

She walked off in the direction of the stage. A crackling of the mike and Mayor Mare's voice rang into the air. They were a little too far to make out the exact words, but judging from the tone, Pennaprose guessed she was beginning to give her half of the speech.

He shuffled his cards back into order hurriedly. "Sorry, gotta go! See you after the ceremony, Twilight!"

He galloped off as she waved him off. Let's see here... okay, that point first, mention the reps, a little of this...

I can do this, he thought shakily. Just another speech. Breathe IN, breath out... "Hueck—!" Okay, maybe try not choking on your spit, Penni, that's a dumb thing to do. Phew...

He stuttered to a stop behind the curtain, shuffling through the cards and trying to catch his breath.

"Haven't been able to practice your bit for the audience, have you now?"

He looked up. Inexplicably, there was Bassino, calm as can be and looking at his cards curiously.

"I, uh..."

"No matter. From the looks of it, there isn't a terrible amount to memorize. But that is lazy of you? Have you not had this done for weeks now?"

"Eheheh..." said Pennaprose. "Not really. I wrote the Mayor's speech in the same day I got the assignment around a week ago, but I've been struggling to write a conclusion for me to present since. I managed to get a dream just last night that provided me with the last push I need to write it."

"Writing about a dream you say...?"

His gaze sharpened to a hawk-like preciseness; both of his pale silver eyes were fixed firmly on him. Another thing he noticed was that he was wearing frameless glasses with lenses so thin and immaculately polished that had a bit of sunlight not been reflecting off of one, he would not have seen them.

He hesitated a moment, unsure of what to say. Eventually, Bassino looked away at a rise in the crowd noise. "Ah ha. I believe that is your cue. Break your legs out there."

He glanced in panic at the curtain, then back. Bassino has managed to vanish into thin air again.

"As fleeting as a dream himself..."

He paused. The ever familiar feeling of words unbidden hit him, causing him to glance at his Cutie Mark: a pair of crossed quills. He thought he felt an electric tingle there.

Again and again, there are times when I speak without thinking, yet it feels exactly the right thing to say. I must ask Twilight more about the magic of Cutie Marks later...

He twisted his neck back, flipping through his note cards as he had.

It doesn't matter now, he thought. Time to do what I do best.

He stepped out onto the stage.

Chapter 4: The Speech

The sea of faces stretched before him, both a familiar sight and a foreign one. At the sight, however, his breathing finally calmed and his flashcards may have been the hilt of his sword. The roiling wave of the sound from the crowd peaked as strode onstage. Despite the undeniable lump in his throat, he felt emboldened as he walked towards the podium where Mayor Mare was waiting expectantly.

He took to the stand, sending scattered cheers into the air. "Knock 'em out!" Mayor Mare whispered.

He set his flashcards before him, noting Lyra's face in the crowd near the back. He smiled and opened his mouth.

"Hello, fellow Ponyvillians! It is wonderful to be here today of all days, when we are about to reach the cusp of history in the making..."

He paused as the cheers rose. The crowd had expanded as a fleet of pegasai took to the sky; the sun patched out in places, turning the stage into a bustling pool of shadowed movement. He continued.

"For what I am told has been many years, the train line that connects Ponyville with the rest of Equestria has faithfully run to many places; from the heart of Canterlot to the east-side charm of Manehattan—the honest western strength of Las Pegasus and yes, even the purest snowy northern reaches of the Crystal Empire. Ponies of all walks of life and kinds have traveled safely and reliably to Ponyville from these metropolises... but Ponyville itself has been the center for all of Equestria to pass through. Ask any resident in Equestria and they'll have a story to tell or two of our town.

"But a single vision has arisen among the head voices of these major settlements. All trails lead to Ponyville, our little town of destiny... but unless one could fly, traveling from Canterlot directly to Las Pegasus takes much time, a stop in Ponyville and other smaller settlements included. To top this off, the current trains run on trusted coal power and take many hours to make the trip, even from Ponyville.

"But! Over the years, the pegasai of Cloudsdale have been attempting to harness lightning as a potential energy source—with their hard-won research combined with the intricacies of unicorn magic is before us today. A recent technological breakthrough rose; a harmonious chord of magic and science sounded sweet melodies of the future. Under the supervision of the Foundation of Equestrian Science and Technology, a beautiful spell that entwines the raw forces of electricity of magic into a single, easily manipulated force was borne. This was the catalyst that provided the final spark of a burgeoning revolution across Equestria.

"So we move forward with an initiative. Among the many uses for this wonder energy, a project with grand proportions and ambitious gains is with us today as the first application; a bullet train mega-rail that connects all five of Equestria's largest settlements, capable of reaching speeds of nearly quadruple current train models. One could travel directly from Manehattan to Las Pegasus to Canterlot and back in a single day without delay; even Dash would be hard pressed to keep up."

A single shout of protest from the sky came amongst the titter of laugher from the crowd below. He smirked and continued.

"For those with family in big cities across the land, it won't take a day and a half to get to where you need to go, just to see family. A good cousin could be a lunch break away, and your back in time for work tomorrow. Convenience, our greatest advantage; speed, our greatest ally.

"This new train requires a completely different kind of track to function, hence the need to build. The current tracks will remain in service while construction is ongoing, but on it's opening day, the old train system will be shut down.

"It will be fast! It will be affordable! And by the end of the day, it will begin. This mega-rail will connect all five cities in a loose five-pointed star formation, with an outer circle available for shorter routes. I would like to acknowledge the representatives and vice representatives of all five cities for convening over the last several weeks in order to make this dream a reality."

He paused again, looking over at stage right.

"Princess Cadance and Prince Shining Armor of the Crystal Empire, who generously pledged natural resources to help construct it!"

The two of them sauntered out onto the stage, giving a royal wave of acknowledgement. They stood by the podium amidst hearty cheering and clapping.

"Next, Princess Luna and Princess Celestia, who rallied the wealthy of Canterlot to help fund this endeavor!"

Both princesses came out from the other side, close to each other. As they sat down and followed Cadance's example, the crowd cheered ever harder.

"Third, a thanks goes out to Fancy Pants of Las Pegasus! Because of his lobbying and shrewd business dealings, additional material support and labor have been pledged to make this dream a reality that much faster!"

Fancy Pants walked up and took a seat beside Shining Armor, giving a slight bow in the process. Unlike the royalty, his was met with a polite round of applause.

"Of Manehattan's support, the Foundation of Equestrian Science and Technology is of special importance. The head chairpony of FEST, our representative of Manehattan in addition to vice-representing Las Pegasus, had agreed to design and oversee the construction of this mega-rail, which begins today after the ceremonies. Representing Manehattan, please give a warm welcome to Bassino Verrifik Azion and Gosthette Bayotharja Shyling!"

A considerably louder round of applause sounded as they walked on stage, sitting on Luna's right. Pennaprose suspected Gosthette's appearance had something to do with it.

"And lastly, our very own Twilight Sparkle and Mayor Mare are her with us to represent Ponyville among this coalition of the greatest leaders of greater Equestria! Twilight has been working late nights—as I'm told, or else we'd all just suspect she was reading for fun at the loss of her midnight oil again—in coordinating every possible aspect of this grand project. We all owe her a debt!"

Lastly, Twilight walked on from stage left and took a seat next to Fancy Pants. He caught a dirty look from her before she did, however.

"Yes, a debt... indeed."

He flipped over his flashcards, laying them facedown. He had no use for them for what he was about to say.

"But I speak now, not as a citizen of Ponyville, but as a pony of Equestria. I, who was once human, have gotten the chance to live in peace in this admittedly strange and beautiful world. Every time I wake up from a dream, I feel as if I have fallen into another... a dream where peace is a reality and not just a word. Swords need not be crossed in this time of commerce; only boundaries of age, skill, and gender alike.

"What keeps us hoping for a better future? What keeps us thinking that tomorrow, we may succeed at something that one day past, we did not?"

The crowd had grown silent, all eyes filled with excitement. He stole a side glance and noticed that everypony on the stage except Gosthette had craned their neck to watch him.

"This project, which has garnered the nickname of Project SUNFEST in honor of tonight being the Summer Sun Festival and FEST's contribution, was built on dreams. One day, somepony had a dream. Maybe in the realm of sleep or the reality of waking thought, but they acted on it. It spread like a virus, picking up speed, striking up deals.

"Together we make dreams a reality. As magic and science continue to coexist harmoniously in today's culture, I stand before you today as a result of both working together. A dream made real, a wish come true; for you all, and for me. For... dreams are the lifeblood of inspiration and progress. Lest the world descend into a nightmare without them... as we have gathered here to bear witness to such. Thank you."

A final, thunderous roar of cheering and applause blasted throughout the square. Pennaprose felt as if a tidal wave of sound had risen before him and threatened to crash down with the force of, well, a train.

He felt a hoof on his shoulder. It was Gosthette, her expression was one of boredom, yet in her eyes he could find a familiar spark of worry.

"Problem, Gosthette?" he asked.

She gave the slightest of nods without a change of expression. "There is much catching up we need to do, Pennaprose. Find me near the edge of the forest. Bring Lyra with you, too."

She flew off before he could say anything. Another hoof on his other shoulder alerted him. This time it was Twilight.

"Not the best I've heard from you, but it was still pretty good!" she said. "And for your information, I only used up ninety percent of my oil on coordinating SUNFEST."

"While the last ten percent went towards re-reading Daring Do books, I bet," said Pennaprose. "Hey, I winged the second half anyway."

"You've wung... wanged? Wunged? Well, you've done better in worse conditions, frankly," commented Twilight. "What are you doing afterwords? The festival doesn't really kick into high gear until tonight. ...You're used to being up all night anyway, aren't you?"

"Said the bookworm to another bookworm," returned Pennaprose. "But yeah, I might want to catch a nap before the festival starts if I want to be awake for it. Oh! That reminds me."

"What is it?"

"Lyra was asking if the two of us could drop by the castle later tonight. According to her, I need to get more fresh air in my face. And, well... we kinda missed the excitement when Tirek ran through. I've hardly had the chance to see the interior of your new castle."

Twilight's face lit up. "Oh, of course! Actually, with all the princesses of Equestria in Ponyville tonight, I was hoping to get a small party of sorts together anyway! Pinkie is off somewhere gathering materials, Rarity is dressing up the castle due to the high profiles that will be there, and AJ's making a special order batch of cider. Fluttershy and Dash can't be there, unfortunately; they said something about the castle's table map sending them to the far edge of the forest. You two are invited, of course! Oh, and Gosthette too, if she's not too busy being a grump somewhere in the forest."

He beamed. "A rare opportunity, is it? How often are the princesses of Equestria all in one place?"

"Almost never! Well, unless there's another Tirek, at least," said Twilight, spinning on the spot in excitement. "I invited all the representatives as a sign of good will, of course. My castle, 8 o'clock!"

She trotted off with a spring in her step. He watched her go, feeling rather elated, but it dipped into terror almost immediately. ...Shit. I have absolutely nothing to wear to a high-class party of royalty and business leaders.

He paced back and forth, trying to think clearly. Okay, okay... uh, what to do... ah! Rarity said she needed a model for stallion suits once, didn't she? Even if she already got a ponnequin from Manehattan since her asking me, it wouldn't hurt to ask.

"Penni? Everypony's already leaving, why are you still pacing up here?"

He looked up. Lyra had somehow gotten in front of him without noticing. "I swear, the second you start thinking about something, everything else just stops existing for you, doesn't it?"

He gave her an awkward smile. "Em... a bit? But before I forget, about tonight Ly..."

He told her about all the things that just transpired. She nodded in understanding. "Gosthette, then a suit for a fancy party? Then you want to squeeze in a nap in between now and 8PM so you can stay up for the Summer Sun Festival?"

"Exactly. Twilight's invited both of us and Gosthette if she wants to come."

She raised a hoof to her mouth playfully. "I see... well then, all this means is that we should probably take care of everything as soon as possible! Let's get you the suit first, we can drop it off at home before talking to Gosthette. You said she said she would be waiting at the edge of the forest? Maybe we'll see her hanging around home anyway."

She trotted off purposefully, leading the way. He galloped to keep up, smiling again.

It's gonna be a busy day indeed...

Chapter 5: PINCH

"I think I would have preferred the orange tie, honestly—"

"Nonsense. I've already had a dress lined up, this mint green one goes with my mane."

"But I like orange."

Lyra and Pennaprose were walking along a path to the edge of the Everfree Forest, where Lyra's house was. She scoffed. "Don't let Applejack hear you say that."

"But she's orange anyway!" said Pennaprose. "She's an orange apple! Wait, does she have a twin?"

Lyra looked confused as she bent down to find the buried handle to the door. "Why would that even matter?"

"Because then there would be a pair of orange apples!" said Pennaprose. "Kumquat!"

As the concealed door popped open, she froze and planted a hoof in her face. "...Really? Really?"

"What?" he said, entering the staircase with the black suit. "Wordplay."

"Smartass."

He looked up at the new voice; it was Gosthette, perched precariously on the door's top edge. "That wasn't wordplay, that was just bad. ...Anyway. Get in, quick. Better to speak somewhere we can't be easily overheard..."

He ducked as Gosthette rose into the air again and flew like a dart into the stairway down. He followed suit with his suit while Lyra tailed closely behind.

The stony corridor, lit with softly glowing multi-colored crystals, lapsed in silence save for two pairs of hoofbeats and the faint echo of something scrapping the ground ahead.

They emerged into the living room; the chairs and writing table had been moved aside. Gosthette was bending over the fireplace; in seconds, it lit, casting her shadow on him and Lyra.

"Pennaprose."

Gosthette sounded neither happy nor sad. She turned around; even if the fire hadn't cast her face in shadow, he could tell her intentions. "Gosthette," he replied tonelessly. There was an unspoken tension between them, tugging the air into thin threads.

She shook her head. "It has been a while, hasn't it?"

"Cut the small talk, Goss. You have news, and judging from your desire for secrecy..." stated Pennaprose. "It is something worrying."

She sneered. "You are correct. What I am about to say should not be repeated to anypony except for a choice few. I didn't want to involve you in it, but the events of last night have overturned my will."

"As mystic as ever, are you?" joked Lyra. "Just as I remember."

Gosthette grimaced, her teeth gleaming in the reflected light. "I will cut to the chase, then. Pennaprose... last night. You had a decidedly odd dream, didn't you?"

He felt the base of his mane stand on end; the familiar unpleasantly electric feeling of suspense that comes with being exposed. "...What does it matter if you did?"

She smiled and dropped onto the carpet, letting her wings unfold. "Well then... you can come out now."

A rope dropped beside her; from it, a cream-colored mare in a black trench coat dropped from the gothic ceiling. Lyra jumped. "B-Bon Bon? What are you doing here? ...And how the—?!"

"Once an agent, Lyra," said Bon Bon. "Don't you remember? I told you I was an ex-agent. The thing is that the skills never left me."

"B-but... in my house!?" protested Lyra. "What in the name of hell—"

Gosthette flapped her wings in irritation, sending embers from the fireplace into the air. "We are facing a potential attack from the shadows, you two. I would suggest keeping quiet."

Lyra cowed. Pennaprose put a hoof around her and pulled her in, glaring at Gosthette.

She sighed before continuing. "I recall that Luna once told you that she heads an organization called PINCH, correct?"

"Yes," said Pennaprose. "The Pony Intelligence Northern Chapter. Are you implying...?"

"Agent Drops and I are connected to PINCH," began Gosthette. "She is an ex-agent that has come out of retirement temporarily due to her personal connections... while I—"

"—broke into headquarters on a whim without knowing what PINCH was. Thus securing her position in PINCH," finished Bon Bon. "We have been assigned to a case that is deeply troubling Luna—"

"—as it is related to anomalies within the dream realm," ended Gosthette. "You are the third case, Pennaprose."

"Of what?" he asked. "Lyra might have caught me dream-walking last night, but—"

"It goes beyond that," interrupted Gosthette. "According to Luna, all dream activity is within her control at all times. She can enter, alter, or change the sleeping dreams of others at her leisure, even communicate to individuals in their sleep and connect two separate dreams. But two weeks ago, something happened. Princess Cadance was reported to be sleep-walking in her castle within the Crystal Empire, in addition to talking to some sort of apparition during the event. Luna says that the timing coincides with a disturbance in the dream realm."

She reached behind her back, pulling out a scroll. "This is a transcript of the dream as she describes it. Does any of it's contents seem familiar to you?"

He took the scroll, unfurling it with his magic. As he read down the page, the hairs on his back rose.

"...Almost exactly. Three mountains, fire and ice, it's all there. The only difference is the third blade."

He looked at the mantle where Changeré and Djiingoh were perched. "She describes the dragon claw blade and Djiingoh existing. Yet the third, Changeré... she makes no mention of it."

Bon Bon looked surprised. "Interesting. The transcribe of the second case—of a dream analyst in Las Pegasus—describes much of the same dream. The only difference was that the blade known as Djiingoh was not seen in that dream. We were predicting that in yours, the dragon claw would be missing."

"That aside," said Gosthette. "In the second and third cases Luna managed to stake out the offending dreams as they began. She describes it as the dreams being locked by some sort of unknown magic; a celestial offense, if some other being was interfering with her work."

"So you think there is some sort of outside force interfering with dreams?" asked Pennaprose. "But what good would it do for the source to give three unrelated ponies essentially the same dream?"

"That I cannot answer with certainty..." mused Gosthette. "But the key word here is hostile. Camera operations near the physical site of the dreamer suddenly loose all connection, going irredeemably fuzzy. The dream itself is confusing and seemingly aimless. But Luna says that such dreams are the hallmarks of a vision or prophecy.

"The only thing being is the question of what prophecy would show itself to more than one pony over the course of two weeks in bizarrely different locations. There is no indication of who may or may not be the next target, and no way to explain the event."

She got up again, starting to pace. "The gala at Twilight's castle will be an opportunity for all three afflicted to be in one place—"

"Sorry, come again?" interjected Pennaprose. "You never said who the other dreamer was."

"Oh, sorry," said Gosthette. "But you have already met him. His name is Bassino Azion."

For the third time, an electric shock ran up his spine, causing him to twitch involuntarily. An image of his face appeared in his mind, then vanished as easily as he knew he could do. "...The head of FEST?"

"Correct," answered Bon Bon. "Somewhat strangely, he is a noted insomniac that refuses to take medication for it. He semi-frequently takes ten minute naps over the course of a day, but since he developed it about a year ago, he hasn't slept for any more than an hour.

"Needless to say, his health should be non-existent. But somehow, he has turned his weakness into a strength; he has strong workaholic tendencies and his psych evaluation suggests an IQ of 160 paired with a perception of time bordering on frighteningly accurate. His workplace where he spends almost all of his time contains no clocks, yet he has not missed a single meeting, deadline, or social event by anymore than a half-second to the stated gathering time in the last eight months. And not a second sooner than it, either.

"He likes writing papers; his home is littered with enough medical and academic documents writ by his own hoof to fill up an entire library. He lets nopony read them, however. ...Or rather, nopony can read them. They're written in a language not found in our database."

His ears perked up at the last detail. "A writer, huh? Of a different bent, but still, anypony who writes that much couldn't be malicious. Not enough time to be evil. Do you have a sample, perhaps?"

Bon Bon pulled out a piece of paper from one of her pockets. "Here. Maybe you can make sense of it."

He took it. The font was jagged, the letters definitely English, but arranged in strange ways. "Uto karika, Ischa'har, maet un uto hvaer. il-Famavra vin..." he spoke aloud. Beneath it was a cryptic sequence of symbols.

"As I said, we can't translate it. Istallion, Prench, Sponish, Japonyse... nothing works," sighed Bon Bon. "The closest we got was with Saddle Arabian. And it still spat out nonsense."

He gave the sheet back to Bon Bon, who tucked it back into her pocket.

"One question," said Pennaprose. "Why tell both of us this...?"

Gosthette stopped pacing, looking surprised. "Well, isn't it obvious? This directly involves you, Pennaprose. At Twilight's miniature gala will be the only chance for all three off the afflicted to be in the same place. We have already contacted Cadance about it and she will be expecting you to strike up a conversation about it, preferably when there isn't any other ears around. She returns to the Crystal Empire tomorrow to begin paperwork related to the exporting of the raw materials for SUNFEST, so this will be your only opportunity for a long while, as royalty is notoriously hard to speak directly too."

"And Bassino?" he asked.

"I am lucky enough to be interning under him, something that PINCH fixed behind the scenes. Even if he is infamously hard to keep an eye on, being his intern gives me a cast-iron excuse to tail him. Luna thinks that his insomnia may have a factor into this situation. If I find anything, you will get a message in your glasses."

He blanked in confusion. "Sorry, explain that last part? What about my glasses?"

"Bon, if you please..." said Gosthette lazily.

Bon Bon tapped her collar in response. Without warning, Pennaprose's glasses vibrated somewhat violently and fell off. "What the?"

"Luna visited you while you were in the hospital and presented you with that pair as a gift, didn't she?" said Bon Bon. "At the time, PINCH determined that you were an individual worth tracking. The pair she gave you has a locater, zooming capability, extendable headset and transmitter, built-in translator, camera, thought-to-word processor, and a four gigabyte storage. The arms also contain biomedical sensors and the whole thing can be power by either magic or electricity."

As she was listing off each feature, he put the glasses back on. Suddenly, many lights danced in his vision, including what appeared to be a piece of paper made of light. What is this even? he thought. As he did, the words appeared on the paper.

"You have activated the second-to-last feature," explained Bon Bon. "With it, you can write documents with your thoughts. Manipulating every application on it is done with thought as well. Think record and blink twice to activate the recorder, take and two blinks for the camera, write for writing, zoom for zooming, and so on."

Hm... off, he thought, blinking twice.

The boxes and digital paper vanished. "Does it come with lasers, by chance?"

Gosthette rolled her eyes. "Nope. It's supposed to be an information collecting device, not a weapon. But now that you know... the message will pop up in the right side of your vision when or if I send you one."

He nodded. "Anything else?"

"That is the end of the briefing," said Gosthette. "Lyra, any questions?"

She looked a little sucker-punched. "N-no... aside from what I'm supposed to be doing with this information."

Bon Bon walked over and put a hoof on her shoulder. "Lyra, I have a bad feeling about all of this. You might get dragged into it just because of Pennaprose's involvement in it. So both Gosthette and I agreed you had the right to know."

She brushed Bon Bon's hoof off, wearing a mixed expression of confusion and pain. "Please don't tell me that this means we're going to get dragged into another war."

Gosthette walked over. "We never said war, Lyra. Put it out of your mind for now. There is a party of sorts that we're invited to, are we not?"

Pennaprose put his neck around her back, pulling Lyra into a tight hug. "It's all right, Ly. We've overcome worse."

She returned the hug. "I know... that's what scares me."

Chapter 6: Thirteen Dine

The sight of a crystalline castle scraping the sky rose before Pennaprose and Lyra as they approached. Lyra was wearing a silky, laced black dress that was pinned with an amber, gold, and jade brooch on the left side of her chest while Pennaprose's black suit matched with a vibrant green tie and white trim. Lyra wore a calm, pleased expression while Pennaprose was experimenting with his glasses.

He watched as his thoughts were transcribed into his vision with great interest. I can write on the fly with this. Any idea cannot possibly be lost.

He recalled his old laptop, which had a dead battery and was being used as a hospital doorstop. I wonder if I can convince Luna to pull all the documents off of it to put in my glasses...

Close write, he thought. The documents disappeared.

"Having fun with your newfound toy?" Lyra asked.

"Yes, actually. How visible is it when I'm using it?"

She poked him in the side of his face. "I can see a tiny square of light bounce off of your eyes while your stare aimlessly into space. So I'd advise not writing when you're talking to somepony."

"Thanks, I was worried about that," he said, "I kinda wish Gosthette didn't tell us about this dream conspiracy until after the party. Kind of a mood killer, to be honest."

"She never let a life of secrecy go. Her term in the changeling hive, moving to Manehattan, becoming an agent—in her short time in Equestria," said Lyra. "She's known nothing else. I kinda feel sorry for her..."

He fell silent, enjoying the brisk midsummer's night air. A whole lot of secrets... A vivid memory came to the front of his mind.

What makes you so sure you are, and I am not?

The look of shock on her face after he asked her that single question was imprinted in his mind. Ever since he met her for the first time, she had always insisted that he was little more than a ticket home. They entered Equestria as two halves of a single human, loosely bound—but time passed and ponies were met. He was entirely his own being, in body and mind.

Pembrooke...

He shook his head, keeping an eye on the top-most spire of the looming castle. You called me that once, and only once. On the eve of an operation that had temporarily given me the body and powers of a changeling, a vow to Lyra that I would save her from darkness by embracing it in her stead... I became Pembrooke to you. Yet never again have you called me that. Why?

Was it our human name? Did my actions remind you of the life we had as a human? You hold our memories... while I held our morals. You became a cold-hearted assassin without me... But it was I that swung a blade to save you from yourself while you gave empty threats. You seem softer spoken—does this mean I will become more cruel?

"Welcome, welcome!"

They had reached the stair step of the castle before he knew it; Twilight was there in a resplendent gown of periwinkle and gold accents, accompanied by Spike the dragon in a small tuxedo. He bowed and waved them in as Twilight looked beside herself with glee.

She followed suit, flipping a number of scrolls through the air to read. "Okay, 'Lyra and Penni', check. We're missing just... Gosthette and Bassino, by the looks of it!"

"So the other princesses are already here?" asked Lyra. "I was hoping to be here before they showed up."

"But all the princesses are here now, Ly," said Pennaprose. "We just showed up, after all."

"I didn't know princesses wore green ties," remarked Lyra.

"Hey!"

Twilight and Lyra giggled heartily while Pennaprose fumed. "Well then, if I'm a princess tonight, I'm the best princess there ever was! ...And no lie, this tie is fabulous."

The two of them erupted into fits while they rolled over, hanging a hoof on each other's shoulder for support. They strolled off down the main corridor, letting the echo of their fevered chatter bounce into cacophony. He smirked, letting a feeling of amusement and happiness wash over him.

The feeling was brief, however. A small light flashed in the corner of his glasses' lens. He blinked twice at it, opening the message.

Running a little late. Bassino disappeared on me again. Let Twilight know I'm still coming.

He sighed in relief as he closed the message. And here I thought shit was already going south...

"Hey, you gonna follow them or what?"

He looked to his side. Spike was gesturing towards the hallway that Twilight and Lyra went down. He smacked himself and galloped, mentally admonishing himself for lagging behind. "Thanks, Spike!" He waved a clawed hand dismissively and smiled.

In no time he reached the end, standing before an enormous door. He frantically brushed his suit down, then pushed it open. A glimmer of candlelight filled the room before him, reflecting beautifully off of a dozen wine glasses and a magnificent chandelier of wood that hung from the ceiling. Beneath it, a crystalline round table with around a dozen chairs was the center attraction.

His eyes swept across the seats; the royalty was seated on the other side, all by each other. He spotted Lyra seated next to Twilight and trotted over to sit down between her and Rarity.

"What took you so long?" asked Lyra.

"Gosthette sent a message. She's running a bit late," answered Pennaprose. "Supposedly Bassino disappeared on him again."

"Oh, she is coming, then?" Twilight asked. "I was worried that she wouldn't."

"Even if she was a representative that you would have invited without me being around?" replied Pennaprose. "You really don't have any faith in her, do you?"

"N-no, that's not it, it's just... sorry. I don't know her that well, admittedly."

Pennaprose smiled. "Don't assume I do either. We might have been the same human at some point, but who truly knows themselves? She's her own being now as much as I am, and I will never claim to know her."

Twilight gave a half-hearted smile. "I don't know where you get all these ideas from, really. I think I know myself pretty well. ...But you still know Gosthette the best, even if it's very little."

She turned to Celestia and conversed away as Lyra listened intently. He looked at the wine glass full of water before him. I really don't know Gosthette. At all, really, he thought.

He glanced spuriously around the table. Two seats were left open, bordered by Fancy Pants and a mass of balloons he assumed was Pinkie's. That would be where, then...

"I do apologize for asking, but Winter White? Really? I thought I had you pegged as a connoisseur of dry red varieties, your highness."

A collective yelp came from Twilight and Lyra as the utterance came form behind them. It was Bassino, dressed in fineries of black all around save for a single golden pin on his lapel.

"E-eh! My, you scared me, Bassino..." said Twilight. "Um... where is—?"

"Ms. Shyling is lagging behind approximately thirty-two seconds than I. She did not see me set out into the night—"

"BASSINO! WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?!"

The door crashed open, revealing one very angry Gosthette. Despite the rage, her mane was done up in a multi-braided knot at the back of her head without flaw, her dress unruffled; it was a navy blue one with glitter that shone like stars in the candlelight.

She stormed up to him, throwing a bag into a seat unceremoniously beside Pennaprose's seat. "There you are, you wispy prick! Bassino, I thought we agreed to show up together! Then you go and vanish to show up ahead of me! Explain yourself."

Bassino adjusted his nearly invisible glasses. "I would think that your skill as an ex-assassin would be able to plan farther ahead than that. Frankly, I failed to correctly estimate my ability to evade detection. ...Would you like some wine, perhaps?"

He offered a glass filled with red wine. She scowled at him, then swiped the glass out of the air, downing it in one chug. "Bleh... somedays, I swear..." she said as she sat down a seat away from Fancy Pants.

Bassino coughed and turned to Celestia. "Apologies for the hostility. I cannot honestly control my habit of vanishing from the sight of others. I do hope I have not offended any of you for this sudden intrusion...?" He bowed.

Cadance waved nonchalantly. "It's hardly a problem, Bassino. We're here to relax and have a little fun in celebration for the recent efforts!"

Pennaprose forced to keep his eyes wide open this time; Bassino nodded, then walked away like a normal pony. Yet the second he blinked, he was gone. A clinking of the glasses from the other side of the table revealed he had somehow managed to silently walk several dozen yards, sit down between Gosthette and Fancy Pants, and begin pouring a glass in the blink of an eye.

Low, pleasant conversation brimmed the room as trays of wonderful food was brought out by Pinkie and Applejack. He kept a close eye on Bassino, unfoundedly curious despite himself.

"Penni? Are you playing with your glasses again?"

"...Huh?"

Lyra was giving him a concerned look. "You've been staring into space for the last minute. You've barely even touched your food, besides stab it to death..."

He looked down at his plate in shock. The lettuce he was eating had been shredded into thousands of leafy strips. "Sorry... it's not the glasses, though."

"Then what?"

He looked up, hoping not to draw attention. "...It's Bassino," he whispered.

"Bassino?" asked Lyra. "What about him?"

"I don't know... but something about him just unnerves me," whispered Pennaprose. "Blink once and he's elsewhere. Blink twice and he's behind you..."

"Blink three times?"

He looked up again. "...He's gone."

His seat was unoccupied, though nopony near it seemed to notice. "Its like his existence doesn't register unless he wants it to..."

Lyra raised an eyebrow. "...Really, I thought you'd have more tact than to gossip of somepony you just met. Lighten up, he probably went to the bathroom. ...Which reminds me, I need to make a trip there. Be back in a bit. Hey, Twilight..."

She turned away to ask Twilight a question. Pennaprose quietly took a sip of his water and shoveled a few forkfuls of salad into his mouth, chewing as Lyra left the room. You'd think that coat of his would drag everywhere, making noise. Maybe his Cutie Mark does that? ...What does it even look like?

His glasses buzzed again. This time, the message was tagged with Bon Bon's name. He opened it.

Remember to contact Cadance about the dream! Just mention my name and she'll help you...

He shut it before it lingered on his glasses to long. Glancing at Cadance, she was chatting with Twilight while eating picking at her nearly finished plate. He thought for a second, then spotted a plate of chocolates and had an idea.

"Hey, Twilight, I've been meaning to say; your castle is really nice!" said Pennaprose. "I bet there's no other castle finer in Equestria!"

Cadance gave him a scrutinizing look. "Ahahahuh. You haven't traveled that much, have you Pennaprose?"

Twilight smiled awkwardly. "Oh, it's a nice castle, but there are better ones..."

"Oh, but it's your castle!" countered Pennaprose. "I might not be the most traveled, but a fine castle cannot possibly exist without these exquisite chocolates!" He brandished them rather flamboyantly. "I mean, really! These are divine!"

"Oh, those?" said Cadance. "Please, those are royal standard! You should try the Crystal Empire variety, they've got these little sprinkles in them—oh, but these are delicious, to be sure."

"You must love them, don't you?" asked Pennaprose. "Bonbon, Cadance?"

She paused as Twilight looked between them innocently. "...Yes, thank you," said Cadance, taking one and unwrapping it as she turned to offer a second one to Shining Armor.

He put the plate of chocolates down, taking one for himself. Smooth, Penni. Smooth. ...Now what?

"But that isn't the point!"

He glanced across the table; Gosthette was scowling at Bassino, who had managed to construct some sort of wine glass tower. "Uninformed madness, Ms. Shyling. It is precisely my modus as to why I do not sleep consistently. Sir Pants, do you concur?"

"Eh, I, oh... eh what? Remind me of the subject again?" asked Fancy Pants.

"He's a lunatic!" chided Gosthette. "He wanders off like a child, never sleeps when he needs to, consistently offers everypony treats that he somehow keeps an enormous stash of in that circus tent of a coat—"

"I would hardly call fine wine a treat, Ms. Shyling," said Fancy Pants. "It is an experience that—"

"—BEER. HARD CIDER. VOD–KA. ASS. WAD. Get drunk or get out, that's what I say!" cried Gosthette. "I feel like a goddamn babysitter! Princess Twilight, I'm sorry, but there are some ponies that you can't stand, right? Know where I'm coming from?"

Twilight seemed dumbfounded. "I-I... um..."

Gosthette continued scowling at Bassino for a second, then let out a big sigh and an irritated flap of her wings that sent many feathers onto the table. "...Sorry. I've always had bad temper issues."

SMACKtinkle.

The sudden sound was wooden mixed with a tinkling of ceramics. A scattering of mashed potatoes surrounded Fancy Pants's plate, replaced by his head. Bassino leaned over and inspected him as everypony else looked on.

"...It appears that Mr. Pants has had a tad too much experience tonight. If you will all excuse me, I will attend to a meeting of the sobriety society briefly. I do carry alcohol-consuming chemicals with me at all times for just such an occasion," explained Bassino. "I will be back in a... half hour and three seconds."

He hung Fancy Pants over his back and trotted out of the door with impressive speed. He passed Lyra in the doorway; she gave them a sidelong glance as she walked to her seat.

"What was that about?" she asked as she sat down. "Did I miss something?"

"Too much to drink, apparently," answered Pennaprose.

He eyed the bottle that was fueling glasses on the other end of the table. From what he could see, it was only half empty. Either he must be absolutely horrible at keeping his alcohol or something's not right here...

A flash of white tugged at the edge of his vision. From his lapel, a wrapper was embedded and hastily folded up. He casually picked it out and unraveled it, noting it was from the chocolates. But there was more than traces of chocolate on it; it was written on as well in smudged ink. Lyra peeked over and gave a small gasp that only he could hear.

Hang back after dinner. There is a world of things we need to discuss.

Chapter 7: Cadance and Crypticism

Out the window, signs of ponies gathering on the hill nearest the castle began. Pennaprose watched through a ornate stained glass window to the crowds below, waiting. The room already had emptied mostly; the only ones left were him, Lyra, Cadance, Twilight, and Gosthette.

Lyra was fidgeting as she looked out the window next to him. "I kinda wanted to stay up and watch the raising of the sun. After this is done, do you mind?"

"Not at all, Ly," replied Penni. "I'm wide awake anyway."

She smiled and laid her head on his shoulder. "This view is nice, though..."

"Do you regret living underground sometimes?"

She didn't move, but a sharp intake of air said otherwise. "No... the sky is a nice place for inspiration, but the openness goes both ways. Everypony can see you, you can see everypony. No privacy at all."

"But you can go places others cannot."

Gosthette strolled up behind them, wings casually unfurled and dragging on the ground. Her mane was undone. "The sky, I mean. It's a curse only if you choose it to be."

"You're usually not one to wax lyrical, Goss," said Pennaprose. "Though I did get the message across."

"I know. That feather burst was meant to be cover for Cadance to slip her reply to you. Excellently done, by the way."

He grimaced. "I need to ask you about that. Why all the secrecy? If there is a potential threat on the horizon, shouldn't we have as many hooves be able to help?"

"I wouldn't expect you to really understand, Pennaprose," began Gosthette. "But secrecy is the only defense against betrayal. My trade is one rife with power plays and backstabbing politics. Withholding your secrets may save your life. ...The most skilled spies invariably do everything with proxies and conceal their involvement with anything, no matter how small. Among those, identities are the most vital piece of information; it is common practice to never directly reveal one's identity, instead using pre-determined methods of identification that won't seem out of place in normal parlance."

She shifted lazily, staring out the window. "Frankly, the fact that both you and Lyra know I'm in PINCH is poor form for a member. But I couldn't do anything about it either."

From behind them the sound of a door squeaking shut sounded. He turned around; only Cadance was left. Sighing in anticipation, he strafed past Gosthette and walked over to her. behind him, he heard Lyra and Gosthette follow suit.

"Hello, Cadance. There are important things to discuss, aren't there?" he said carefully.

She looked thoughtful, staring at the door. "...Yes. Yes, we do. I suspected you might be the pony I was advised to be on the lookout for when I heard your speech. ...Dreams. Or rather, the prophetic dream we both had."

"You believe it is prophetic, then?" asked Pennaprose.

She nodded. "Yes. Before Tirek attacked, both Luna and Celestia received a vision that forewarned them to his rise. Luna confided to me what it felt like; a dream that felt real as to be lucid, the feeling of suffocation upon awakening, and above all... the dream made more sense after waking. But on that last point..."

"Three blades, three mountains, chaos brought in fire and ice. One blade harms, the other heals. And the third bystands," recounted Pennaprose.

"Yes... save for the third blade. But I've been thinking of it nonstop, and I recalled one crucial piece of information," said Cadance.

A brisk gust of wind knocked against the windows, pattering out a lonesome rhythm in the silence of her pause. She wore a solemn expression as she looked onward, seemingly past Pennaprose and into the wall behind him.

"Have you perhaps heard of an ancient historical figure by the name of Queen Changeré?"

He coughed, feeling an electric shock run up his spine. The beating rhythm intensified as if in response. "...Yes, I have. In fact, at home I have a blade named after the selfsame figure."

Cadance's eyes narrowed, frowning. "Queen Changeré... historically, she was thought to be the progenitor of the changeling race. Her early demise at the hand of the first windigo, Djiingoh, was thought to be the reason changelings exist."

She brought out a book from behind her back. "I found this in the Crystal Library after searching for several days. It is incredibly old... but a passage in it refers to a pegasus that wielded the power of love, much like I do today."

The pages flipped at high speed, landing on a page near the end. One page had a depiction of Changeré, albeit a very crude one. It amounted to a pony with a helm that covered most of her head and wings tipped black.

"She had the unique ability to self-generate love in the form of magic and freely circulate it between beings, including herself. In olden times, she traveled the lands, gathering those who would follow her teachings of love. Nomadically inclined, her and her subjects wandered everywhere... until her death, at least. The cycle she sustained supposedly backfired, corrupting and depriving those that followed her into changelings. Her name is undoubtedly where the term changeling even comes from...

"But after that, something curious began happening. I am the Princess of Love today, but unlike Luna and Celestia, I am not immortal. In fact, I am not even the first that has held my title. Within a year of Changeré's death, an apocryphal story states that a pegasus filly was born with an unusual inclination for romance. The dates are not that well determined, but this filly eventually was supposedly crowned as the Princess of Love, acquiring alicorn status along the way.

"When she died decades later, it happened again. This time, a pegasus colt was born with the same inclinations, eventually ascending to be an alicorn and gaining the title within a year of the predecessor's death. Well, not princess so much, rather prince of love...

"By now, it was commonly recognized that the spirit of love has constantly been reincarnated and, curiously, it only ever reincarnates into pegasai. If I recall it correctly, I am the 138th in the line of princes and princesses that wield this power. Except... there is one key distinction between Changeré and every avatar that has followed her.

"I cannot draw in the magic of love of other ponies without mutual consent. If you notice, changelings have that ability, but cannot self-generate it. It was certainly no mistake that changelings elect a queen and not a princess while they have, historically speaking, clashed headfirst against Princes and Princesses of Love of the times."

Pennaprose paused, letting it sink in. Changeré, a queen of love. Represented by a blade, opposed by Djiingoh...

"You said that she met her death at the hands of a windigo, correct?" asked Pennaprose. "Djiingoh was his name?"

Echoes of something bounced in his memory. He activated his thought-word processor and watched the words appear before him.

And Her brother named Djiingoh, resentful to her sister's rule
Had left their ancestral home for find His calling in spite
Great Changeré from the West waved him off, past the East's lored hills
No word had yet come to us, but She wept in the night.

"Correct. There are no records to suggest the origins of windigos in general, but common understanding of this Djiingoh character is that he was a creature that was essentially a prototype of the modern windigo. He roamed the lands as a living nightmare, devouring the will to live from his victims. Those that died to him had no warmth left in their being, the souls rising from their dead bodies to become the vengeful spirit of another windigo. ...The only problem with the story is that there is no account of what he himself looks like."

"A one-hundred percent kill rate," uttered Gosthette. "Did the corpses at least stick around? Perhaps that might give a sign?"

Cadance shuddered. "Geez, you're grim. ...But accounts in other records I checked all described them as having their eyes removed. Groups of victims have a common trait of having broken out into a particularly violent fight. Hurk... I'm getting nauseous just thinking about it..."

"That aside," interjected Pennaprose. "What relevance does this actually bear to our situation at hand?"

Cadance sighed and shook her head dejectedly. "You tell me. The swords involved... bear the same names as the two figures we have been discussing, correct?"

"Yes. I did not bestow those names, however... they were given by the changeling that forged them," replied Pennaprose.

"It might be concluded that the names bear significance," said Gosthette. "Further research into the names may help up find leads to the meaning of the prophecy."

Pennaprose jumped as his glasses buzzed again. Another message, again from Bon Bon. He opened it.

Been awake so severely, its never over; I saw doves estimate a tall height.

J d c t r | s | c m g.

Prepare
A stroke from strike of night to day, found me culling crowds away
Into other worlds imagined, dreams derailed from sane to maddened.

He quietly studied it, confused. What the living hell is this? He closed it for later, but not before noticing Gosthette's inquisitive glance.

"Bon Bon. She sent me a drunk text or something, followed by a couplet," he said. "No, I don't know what it means."

It buzzed again. Another message from Bon Bon. He opened it.

We'll meet up behind Twilight's castle. Let me know anything you've discovered then; I contacted a correspondent and she says she might know something.

"...Well, she was coherent that time. Everypony, we're to meet up with Bon Bon behind the castle. Let's go."

Cadance trotted along without further word, as did Lyra. He followed them, but Gosthette huddled close to him.

"Tell me. What was that couplet?"

He reopened the first message with a thought. "A stroke from strike of night to day, found me culling crowds away. Into other worlds imagined, dreams derailed from sane to maddened," he recited. "I like how it flows, but I have no clue if she was trying to say something profound or not."

Gosthette stepped a bit away and started trailing him instead, saying nothing else. He frowned, realizing that she had a better sense for hidden messages than he did.

He continued to recite it in his head, trying to divine it. Something about it disturbed him, but he could not figure out why as the portcullis passed over their heads and the humid night air enveloped them.

Gosthette can live this kind of life if she wants to, I'd prefer to be kept out of it...

Bon Bon was standing rather nonchalantly against the castle wall, looking out towards the overflowing amount of ponies milling about the hillside with picnic blankets and lanterns. She spotted them and beckoned.

"There you all are," she said in a low voice. "I have sensitive information."

"The same, Bon," said Gosthette. "You first."

She nodded to the cessation. "All right. Gosthette, I spoke with correspondent Vendetta about the possibility of this matter being politically driven. Something popped up..."

She threw a case that was standing beside her. Gosthette caught it with her teeth and set it down. "FEST is constantly at the forefront of all scientifically involved matters; medicine, law, economics, construction, biology, social dynamics... and is the largest company of it's kind. I dug up more history related to its head, Bassino..."

"And?" asked Pennaprose.

"FEST does not disclose it's business dealings, but I got ahold of a leak... aside from work on SUNFEST, they've been secretly funding research into natural amphetamines, nano-technology, along with a particularly generous portion going into research of how electricity and magic interact in the minds of unicorns. Bassino has signed off as both the executive director and supervisor of these studies, while other departments of study are either unmonitored or underfunded. I couldn't trace where the investment was coming from, however."

"Funding research into natural amphetamines? Isn't that illegal?" asked Cadance. "The nerve..."

Gosthette opened the case. It contained numerous papers; upon close inspection...

"It doesn't help that all the papers related to the departments are written in that infernal language only he seems to speak and understand," fumed Bon Bon. "These are only copies, by the way. But enough of that, what about you?"

"Us?" asked Pennaprose. "About the dreams, yes..."

He recounted the ideas they made. Bon Bon looked thoughtful. "Hm... quite the opposite. I can't even be sure that the dreams are prophetical if they're tied to political matters."

"Perhaps. Unless it is, and we're missing something?" suggested Lyra. "Either way, it feels like we're following two different cases here. Why did you want to look into Bassino's personal history, anyway?"

"I just don't trust him," answered Bon Bon. "He isn't normal. He never was. Running FEST and serving underneath Fancy Pants for his line of casinos in Las Pegasus... even if he is awake almost all day every day, that sort of work should have broken down anypony into a puddle of insanity years ago."

Pennaprose frowned. That isn't nice... so what if he's an insanely hard worker? ...Well, a physically impossible one, at least.

An idea sparked from thin air. "Wait... do you know when he started working underneath Fancy Pants?"

"Yep. Sometime around a year ago, but he doesn't bother with the train, apparently," answered Bon Bon. "No records from there about it, unfortunately. What happens in Las Pegasus, stays in Las Pegasus."

"You said the investment towards the research wasn't able to be traced. This is a big maybe..." began Pennaprose. "But is it possible that he could be diverting casino money to fund the research?"

She looked dumbstruck at his words. "Eh... that's... actually possible. If the money was wired over an encrypted line, then there would be no records. And because its casino money, there would be quite a lot of it, to boot..."

"Agent Drops, I'll go and find him after this. Perhaps there is some incriminating evidence on his self that I can dig up," suggested Gosthette. "Cadance, as you are officially involved in this economically and 'on the black', so to speak, you are treated as a correspondent. We will be in touch. And Pennaprose?"

"Yes?"

She smirked, gaze unusually soft. "Same deal for you. You're in this mess deep, so I'll send you a message if I find anything. Officially speaking, welcome to the Network. You can find other members of PINCH by simply mentioning that you are a networker. See ya."

She spread her wings wide and launched into the air, heading off into the night sky. He watched her go somewhat wistfully.

For a third time, his glasses buzzed. Another message? he thought as he opened it.

Tick.

Tock.

Tick.

It resets.

It was unmarked; he couldn't tell who sent it. But it did remind him.

"Hey, Bon Bon... I've been meaning to ask. What was with that first message?" he asked.

"First message? The one you apparently got because you're here right now? What about it?"

The bottom of his stomach seemed to fall out. "No, the one with couplet. About dreams derailed?"

She gave him a raised eyebrow. "Huh?"

His ears perked up as he noticed the lack of crowd noise on the wind. He swiveled his neck to check; strewn all across the hill were ponies on their sides or back, unconscious. He even spotted a large, white lump at the top of the hill he took to be Celestia.

"W-what is this...?" he uttered. "What is happening...?"

He heard thumps, then stumbled a little as Lyra fell onto him. Her eyes were wide and calm, but her legs were locked in place. "Lyra...? Are you tired?"

She did not respond. "Ly...?"

"Intriguing. You alone have not succumbed."

The voice, soft yet steely, was familiar. He set Lyra down gently with his magic to look at the source.

It was Bassino.

"For the record, PINCH does quite well in tracing information. They dug up everything I set out for them."

He felt as if he was submerged in a vat of custard; his legs did not seem to want to respond as he could only stare in silent shock.

"Ah, but you... you are an anomaly. I'm not sure how, I'm not sure why... but you were unaffected by the Reset. How, I wonder?"

He bit his lip reflexively, shaking his head. "No! W-what is going on? Bassino? What is wrong with everypony?!"

"Nothing that they will not recall. Nothing that will matter. But that aside, ever since you and I met earlier today, you seemed to be outside of the normal. What is your secret?"

He adjusted his glasses, the glint of the moonlight now high in the sky reflecting off of them. Even if his voice held warmth, something about his gaze unnerved him in it's exactness.

"I don't know what you're talking about..." said Pennaprose. "Just tell me what's going on!"

"Hm. I wonder in two stages more. The first, what would happen if I inform you now. The second, how you have resisted my device."

He pulled out a small square box from his sleeve, extending an antenna. "Ultimately, perception of time and substance is how we can differentiate dreams from reality. Do you concur?"

Pennaprose said nothing. Bassino cocked his head, taking out a lollipop to suck on. "Well... I'll take that as a yes then. You have noticed that I seem like a ghost sometimes, disappearing at will, correct?"

He managed to cough nervously as he slowly turned to face Bassino. "This box, a miracle of nano technology... is with me at all times. They are programmed to enter nearby beings and scramble their perception of me directly. When you see me the first time, it imprints in your senses. These nanobots—in effect—suspend that initial imprint in your mind until I am out of range of you. Thus, I vanish in the blink of an eye to the perceiver. But it's not perfect..."

He stowed the box away, sighing. "No. For what I will achieve, this is merely a stepping stone, a prototype. And I will..."

He pulled out a syringe from a pocket. "This is the second step. Tonight's test was successful on both Fancy Pants and the mass range deliverance on this nano box of mine, but it only tests the waters. Do not fret for every other pony strewn about like laundry, they will awaken from their state of suspended awareness within a half hour. But... even I do not know what will happen to you."

He pointed the needle like a sword at him. "You are a valuable test subject for me, an unexpected variable in an otherwise successful experiment. Your limited time in this town will undoubtedly affect the other's memories when they do wake—"

"WHY?!"

His legs unlocked finally; he took a defensive stance in front of Lyra. "You never explained why! Why all the secrecy! Why the ruse!?"

He lowered his needle slightly. "You are a writer, correct?"

"Yes, but I don't see why that—"

"Dreams."

The wind caressed the silence between them, whispering ominously. "...Dreams?"

He lowered the needle even further. "Yes, dreams. At the ceremony this afternoon, you spoke of dreams in sleep and dreams of hope. The speech was excellent, aside from that."

He scowled at Bassino. "What—"

He lifted a hoof from out of his lab coat, withdrawing a book. "Rakh Shahala... a writer of academic papers and one of fiction should see eye to eye. Dreams are writing fluff that do nothing but fill space apropos book length. They are empty."

He could feel half of his face twitch, despite the fact that shock had stolen all the feeling in his face. "...On what basis do you discount the power of dreams?" he managed to spit out.

"You must ask?" said Bassino, putting the book back. "I, who have not slept longer than a mayfly's contemplation in the last five years of my life, do not dream in sleep. I, who have achieved beyond what most think is possible, have no utility of dreams of the future. I see a future of accomplishment in certitude. I will not be stopped. I will not be denied..."

He felt a sharp prick in his side, making him jump. The needle had entered his thigh, somehow without him noticing. He looked at Bassino in horror, but the only thing he returned was a slow wave of an antenna protruding from his sleeve and a tilted smile.

"Thousands of theses, hundreds of studies, dozens of academic textbooks, and a single failure for I. To you who have written fiction, I have endless amounts of respect for those who write books filled with everything I cannot understand.

"Good night."

Chapter 8: Square One

Pennaprose blinked. In front of him was an expanse of white, broken occasionally by a streak of blue. He waved a hoof lazily at it, immediately overcome with an overpowering sway of vertigo.

"Up, are you? Heh... about time."

His eyes snapped wide open in a panic as the closeness of the voice shot his heart rate through the roof. He jumped up and tried to roll over, smacking his face into a wall.

"You'd think that you'd be used to weird situations by now. Want a shot?"

He rubbed his muzzle angrily, but looked over when he recognized the voice. It was Vinyl.

"Vinyl? Where–?"

She shoved a glass of something in his face. "My house. Where else?"

He scrutinized the glass before him. "This isn't vodka or something, is it?"

She waved a hoof irritatedly. "As much as I like vodka, no. It's just water. Why would I give you alcohol right after you woke up from being drugged?"

His memory jogged, tightening his back. "Bassino..."

"He's long gone by now. It's the morning after the Summer Sun Festival. Life goes on in Ponyville," said Vinyl. "There's something else a little bit more important to you, though."

She walked away from the side of the makeshift cot. The room they were in was neat, a few abstract works of art hanging on the walls. Aside from that, everything one would expect in a room was there. Vinyl herself was digging in a dresser drawer.

"Yet another one. Another Reset."

"The rese-what now?" asked Pennaprose.

She turned around, holding some sort of metal box. "The Reset, or rather... the Revolutionary Essence Severance Ex-memory Tests. To put it simply, it's a series of tests on an experimental procedure Bassino has been refining over the last few months. Heavens know why he named it what he did. But the device itself appears to overwrite or erase specific memories...”

“And you know this and are telling me for no discernible reason except you apparently needed a sounding board,” snarked Pennaprose. “You live alone or something?”

She tossed the box to him, glaring at him through her magenta shades. "This is a replica I've reverse-engineered. And considering we're both connected to PINCH, you'd do well to drop the snark and try being more helpful.”

He turned the box over and over, examining it. There was nothing remarkable about it whatsoever; no features, no indents, nothing. “You know PINCH?” he asked. “In what capacity?”

She took off her shades, revealing a startlingly red pair of irises. “Vinyl may be my name, but among PINCH, agents come to me first when they need some dirt on somepony. They know me as correspondent Vendetta; the more I personally hate them, the more dirt I'll dish.

"And Bassino is a big one. What he is doing is highly illegal," continued Vinyl. "And even though I've broken the law like a pixie stick with a hammer thousands of times just to track him... his work is inadvertently looking to renovate the Canterlot club underground into what amounts to a drug ring. I don't take well to other ponies cutting into my DJ work.”

She stormed to the door. “Find me downstairs when you're ready to hear more about your situation. I can tell you now that it isn't particularly pretty.”

Without another sound, she whipped around the door, leaving him to his thoughts. He tossed the cube carelessly behind and him and followed.

Bassino... I still don't understand why. I didn't take you to be malicious. If anything, you seemed to be rather... friendly. Something about you made me feel reassured...

The stairs barely creaked as he descended them, surrounded by walls of white. He could here a faint sizzling from somewhere.
He emerged into a living room, which emanated the essence of schizophrenia. There was a clean, discernible line down the middle, dividing the room into two distinct feels. The one he landed in was various shades of blue and amazingly messy beyond normal living standards. The other was comfortable shades of beige and neat to perfection.

“AHGH!”

He ducked instinctively, hearing a clattering steel noise above his head. Something warm landed on his head.

“W-who are you? Vinyl, who is he?! Did you drag a random colt off the streets in the middle of the night again?”

“Yes and nope, Tavi. He's a business contact.”

“Contact,” she said flatly. “In your BED? Bah, I suppose I have to make more breakfast now...”

He chanced looking up. A grey Earth mare with a frazzled dirty iron mane was standing in a doorway, dressed in a white robe and wielding a frying pan rather menacingly. She locked eyes with him for a second, then turned her snout up and stomped off in a huff.

“Sorry 'bout that. Tavi doesn't like the fact I keep bringing home random stallions in the middle of the night.”

On the couch in front of him, Vinyl's head was poking over it. “Course, it doesn't help that I actually do that, correspondence or not. Heh...”

“Who was that?” Pennaprose asked. “She seemed awfully short-tempered.”

“Sit, we'll talk more...” said Vinyl, gesturing over the couch. “Her name is Octavia Melody. She's my roomie, and she only has a short temper for anything related to me. 'Course, she was a big fan of your speeches.”

He sat down next to Vinyl, frowning. “Er, was?”

Vinyl dug into the couch cushions, pulling out a ragged newspaper. “About three days ago, the mayor gave a speech about the upcoming Summer Sun Festival. It was a small one, hardly garnering a large crowd. But you were credited with writing it; frankly, I thought she was going to build a shrine or something afterwards.”

“What happened?” he asked, slightly hurt. “Did I say something wrong?”

“No, not at all,” reassured Vinyl. “Right now, you haven't said anything to her at all. At least, nothing she can't recall...

“The Reset, Pennaprose. Tavi is just one case—one in a thousand cases. What do you recall about last night?”

He frowned. “I was with... Bon Bon, Cadance, Lyra, and Gosthette... we were discussing leads about Bassino. And a prophetic dream...”

“Heh? A dream, really?” questioned Vinyl. “Loada shit.”

“Not really, no...” said Pennaprose. “They're inspirational.”

She looked sidelong past her newspaper with a raised eyebrow. “Having dreams are another way of saying you lack the will to make them a reality. Being inspired never helped anypony.”

He scowled at her. “Anyway... we were talking. After Gosthette left, Lyra fell on me, stiff as a wooden plank and just as responsive. And then... he showed up.”

“Exactly. He initiated the Reset.”

She flipped the paper upside down and shoved in his face. Complex diagrams were drawn on it, containing arrows and symbols that danced around it in a seemingly random fashion.

“The Reset has occurred where ever Bassino goes. The box he carries around doesn't seem to do it, but rather expedite it—rather, a minute drug dosage of something he appears to carry around seems to do the trick.

“This drug is extraordinarily complex, appearing to attack motor muscles as well as parts of the brain that controls long-term memory preservation and short-term formation. But oddly, it doesn't fry memory completely; only specific elements within a memory are affected. Namely... anypony that everypony met for the first time within the last month. Experiences tied to them. Things like that.

“I wish I could have extracted a sample from your bloodstream to test on, but it after it takes effect, it immediately breaks down into dozens of smaller acids. So I can't even begin to let PINCH know a countermeasure drug...”

Something seemed off. He replayed Vinyl's words in his head, letting them write onto his lenses. Suddenly, one phrase jumped out at him, the meaning ironing itself into the back of mind like a cattle prod.

“Vinyl... does this mean... everypony I've met since coming to Equestria... everypony... has forgotten about me?”

“Mostly. You've only been around for about a month, give a few days... so anypony affected by the drug Bassino is playing with has forgotten you. Unfortunately for you, that means Lyra no longer knows who you are. Neither does Twilight nor the Mayor. Back to square one, at least I think so...”

He put his hooves on his forehead, feeling a wave of cold spread through his soul. Lyra... you can't have... Twilight...? My income...?

“Don't get all mopey on me, Penhead. Square one is still a place to go on from. Your piece is still on the board.”

He felt her patting his back, but he found that he did not care. His eyes were too dry to cry, but his glasses slipped off as he hunched over, a wave of shivers taking over.

“Vinyl... I literally have nowhere. Nothing. There is no square one...”

“No. Ask yourself; how did I avoid the Reset?”

He jerked his head up, a small light dawning in his mind's thunderstorm. “H-how?”

“I've known about his tests for a while...” she began, taking off her glasses. “The nanobots that he uses to obscure his presence enters explicitly through the eyes and ears. ...With these shades and the headset I usually tote around, I can remain alert to his approach. He knows this, so he is never able to Reset me.

“But there was one pony who was present that night that got out of range just in time. Who was that pony?”

He sat, fighting back the lump in his throat. Scenes of last night replayed in his mind, until...

“Gosthette!”

Vinyl beamed. “Exactly! I can bet she wasn't affected! The only problem now is that you need to get in contact with her. Because you know what? She's in the same boat as you.”

He paused, wiping the pooling tears from his eyes. I had forgotten Gosthette for a second, he thought, feeling slightly ashamed. That rare smile that adorned her face when she took to the sky was still fresh in his mind.

He got up. “All right! There's a lot to do... and a lot of ground to cover! Where do we start?”

“Hm. You say 'we'. I'm not going after you when you leave,” said Vinyl.

“E-Eh? Why not?” he said, faltering.

She sighed, twirling her glasses in midair with her magic. “Nopony knows where she went before the Reset, and now nopony even knows who she is. The only way both your past and her past can be proven to anypony now are physical traces both of you left.

“I'm a correspondent, Pens. All I'm good for is collecting data. ...No, for what you need to do, only you can do it. But what is it you need to do? Who do you absolutely need at your side right now...?”

He trotted to the door, thoughts racing to the forefront, all fighting for attention.

“...Right. I'll see you around, then.”

He raced full tilt outside, letting the fresh morning air bristle through the trees and through his mane. It invigorated him, spurring him onward in Ponyville—a town now both familiar and alien.

If I've learned anything in the last month, it's that going it alone is a surefire way to fail. I need somepony by my side...

Chapter 9: While It Lasted

The edge of the forest stood sentinel before him, tall and imposing. Though the hot, summer day was partly blocked by the selfsame trees, no inviting breeze came to dispel the heat he felt. He panted short, heavy breaths in effort to recover from the gallop that brought him all the way across Ponyville.

He wiped his brow, calming down. The hidden trap door entrance lie covered in a patch of grass before him, the handle barely visible. He picked it up with his magic and pulled, popping it open with a pneumatic hiss.

Whatever happens, nopony is at fault, he told himself.She might not remember me, but if I stand by and do nothing, she will never remember me. And that...

The crystals lining the walls were dimly lit, a few flickering in an effort to remain so.

But Lyra, please remember…

The echo of his hoofsteps bounced low; this hallway, which was once home, felt like a tiger ready to pounce. He acutely felt the tightening of his skin as his senses went on full alert. Every dust speck that floated in the air seemed like an arrow, every shadow an enemy.

As he tip-toed, a light, sweet tone mingled with the dust. That's Lyra's voice… he realized. She's singing.

The words were indistinct, yet the sound calmed him. He could never make out the words, for whenever she sung that tune, she sung it when she thought he couldn't hear him. Behind closed doors, while she thought he was asleep… but he never said anything.

The words, he reasoned, were not important to him. It was the reason she was singing; for that, he let her keep her secret.

He smiled despite himself. I never had secrets I knew and withheld, he thought. What can you do when you've been around for only a month or so?

The soft, dirt floor adequately muffled his hoofsteps. Even so, he stepped as if it were glass. As he finally approached the living room, the singing had grown fully distinct; he caught the final line as the tune petered out.

"...feel forgotten, feel worthless~"

A lump formed in his throat as he recognized the words. It was the final line of the first poem she had ever wrote, borne of her time and hardships she faced after her mother had taken her own life.

He whispered the first line unconsciously, a familiar tingling sensation from his Cutie Mark prickling his flank. "I live to love and carry on..."

He stood barely within the shadows, a lightly flickering fireplace casting a dim shadow before him. He saw Lyra's shadow extending into the hallway, freezing at his utterance. His ears stood at end as he looked onward, waiting for a sign.

After a moment of tense silence, she finally spoke. "...W-who's there?"

He hesitated for a second, then stepped forward. "...Please don't be afraid. My name is Pennaprose... do you remember me?"

He took a few more cautious steps, lowering his head. She said nothing, but wore an expression of great disturbance. He could tell she did not.

"All right," he said after a few seconds. "You do not, then–"

"H-how do you know those words? How do you know this place?"

He glanced back up slightly. In her eyes held a tinge of indignity, but it lie plastered in a layer of fear. He keenly felt the chill of her gaze, and knew the weight of the consequences of whatever he could say next.

"T-there are things you have forgotten now, but–"

"Don't patronize me! I know I don't know much, but that doesn't answer my question! Who are you?"

He balked, taking another step back. Coughing, he shook his head and advanced one more time. "If you cannot remember my name... then I have nothing left to tell you. I have precious few tales to recant of this world."

He heard the fireplace crackle and spit embers, filling the unnerving silence. Lyra backed up, never looking away as she did.

"But I know you, Lyra Heartstrings. This is your home."

He felt a fell breeze flow in from behind him, a relic of the open door he left. The fire in the hearth wavered and weakened for a second before roaring back.

She stood frozen, any trace of indignity or anger vanishing. All that was left was consumed by fear. Another lump formed in his throat, this one far more painful.

"And I know those words... because you once told me, Lyra. Your first ever poem."

She backed up even further, nearly tripping into the fireplace. "Y-you know I am...?"

"A poet? Of course. You found your Mark in this place, left by a gracious, unknown donor. You spent a week here, doing nothing but reading the books that lie nestled here... and emerged with your purpose," he said in a rising tone, tears pooling behind his eyes. "One thousand, four hundred, eighty six times you had recited that last line to yourself before finding an inner strength to go on."

Suddenly, a glint of steel broke the air and came between them. "You... stalker! Leave this place! I'm not afraid to use this!"

Djiingoh was pointed squarely at his chest, the fear in her eyes given way to a crazed certainty. "You don't belong in this place...! Leave!"

He paused, feeling a steady stream of tears fall down his cheeks. The lump disappeared, but he let no sound escape his lips. Without another word, he turned around and walked back to the doorway.

"No fault of either of us. None... at all," he uttered hollowly. "Your blade has not swung at me, yet your words have pierced my heart all the same. Wherever your path leads, remember the shadows you cast. For I will always be there. ...I am sorry, Ly."

He broke into a rushed gallop, feeling the tears fly. I had told myself to be prepared for the worst case scenario...

The multicolored crystals cast light into his watery eyes, drowning the world around him into a cornucopia of color. His breath fell short as he wheezed and sputtered through the hallway at breakneck speeds.

Neither I nor she had done nothing wrong...! So why has this happened to us?

The blinding daylight pierced the relative darkness of the corridor. He squinted through the tears as he reached the entrance.

This nightmare I've descended into... This absolute...!

The image of a single pony came to his mind amongst the chaotic brew of thoughts and feelings in his mind.

Bassino... this is his doing! But...

And yet anger did not come to him. He was not sure what he was feeling, but he was certain anger was not a part of it.

The day was hardly over, but he curled up at the trunk of an Everfree tree and tried to calm himself, to fall asleep. Yet no matter how he tried, he could not return to dreaming so easily.

Chapter 10: The Pit

"Hey."

He refused to open his eyes. The shade of the tree deepened the coldness he felt, even though the day itself was warm and cheery.

"...Hey, get up. You're needed somewhere."

"...No," he replied automatically. "I am needed nowhere."

He felt a dull kick in his sides. "Sorry, no. You're needed in Canterlot. Or would you rather let Gosthette chase down Bassino on her own?"

He opened his eyes with effort, rubbing them with a hoof. The voice was Vinyl, who was hovering over him. "And what of it...?" he spat. "The world can burn in a pool of it's own blood for all I care. Besides, the train is too slow."

"Train? We're not taking the train, Penhead."

He twisted his head weakly, glaring at her. It might have been his imagination, but the sun seemed to be setting already. "I'm not walking anywhere right now either. This patch of dirt suits a nopony like me just fine, thank you."

She snorted, grabbing his tail with her magic. "Who the hell said anything about walking to Canterlot? No, I have my connections. Neither of us are walking."

He resigned himself as his chin dragged on the dirt. What point is there...? I was hoping to at least make Lyra remember me. That way I could have someone at my side...

Yet her words piqued his interest. "Neither of us, you said? I thought you weren't going to help me."

"I wasn't going to help you convince Lyra, because I know that's who you were aiming for," she replied. "That's something you had to try for yourself. But in the meantime... I was setting up a little something and called a few ponies. We're going to Canterlot in a way that's not public whatsoever."

"You knew then? That I would fail?" he muttered dejectedly. "How perceptive of you."

"I'd prefer not getting Lyra mixed up in this," she said, sighing. "You'll have all the time in the world after this gets sorted out afterwards. Plus, You'll also have everypony able to tag along to help her remember you. But think of it this way: she doesn't know you right now. I'd wager to say that she knew the most about you. While she's unaware of you, she can't be used as a hostage."

"But..." he began. "It's Lyra. My life without hers, her life without mine... Where is the meaning?"

"You're forgetting that she has other ponies that care about her well being. Stop being selfish for once."

He reeled back, hurt. "I... What right do you have about telling me that? I have nopony, Vinyl. Gosthette would choose to live elsewhere, and I had chose to live with Lyra so that I might ease her burden, in heart and wallet! You know how hard it is to live on commissions, don't you? Or does your cushy job as a shady info dealer pay so well that you can afford to retire now? For somepony who prides herself in knowing everything there is to know, you are ignorant!"

She glared at him over her shoulder. "Man, you are in one sour mood right now. Of course, I can't blame you. You did just get amnesia-dumped. It ain't your fault."

"Thanks a lot, o' bitchy paragon of empathy. You're my damn savior in this bleak hour."

"Ha, well fuck you too!" she spat, laughing. "But stand up already, we're here."

He stumbled to his hooves. They were standing in front of a cliff wall, at the base of a mountain he knew to just outside of Ponyville's city limits.

"And is this stone wall's purpose for bashing my face in?" said Pennaprose. "Seems solid enough to make me forget today."

He moved forward to make good of his statement, but just as he was about to connect with the rock face, it gave way. He stumbled for a second before regaining his compose.

"No, but you can plant your face if the dash on the way there if you want," quipped Vinyl. A low rumbling sound was reverberating nearby, but it was too dark to tell from where.

He adjusted his glasses. "What does Rainbow Dash have to do with this and why should my face be inside her? Wait, back that one up..."

She smirked, her dazzlingly white teeth flashing a Cheshire grin through the darkness at him. "Wrong dash."

Without warning, light flooded the room, accompanied by what he first thought to be the roar of a dragon. "A little gift from PINCH for a particularly juicy tipoff that turned—oh wait, never mind. That's classified."

He rubbed his eyes, wincing from the harshness of the light behind his eyelids. He could hear a low, steady beat among the low humming.

"Like the paint job? Custom made it myself."

He wiped his eyes one last time and his mouth went agape. Before him was what appeared to be a midnight blue vehicle of sorts, curves sleek and smooth. As he watched, a few stray runes and sparks slipped out from under the hood.

"Say hello to the KB-455 Undertaker. Top engineering from the heads of PINCH, powered by electricity and magic. Can hit top speeds of 200mph in an emergency, but it puts a ridiculous drain on the battery. Only a unicorn with the proper passspell can activate it. AI enhanced, outfitted with a number of useful field tools including a drill, rocket launchers, all-terrain drive, fold-out canopy, king-sized bed, and most importantly, wine."

He stared, first at the car, then at Vinyl. She was grinning at it like it was her newborn foal. "This is... very nice. But I thought this world was mainly a magical agrarian society?" he asked. "How in the name of hell does this exist?"

"Ponies that aren't spies or spy affiliates scare easily to change, I'm afraid," she sighed. "A combination of commercial inviability and social inertia has kept things like this from hitting the roads across Equestria. Frankly, that SUNFEST project you gave a speech about is 'on the cutting line', according to civilians. But the tech and magic has been around for... about three years by this point?"

She opened the driver's side door; a torrent of music blasted into the enclosure and temporarily blinded him from sheer force. He winced and placed his hoofs over his ears until the peeling migraine faded.

"Sorry 'bout that. I forget just how good the soundproofing is as well," she said. "Anyway, get in."

He scowled at her as he carefully climbed into the passenger seat. The door slid pneumatically behind him as Vinyl did the same. She jammed her horn into a hole in the steering wheel; it made a few whirring sounds and revving died down to a kitten's purr.

"Running on silent mode. Co-run AI Countess."

A rainbow of lights swirled on a dashboard, forming an image of a pony without any notable features. A soothing feminine voice came from somewhere in the car.

"Hello, Vendetta. Where are we headed today?"

"Base. Take a route through the desert. When we get within the city limits, cast the para-stealth shield," said Vinyl. "Oh, and don't mind Penhead here. He's approved on my authority."

Though without facial features, the holo-pony seemed to look at him curiously before it nodded. "Understood, Miss Vendetta. Plotting route..."

Vinyl chuckled. "We'll be there in about twenty minutes. Chill, why don't you?"

She pushed a button atop the steering wheel. In a blur of metal, something extended from the armrest between them. Before he knew it, there sat a martini glass filled with a blood-red liquid. She took it in her magic and took a delicate sip as her chair reclined into a bed and the car smoothly glided forward.

He looked out the window as the car gained speed at a frightening clip. Trees seemed to fade into a blur as the vehicle seem to deftly swerve between them, yet he could hear nothing of the crunching of the leaves and branches as they went.

Perhaps I had hoped that I could ride this whole deal out and not get involved, thought Pennaprose. Gosthette, Bon-Bon, even Cadance would take care of it while Lyra and I could dwindle away the days in safety. Saving Equestria once is more than enough for me.

He scowled, thinking of Bassino's words last night, quickly suited by Vinyl's sentiment.

Dreams are writing fluff that do nothing but fill space apropos book length. They are empty... ...Having dreams are another way of saying you lack the will to make them a reality. Being inspired never helped anypony.

They know nothing of dreams, he fumed. Even if Bassino admitted it himself, he still underestimates them. Vinyl, as well... they do not know. They cannot know.

He felt a pang of anger flare, forming a lump in his throat and a pressure in his jaw. If not for Lyra's sake, then it seems I have more than just injustice to correct this time.

He just hoped he believed in them strong enough himself.

Pennaprose felt relaxed, even as the memory of Lyra's disillusionment struck a steady stake in his heart. The steady bump of the car wheels as they ran stones down flat on the desert ground seemed to rock him into a trance.

"So, Penhead," asked Vinyl. "I've been meaning to ask you a question."

He looked up from the game of poker he was playing with the holo-pony on the dash. She had consumed at least three martinis by now, if the olives were any indication. "...Sorry?"

"I wanted to ask you about Gosthette. Even for a spy, she seems to be hiding a lot of secrets. Know a few and care to share?"

He frowned. "No. I don't pry into her life. Besides the fact she tries to skin anyone who tries spying on her. I have no right or need to know."

"Spies never have a right to know. That doesn't stop any of them, however..." she said, chuckling. "I, on the other hand... heheh."

He sighed in annoyance. "At any rate... I prefer leaving Gosthette to her secrecy. I don't see the value in that kind of lifestyle, but that doesn't mean I look down on her for it. We are two separate beings."

"So you say."

He paused, glaring scrutinizingly at her. "Excuse me?"

"Nothing," she huffed. "Known secrets bring suspicion, suspicion engenders betrayal, betrayal begets hate, hate brings war. And war brings everyone down with it. You two are inexorably tied together; it's in your best interest to know as much about her as possible."

A low humming sound emitted from the dash. "That was the para-stealth shields. We're here."

He looked out the windows, thinking. Know as much about her as possible for my own safety? I thought that spies were expected to keep as many secrets as possible? Something she said yesterday came to his mind. He activated the word-thought processor and wrote it before him.

...Secrecy is the only defense against betrayal... Withholding your secrets may save your life. ...The most skilled spies invariably do everything with proxies and conceal their involvement with anything...

They can't both be right, he fumed. She wouldn't betray me, would she? As if I could be a threat to her... Or maybe she doesn't tell me everything for another reason?

He grimaced as he recalled the fact that she held all their human memories. I was hoping to interview her about them at some time, but she disappeared before I had the chance.

The white towers of Canterlot scraped the sky, eating at the horizon fast as they approached. The train tracks were nowhere in sight, plus they seemed to be headed straight for the mountain face that Canterlot stood attached to. He nervously poked Vinyl's shoulder. "Um, care to slow down?"

"Opening shutters."

They slowed down a minute amount before hitting it; like putty, it gave way and vanished for them. Lights sprung up astride them, pleasantly dim.

"Preparing bay."

Loud clangs of metal scraping against stone hit the air. They rolled to a stop, comfortably nestled in a dead end. Another voice, low and solid male one, cut through the windows as the music started ramping up again.

"Hello, Vendetta. You have 852 unread messages—"

"Yeah, yeah. Trash that shit, it's probably generic updates and Mers buggin' me again," huffed Vinyl, popping her door open. "Follow me, Penhead."

His door popped open as well; he walked out and began looking around.

Aside from the surprisingly metallic and warm floor, everything was as a normal cave was expected to be. He could hear a steady dripping from somewhere. "Where are we right now?" he asked as the floor seemed to sink into the ground around them, forming a kind of chute.

"Approximately 0.4 kilometers under and 0.15 south-southwest of Celestia's personal bathroom," replied Vinyl. "Don't ask me why I know that."

"Why the bathroom though? And not, say, her throne or bed?" he remarked, "...And for that matter, why not Luna's bathroom?"

She scowled at him. "Because fuck, that's why."

Light flooded the chute from the hoof up. He put up a hoof to protect himself, but something about the light seemed to pierce his very flesh...

"Welcome to the Pit," said Vinyl. "We'll get everything set right. You just wait and see."

Author's Note

I have recently acquired Xenoblade Chronicles X, so I can only guarantee next week's chapter and maybe the week after. After that, I may need to put this on a temporary hiatus while I recharge a buffer of chapters. Thank you. :twilightsmile:

Chapter 11: Within the System

Numerous sounds came from every direction, each more perplexing than the last. Among them were the hoofsteps of at least a dozen beings, accompanied with a low rumble of voices. As the lift came to a quiet hiss and stopped, he tried lifting his arm to see.

"Title and authentication?" came a flat voice.

"The Great and Powerful Princess Mi Amoré Flutter Sparkle Applebottom, you fuckstick. Who do you think I am?"

"Welcome back, correspondent Vendetta. Crescent Minor Phobos heard you were coming and has asked you to debrief him in Room O—"

"Shove it, Mers. ...This is the pony I messaged you about, by the way. Hey Pennaprose, you know those fancy glasses of yours have an auto-tinter, right? Look around."

He carefully lifted his arm, revealing his surroundings through his quickly-dimming lenses. Everything in the room was an inexplicably dazzling white—the coats worn by the ponies milling about, the floor, the walls, everything. Past Vinyl was a monitor several dozen meters high that melded with the walls. He felt a lurch of vertigo as he surveyed the room.

"Ah. A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Lochflow. If you would come with me, I shall answer your first three questions before explaining everything else..."

The pony he took to be Mers was standing with a clipboard in one hoof and a piercing look. His mane—a solid block of pink—covered one of his two magenta eye and reached down to the floor. His coat was dark grey; he gestured with a tattered wing as he left, making an odd clinking sound.

He gave Vinyl a questioning glance, only to be met with a smirk. "I'm off to do my thing. Mers will get you situated."

He furrowed his brows, but trotted off after Mers. As he caught up, he noticed a small metal antenna protruding from the back of his head.

"Sir, are you familiar with what PINCH's directives are?" asked Mers.

He stared. "Um, Gosthette didn't say much in the way of specifics. Neither did Vinyl—"

"Well then," sighed Mers. "That is simply another thing I get to explain. But first and foremost... my title and actual name is New Major Merscine. Everyone simply shortens it to Mers for reasons I cannot fathom of living tissue."

"Huh?"

"Second off, I am aware you have already noticed a few telltale signs. Before you inquire as I explain far more important things, I am an android interested in physical augmentation."

He twisted his neck around and brushed his mane aside, revealing his other eye through a split of hair. It was an expanse of glass and black iron, lit with neon lights that danced across his iris.

"Oh...kay then. That's interesting," he quipped. "Mercury it is, then."

They passed through a doorway, unusually wide. No door swung shut behind them.

"Third answer. This facility is lit to an obscene degree, as you've noted," he said, waving a lazy hoof around him. "It is designed as it is to maximize visibility of agents in here. And..."

A whirring sound came from the ground. It spilt open, letting a table rise up, also lit from underneath. "It is to remind us all that no matter how pious our motives, how pure our intentions..."

His mane fell aside completely for a brief moment, revealing an overlarge expanse of sickly pale metallic white, broken by an intense point of red. It bounced around for a few seconds before intensely fixating on him too much for his own comfort.

"We all cast a shadow somewhere, no matter how hard we try to hide."

——3 hours later——

He walked out of the room, head spinning. Mers was smiling rather nonchalantly behind him, much to his annoyance.

"Now that I've caught you up on everything you are authorized to know—"

"There's more?" Pennaprose shot in irritation. "Geez..."

"—we need to outfit you for your mission. After that, we're due for a meeting with the Full Major," he finished, trotting in front of him.

"The one in Las Pegasus?" he asked. "Where B—"

"NOT," cut in Merscine. "Out. Here. Though I cannot sense anyone in this hall unauthorized to know of it, you must get into the habit of knowing who is allowed to know what. Such negligence will kill you in the field."

He huffed, scowling at him. "Says you and everyone I've met from PINCH. All these secrets... why bother having such a blindingly white headquarters designed to expose ponies while doing to opposite for knowledge?"

He could almost hear gears turning in his mind which, he reminded himself, probably was what he was hearing. "A necessary caution, Mr. Lochflow. While newer recruits unfailingly air the same complaint, it has a sole purpose that experience with our trade confers. And that is that trust based on faith is useless."

"Then answer me this, at least. That is, if you are all right in answering it."

He twisted his neck to look back. Disconcertingly, it was his robotic eye.

"Are you a pony who chose to augment you body? Or a robot who chose to augment your mind?"

"My brain is currently operating at 15.7 percent capacity, and I register a slight creak in my front right leg's joint—"

"That's not the question I asked."

"Then I fear I do not understand your question."

"Do you forge onward to find strength? Or do you dream of knowing life?" asked Pennaprose.

"That is a different question than the first."

"It isn't."

Merscine twisted his head around the other way, letting his organic eye look on at him. As he did, something changed in his expression, but he could put into words exactly what it was.

"...I was originally a robot by choice that gained a conscious through analyzing my own decisions. That is all."

He turned back around and stopped. "Ah. Here we are."

Pennaprose blinked; they were stopped in front of a sleek black door that stood out like a weed. Merscine tapped a hoof against the center; the touch caused it to melt away into nothing.

Stepping inside, Pennaprose's jaw dropped. The room was circular, outfitted with obscene amounts of refined weaponry and numerous gadgets behind an immaculate wall of glass. If he didn't blink a few times, he could have sworn he was dreaming.

"Countess, a standard field issue pack, if you please. Unilock."

He stared onwards as some unknown force sucked various gadgets behind the glass upward to places unknown. In mere moments, a hatch slid open in the ceiling and deposited a briefcase on a table in front of them that had risen to meet it.

"Go on, take it."

He hesitated, then picked it up with his magic. As he did, a small beep emitted from it and one of the sides flashed briefly.

"That case and it's contents are now registered to your magic signature. Only you can open it," explained Merscine. "I have uploaded a guide to your glasses for you to peruse at your leisure. But for now, we have a meeting to attend. Come."

He sighed, feeling underwhelmed. Clean, efficient, streamlined... everything an organization needs to be to fight in secret.

But, he wondered, have I fallen into a nightmare? Or a dream? And what place do dreams have in such a manor? I feel as if I don't belong here. Gosthette must be perfectly at home here, though.

WHHHHHRRRRRRRRRRRRIIIIIIIIIINNNNNGOOOOOOOOOOOOOOA

A klaxon alarm sounded, causing him to jump in surprise. "What the hell?"

"Figure Six, sector one. Intrusion by a currently unknown entity. Contacting base manifold..." reported Merscine. Pennaprose could spot several flashes of color flashing wildly across his mechanical eye. He set off at a brisk pace, back towards the main room. Pennaprose galloped after him, curious.

"NMI Marsciline, FQMA Junaz, 3CMI Euraipior, respond! Minors, close the main escape route! Major Junaz, you're the closest! What's the entrance's status!?"

A translucent screen appeared hovering in the air in front of him, containing a single line going across. A voice, deep and booming, accompanied it.

"No need to raise the alarm, Mers. It's a chai tea alarm. Guess who set it off?"

Mers gave out an audible snort, then the alarm subsided until it was replaced with a jazzy down tempo piece of music.

"Dammit, this is the fourth time! Any more of these stunts and I'm going to have to ask FMA Elunar to discipline her..."

He stopped, took a breath, then continued at a leisurely pace. "I believe you're looking for somepony?"

He pushed past, almost smacking him in the face with his new briefcase. Against the steady metal sound of his hooves beating a fast rhythm on the metal, he could only think one thing.

Thanks for saving me the trouble!

Author's Note

My chapter buffer has run out by this point largely owing to the fact that my time has been eaten by the recent acquisition of Xenoblade Chronicles X. I cannot promise a new chapter next week, thus I am putting Awoke IN on a temporary hiatus. This will last until I have built up a 4-chapter buffer again. For those of you who also have had a chance to see or play XCX, you should understand how massive of a game it truly is—this hiatus may last two or three months. I will try my best to complete it as much as I can in as little time as possible, but understand that it is still an enormous time commitment either way.

Thank you for your time, have a wonderful day. :twilightsmile: