How to Disappear Completely

by shortskirtsandexplosions

Rating: teen
Tags: Equestria Girls, Slice of Life, Flash Sentry, Human, Sad, Drama, Other
Length: 173383

Flash Sentry's world sucks. Maybe it's high time he left it.

Flash Sentry's world sucks. Maybe it's high time he left it.

(Indeed)

Cover Art by amalgamzaku aka mix-up

Published 2016-12-12 02:00:02 UTC
Last updated 2018-05-25 20:29:40 UTC

Yesterday

A golden sunset dimmed beyond the long, winding road ahead. Flash Sentry sat in place, and for whatever reason—he was smiling.

"McCracken Trail," he exhaled in a dream-like tone. The teenage boy leaned forward from where he was reclining atop the hood of his sports car. The slick vehicle was parked in the grass area, still warm from a settling engine. There wasn't another soul around for blocks—except for the one lying lazily beside him. "Y'know... I've always driven up to this very spot... but never past it. Do you wanna know why, Sunny?"

"Hmmm?" muttered a bored voice in response to the quaint nickname.

Flash sighed again. "Because the moment I go past this spot is the moment I leave this town for good. Brighter pastures, y'know?" He continued smiling. As the silence persisted, he turned to the fiery-haired figure beside him. "You know what I mean, Sunset?"

"Ungh..." Her eyes rolled and her body rolled upright along with them. "Why'd you bring me all the way out here, Flash? We're—like—miles away from civilization."

He blinked. "It's only half a kilometer at most." He chuckled. "Just figured you could... y'know... check out some of my old haunting grounds." He brushed a hand over his jet blue hair and glanced once more at the dying day. "I used to come here a lot. Just to think. Meditate on life and all that sappy stuff. Heh. Come to think of it, I-I've never brought anyone else out here with me—"

"If you wanted to get nostalgic, couldn't you have done that back at Canterlot High? A simple conversation would have sufficed. I swear, it's gonna take us over an hour to get back."

"The roads are pretty empty this time of the day. We can make it back in a blink! Provided the cops aren't on patrol... eheheh..." Flash winked. "Just kidding."

Her eyes remained firm. "Whatever." She folded her jacketed arms. "Do you remember that thing I told you that I wanted to talk about or have you lost track of time as much as space?"

"Erm..." Flash bit his lip, squirming against the painted hood of his prized wheels. "I... uh... I guess I just got lost in the moment—"

"Flower Print. That chubby girl with the yellow-streaked hair."

"Huh?" Flash squinted. "You mean... my tutoring partner in Third Period Calculus?"

"Yes." Sunset Shimmer's brow furrowed. "Her."

"Heh..." Flash smiled. "Yeah, she's a nice student. Been struggling a bit with her equations though, but she's showing improvement. Just this week, she's gotten her grade point average up a whole point! Mr. Doodle tells me that I've been a big help to her—"

"Well, as of this week, you're gonna stop."

Flash blinked. "I am?"

"You heard me."

"But..." Flash grimaced slightly, leaning towards the driver's side of the car. "Sunset, what's with the—?"

"I don't like the goo-goo eyes she's giving you."

Flash actually laughed. "Goo-goo eyes?"

Sunset's eyes rivaled the last flame of the day. "Don't laugh at me."

He swallowed hard. "I... I wasn't—"

"I know when a girl's crushing hard on a guy, and from the looks of it she's just days away from trying to make a move on you."

"Pffft. Flower Print? Sunset, you've got it all wrong." Flash smiled reassuringly. "And even if I was interested—which I'm not—you know I wouldn't even remotely encourage—"

"Do you still talk to her?"

"Uhhhhhhh... yeah?"

"Then you're encouraging her. Trust me. I've been there."

"Really?"

Sunset huffed. Heavily.

"S-sorry! What I meant was..." Flash waved his hands, winced, and sighed. He rubbed the back of his neck. "Sorry, Sunset."

"If you care at all about our relationship, you'll stop hanging out with Flower Print."

"Yes, Sunset."

"And if she insists on seeing you, then make the message clear. You're my boyfriend. That overstepping heifer's not even remotely in your league. Simple as that."

"I..." Flash leaned his arms on his knees as he stared down the road. "Y-yes, Sunset."

"Now, about the Fall Formal happening in a month: I think it's time that we got the school body excited. Don't you agree?"

Flash merely nodded.

"The way I see it..." Sunset Shimmer bore her first smile of the evening. She laid back against the hood, smirking up at the stars. "...nothing gets the alumni more pumped up than when you and your band friends rock the auditorium. So how about you and the boys stage a surprise concert after school tomorrow in the auditorium? Just be sure to tell everyone that it was my idea. That's most important, you see."

Flash nodded again. He stared directly forward with dull eyes.

The last glimpse of light disappeared beyond McCracken Trail, and everything beyond it—including the mountains and the trees—was darkness.

Today

There was a time when Flash Sentry used to cry. He was currently at a loss to remember what it felt like.

Instead, he lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. The rough texture of the room grew more and more visible in the merciless morning light. He had felt the shadows of night slipping away between sighs. He glanced at the clock every now and then, counting the hours he had left to attempt sleep... the hours he was wasting—just like the hours he lost in the daylight. All a waste.

Now, he lay on his side, staring at his bedside clock with solid deadpan. He watched as the last hour melted into minutes. By the time it was thirty seconds until his inevitable alarm, he raised his hand—but let it hover just above the plastic apparatus. He waited for the bitter irony of the moment to finally fall across his skull like a sledgehammer. He always waited.

With a loud buzz, the alarm blared. He slapped it off within milliseconds, then swung his stiff body until he was sitting half naked on a gray bed in the gray shadows of a gray room. There, he hunched over, pressing his hands to his knees, delaying the first muscle pull of the day. He stared down at his feet planted limply against the carpet, feeling as small as those toes, almost longing for when everything else was smaller.

The red digits on the clock ticked once... twice. With a defeated sigh, Flash forced himself up and limped towards the bathroom. He took a shower; he didn't know why. When he came out, he ignored everything but his hair, and even that earned a few comb-swipes at best. He had given up on hair gel countless months ago.

Flash tossed on a jacket he had worn for the past six days—as well as a shirt and jeans he had worn the past three. Once that was taken care of, he made the quest for breakfast. He wasn't the first soul awake. His parents were up and about: shuffling, wordless bodies. They orbited opposite ends of the family kitchen, too tired to manage a single word—which was a good thing. Their wind caught up with them in the evening, as did their daily frustrations, and Flash couldn't wish for the walls of the house to be any thicker. He walked between them like a scalpel might wriggle through molasses, and once he had snatched a banana or two, he bolted out as quickly as he could. All that was left to do was fling a threadbare tattered backpack over his shoulder as he embraced the cold morning with a breath of relief.

That breath ended when he boarded the bus to school. There was a time when he sat in the center with four to five regular morning "travel buddies." In the months that passed—and beyond the most recent summer vacation that divided the mediocrity like a ravine—he had found the smiling faces growing fewer and fewer, and so he drifted away further and further until the muddled current placed him squarely in the very back. Very few students complained about the boy's presence; most were too young and skittish to challenge his seniority, as oddly-placed as it was. Everyone else was a freshman or sophomore, from Flash's count.

So it was that Flash Sentry enjoyed a tiny seat all to himself, situated beside the emergency exit with a large red handle that taunted him in the morning sunrise. He looked forward and saw nothing but the backs of many half-sleeping heads. So he followed suit, blissfully closing his eyes until the bus came to a halt, hydraulics screeching—and he was lurched back to the necrotic moment.

Flash wandered the corridors, and the shadows followed him. He kept close to the cinderblock walls, his eyes glued to their glazed seams. They led him to homeroom, where he sat in the far rear corner without mishap. He was early these mornings; he was always early. It would be a good twenty minutes before the rest of the classroom filled up. Flash spent the time ignoring the teacher and being ignored right back. It was fine.

Absent-mindedly—perhaps—Flash chose to pull his planner out. All of the days were empty, but it didn't stop him from flipping to the frontmost page. "Congratulations On Your Senior Year!" it cheered in faded economic print. Flash almost remembered a time when the phrase "Senior Year" excited him. Here, on the other side of such pretentious aspiration, all he knew was dread. It turned out to be a very dull, diluted thing, after all. Something he could time his steps to, even if they were all aimed downhill.

He flipped to the current day. He only knew it was "current" because there was a bookmark there. It was a note—a printout, folded up, jammed half-heartedly into place. His guidance counselor had sent him an "urgent" request for a meeting. No doubt it had something to do with Flash's poor attendance, his regular tardiness, and a myriad of sinking grades. The teenager felt a brief, sharp stab to the heart when he thought about all of the college applications he should have sent out months ago... but hadn't even started to peruse. There was a week or two when he relented to the necessary process, sacrificing a single afternoon to put in the minimal effort—if only to satiate half his nagging household. It didn't stop the arguments between his mother and father at night. Nothing could. One person blaming the other: an insipid pile of animosity and regret, vacuum-sealed in the sacred pretense of monogamy.

The breaths of the moment grew long, liquid. And before he knew it, homeroom had ended. Flash shoved the bookmark back in place—folded and forgotten—and placed the mostly empty planner back into his bag... where it nearly fell through to the floor due to a hole he had been too lazy to patch up over summer vacation. Nevertheless, he slung the thing over his shoulder, stood up, and joined the zombie shuffle of the crowd—making sure to take up the very rear.

Flash Sentry kept his head down. He had to. Every chance he took to look up risked noticing someone whom he once recognized from a past life, or—even worse—them recognizing him. He had experienced it before. The blinks. The squints. The abject glares of those he once braved talking to. And even though—with time—those stabbing expressions grew duller as his skin grew thicker, he still shuddered at the thought of experiencing the feeling... the only feeling he had any faculty to recall. Something deep-rooted and nauseating.

It was a period later—maybe two—while he was shuffling between classes... that he noticed a familiar flicker of flame. Yellow and orange and alive with empathy. Such an angelic aura was peculiar, haunting in its stark contrast to the past—and when her turquoise eyes flashed his way, he made sure to scamper past a row of lockers... away from her gaze... away from all of their gazes. Even from a distance, he could hear their giggling voices. The bedlam of a busy Canterlot High hallway virtually shrank to give room for the sacred seven: the saviors of the campus three times over. Their laughter rattled down the corridor with the grace of a flock of doves. Flash didn't look, but he could feel—he knew it—seven pairs of eyes glaring his way. Studying. Detesting. Ostracizing.

The teenager heard laughter. He looked to his left. A clique of fellow seniors standing at a juncture of hallways scraped him with sly, off-angle glances. They were smiling: devilish little smirks. Words were exchanged—muted and mischievous—and the chuckles doubled. The scraping eyes and tittering contempt. Then they turned his backs to him: revolving doors shut, a shroud falling. Forgetting.

Flash inhaled it all in, accepting whatever meager portion of emptiness he was allowed. What he was worth. He walked along in a slump as the world gathered dust around him.

That afternoon, the final bell rang. The denizens of high school left in droves, groups, and gossiping gaggles.

Flash walked alone. He found his spot on the bus: his body forming punctuation deep within the lethargic bookends of the day. Most students had afternoon activities, which left several seats empty between him and the driver. He was fine with it; he was fine with most things. He stared out the window and imagined that he was gliding on ice. If he squinted hard, the sidewalks and garbage flowed in both directions, and he could no longer tell if he was arriving in the morning or leaving in the afternoon.

He found out the truth the very moment he limped through the front door to his empty house, as he always did, and the utter desolation of the shadowed rooms baited the tinnitus from his ears. He took a long liquid minute in shuffling to his room. Taking his shoes off, he was greeted with the sour smell of socks worn well into their fifth day. It was the first sign in ten hours that something deep inside him was alive. He instantly washed it away with a long shower. Minutes outraced mildew. Flash knew that he was wasting warm water. He stared down at his soaking feet until the fog blinded him, and only then did he leave that humid domain of condensation and guilt.

Lurching back into his room, cocooned in shadows, Flash found himself at a crossroads. He could either do his homework or nap the afternoon away. Flash's grades had been slipping away ever since the start of his Senior Year. If he didn't shape up soon—get back on the road to diligence—he knew that his college aspirations would be completely and utterly shot to hell.

Flash fell into bed, curled under the covers, and beckoned sleep. The fact that it never came only drove the dagger of guilt even deeper, and yet he didn't move from that spot. He hadn't eaten since breakfast, which was fine. The ache of hunger would be a brief, merciful distraction from the prolonged silence.

Far across from him, a pair of eyes blinked, enshrouded in dust and gloss. Flash found himself staring at his computer monitor in the far corner of the room, at the reflection of a hormonal shell of a human being. He couldn't remember the last time he had turned the thing on—that he last gazed through the digital window at once-friends and decaying acquaintances. It must have been sometime in early summer—before the trip to Camp Everfree. Before he tasted of the great hush. Before the ravine had been ripped open. There could very have well been things in life that Flash deserved; all he knew anymore were the things that he didn't. Exhaling, he rolled over until his shoulder faced the corner, and he closed his eyes. He didn't know how long he would be "napping," for. In his head, he set the time to the yelling voices.

He only wished he was kidding. Seven o'clock sharp, once both cars had long arrived in opposite corners of the driveway, the bickering began. And the arguing continued—in roller coaster waves of mild threats and broken promises—until both Flash's mother and father had retreated to opposing rooms and network news channels to sit and sulk. That was when he knew it was safe enough to stalk the kitchen for a snack. He did so quietly; Flash had long learned the consequences of doing otherwise. Sometimes, all it would take was a simple glance that would cause one parent to do something and the other to take it as a mixed signal and the first to overreact and the second to dramatize and soon enough the argument had melted into a finger-pointing diatribe on who had "failed their son" the most—and Flash didn't even have to finish a single sentence. Those were the good evenings. Not once did his mother or father ever think to throw the blame at him, to shout at their teenage son and hurl insults at his laziness and incompetence. Flash often wished that they would, for at least then it would be something.

This evening, they were as silent as ever. Flash followed his breaths, low and stealthy and cautious. He yanked something from the kitchen, something unhealthy no doubt, but it would do. He returned to his room, and somewhere between the lingering and the nibbling, with the house settling in a gargantuan black hush all around him, he embraced slumber—and a very dreamless place at that. Flash couldn't complain; the blankness was more comforting than any pillow, and it was all over long before his regrets could form lines against the canvas. Soon, he awoke—hours before he meant to—and that's when the pondering began... and the true weight of terror that each meandering thought carried, with no hope of catharsis.

The morning peeked in, blinding as ever. Flash saluted it—and milliseconds after the alarm blared, he slapped the clock, rolled his stiff body up...

...and sighed once again.

Tomorrow

Flash stepped off the bus, and the first thing he saw was her. His heart twisted—or perhaps it was his stomach. Either way, the bile rose, and he twisted his neck until her violet-streaked hair was far out of his gaze... the high ponytail and the alien reading glasses. She said something—carried aloft by the melodic voice of an angel, and he hated himself for the dull thuds he still felt through his aching chest.

Then another voice replied from afar, empathetic with a hint of fiery passion. It melted the awkwardness away, replacing it with an old familiar pain. By the time Flash sensed Sunset's head tilting, he had long hurried up the steps. He could feel the eyes of the other six ripping sword-slices down his back. If he stayed any longer, they would pierce an artery. He couldn't give anyone the satisfaction, although Flash no longer knew exactly who was preying on him anymore or why. When he glanced into the shadows, he saw eyes glaring back. Folded arms and books being hugged indignantly to supple chests. Flexing forelimbs and furrowed brows. Cell phone casings pretending to hide stone faces. Flash never looked long enough to ever fill the rest of those shady portraits. He knew that if he allowed that to happen, he would freeze in place, and there was no telling how long it would take to pick all the shattered parts back up—although he no longer knew the reason to preserve them.

He ignored the rising waters by keeping his head empty, his mind buoyant. He rode the bobbing surface of the first few hours, and soon he was limping his way towards third period. His mind was meandering the same familiar stain he had come to memorize across the ceiling of the science wing—when he bumped into a tall middle-aged man wearing an even taller suit.

"Mr. Sentry!" the faculty member exclaimed with genuine surprise. In a plastic blink, he slapped on a fake smile. "Flash! I'm so glad I ran into you!"

The teenager winced so hard that he nearly imploded. Somehow—miraculously—he summoned a convincingly deep voice from the far corners of his lungs. "Mr. Turner. My bad. I... uhm... I need to get to my Biology class—"

"Did you get my memo, Flash?" the guidance counselor asked, his voice full of plastic merriment.

Flash rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding Time Turner's imploring gaze. "I... uhm..." He glanced aside—instantly wishing he hadn't. Boys and girls drifted by. Eyes stabbed his way. There were smirks, snickers. "I... haven't been on the Internet much lately..."

"I had my e-mail delivered to your homeroom late last week! On Friday, remember?"

"Uhm..."

"Anyways, we need to talk." A warm hand slapped heavily on Flash's shoulder. There was a wink. Flash smelled cheap deoderant and a whiff of microwaved spaghetti. "It's about your future, young sir. Did you ever get a chance to pursue those college applications you sent in?"

"Another time, perhaps. I... really need to get to my Biology class, Mr. Turner. If I'm late again..."

"Heh! It's alright, Mr. Sentry! I'll sign you a hall pass!"

"Oh... huh..."

And by the next blink—or third—Flash found himself sitting awkwardly in a chair across from Counselor Turner's desk. Metal balls collided with each other in the corner, suspended by wire frames. Flash imagined a million sibling spheres doing the same in his gut, and all of them laced with rusted iron.

"...it's about your application to the Rainbow Falls Musical Academy," Time Turner continued, although Flash couldn't at the moment remember where he had begun—or how. "Now... they are accepting entry fees that—from the look of things—are well within your price range, but it's not about how you get in, Mr. Flash." The guidance counselor shuffled through a few papers, slapping them against the desktop for punctuation. "But it's how you stay the course."

"Uh huh." Flash scratched his elbows, hunching over, shrinking deeper and deeper into the plush chair seat. Dead cats hung off the posters. Flowers that withered days after they were photographed, and months before their motivational phrases were slathered against them. "I'm pretty sure I can keep my attendance up for... y'know... a college degree... and stuff."

"It's not all about attendance, Mr. Flash, and even still I'm sorry to say that that has been a rather... challenged area for you as of late." Time Turner cleared his throat. "But if you can't make regular payments each semester, you can kiss those entry-level courses good-bye."

Flash squinted up at him. "I've got the money to ride, Mr. Turner."

"From what? A job?" The guidance counselor raised an eyebrow. "Or from selling your car?"

Flash bit his lip. He wondered how Time Turner knew. But then—with a pallid stab to his spine—he felt twice as stupid as he did walking into that office. Of course, Mr. Turner knew. Everyone had to know. The rides Flash took on the bus. How he walked everywhere these days—even around town—when scarcely a year ago he cruised from street to street in some of the slickest wheels known to Canterlot High. At some point, he realized he didn't really need something so flashy, plus a major gas guzzler. So he sold it and put the resulting funds into a savings account. Of course, that's all that Flash did. Afterwards, there was no progress, no college-hunting, no pursuit whatsoever of a college application or even the semblance of a career. Flash could still play music, and that meant something—or so he told himself... if only to excuse the waste he had made out of an expensive gift from his parents that he only used for two-thirds of his junior year. He gave it up as a proactive gesture, to make them happy. Of course, it only made the arguments and shouting matches double, and still neither of them blamed him exclusively.

After building a mountain out of failures, Flash was beginning to wonder how guilt made its way through the labyrinthine caverns to chill his veins. No wonder it always felt so numb... so diluted... except for abrasively lucid moments like this eye-twitching staredown with the middle-aged golem before him.

"...too late to attempt an athletic sports degree," Time Turner was muttering, and that was how Flash realized he had missed an entire five minutes of conversation. The counselor slapped an old, worn scrap of paper in his grasp. "Remember that you had written down here as an alternative? Perhaps if you had pursued extra-curricular physical education activities this semester and last, then maybe you could have paved a fine road to applying at Crystal University or North Lake Academy. They have spectacular athletic scholarships being offered. Tell me, Mr. Flash, was there a specific reason why you took on so many psychology electives this semester?"

Flash blinked hard, his head reeling. "Paved... road...?" He nearly belched at the forced analogy.

Time Turner sighed heavily—the first honest breath exchanged between them since Flash arrived there. "Flash..." He folded his fingers neatly together and leaned forward. "...I think it's high time you got your priorities straight. I'm doing my best to help you." He raised an eyebrow. "But at this rate—if you're not careful—you're going to waste these precious young years left ahead of you."

Flash lingered in confusion, pondering as to why Time Turner was speaking so ardently about "waste" in the future tense. The thought perplexed him minutes later, even as he shuffled down the lunch line with an empty tray, waddling elbow to elbow with other seniors while his eyes watered from steam rising off trays of cooking grease.

"My invisibility cooldown would run out, and—I swear to Christ—every goddam time he'd snipe me!" rasped an acne-faced thing to Flash's right. An old lady's crinkled hand scooped noodles up with a fork, slapped it into a styrofoam tray, and slathered it with chunky tomato sauce. "From across the map too! I tried to report his ass, but the damn faggot must be hacking the server or some shit."

"Goddam try-hards," muttered a masculine voice down the line. He wheezed against the sneeze guard, stifling a cough. Flash could catch the glint of a vape stick peeking out from his backpack's side pocket. "We should catch that retard streaming and SWAT-call his ass the next time he tries that."

"Hahaha! Yeah!"

A half-empty tray of spaghetti rattled atop Flash's tray, staining his wrist. He breathed out, catching a flicker of light to his left. A student was sporadically reading news headlines on her phone, swiping through apocalyptic one-liners: Pakistan and India doing military drills on their borders, North Korea hanging a tourist, some coral reef dying off the coast of Borneo... or perhaps it was Indonesia. Flash blinked, and the news was replaced with a gif of Beyonce's flouncing derriere along with several cartoon drops of defecation.

"You know what you need?" To Flash's right, someone was munching on his food before he paid for it. "A lag-spike button. Torrent the latest Mazerunner movie or some shit. Just to mess up his game, y'know? Give the jewtard something to sob into his mommy's tits about."

"On his own server?"

"Hell yeah! Send a message! About time those wall-hacking Twitchfags watched their subscriber count plummet!"

"Heheheh!"

Flash paid for his meal with a few crinkled bills. The moment passed in a tense breath as he felt his wallet flatten inside his jacket pocket. He imagined his old sports car disentegrating one wheel at a time. Time Turner's brown eyebrows lingered before him like a phantom. He walked through, balancing plastic spaghetti on a plastic tray. He passed a pair of blonde figures flanking the entrance to the lunch hall.

"The thing I don't get is—if the pipeline is good for everyone—then why all the lame protests?" blathered one.

"Yeah! I know! I mean... just how many Navajo or whoever are left anyways?" The other tossed her hairs, struggling with the wi-fi. "This is the Twentieth-Century. Just fucking die out already."

Laughter and four letter words. There was spilled ketchup and a vomit stain on the floor. Flash walked around it; he walked around all of it. The lunch room smelled the same, but it had a different shape each day. It was only a matter of time, but Flash would eventually find its lone corner—hidden and obscured—and at last he'd be sitting.

He kept his eyes forward. It pained him to side-step, for that meant granting more faces to his peripheral—and already he could sense the scrutinous eyes scraping him, trying to find the polish that had faded from the once-popular teenager's surface over the past few months. So many conversations unfinished since Camp Everfree. So many palms left hanging. Flash struggled not to drown in the bedlam in between, and his ears ached with every turn.

"Just look at what Trixie Lulamoron is wearing today. Her family's sooooo on food stamps."

"If I was in charge, I'd send in our finest bombers. Wipe all those shitty towns off the desert. Damn waste of oil, y'know what I mean?"

"But—like—if you manage to get the condom out an hour later, you won't get pregnant, right?"

"Are the bleeding hearts running this country fucking stupid or something? God made you to either piss standing up or piss standing down. It's not that hard to understand, people!"

"I know exactly why he unfriended me. And you know what? I'm not taking back those comments. He can post all the selfies from the gun range that he wants. Stinkin' fascist will end up with a hole in his head someday."

"I'll tell you why he's still quarterback. 'Cuz he's banging the head coach's daughter! You see what that bitch wears? Hell, I'd be banging her too!"

Flash's steps slowed slightly. He clenched his eyes tight, weathering the moment.

On the other end of the tunnel, he heard a soft voice—kind and melodic: "I only have the science wing left. Once I'm done putting up all of the fliers, I'll be more than happy to help practice for the new concert."

"Oh, Fluttershy, darling!" Rarity's voice returned. "You needn't do all that hard work on your own!"

"It really isn't all that much left to do..."

"Nonsense! Any help we can lend you means more time you get to spend with the rest of us! And we so do adore your presence. Isn't that right, girls?"

"Heck yeah!" Rainbow's voice rasped. "Count me in! We'll make sure all of Canterlot High catches wind of your gerbil fundraiser!"

"Hamster."

"Whatever."

Flash breathed a little more easily. He even braved a glance at the warm table—

"Actually—even though gerbils and hamsters are completely different species—using a generalized term such as 'Rodent Roundup'' could be more eye-catching!" A pair of violet fingers adjusted glasses over an adorable, perky smile. "I've been studying up on advertising in my Economics class. Sometimes it pays to appeal to a shallow attention span!" The twin lenses glinted in Flash's direction.

He winced, nearly tossing his food as he used the tray to block his face. He pivoted from the table—from her. His shoulders were already shuddering by the time that Sunset's voice joined in:

"I... think it's not really that big of a deal what it's called. Fluttershy's long finished the design process, and she's sent out fliers like this plenty of times before. If you ask me, I say we just leave this in Fluttershy's court."

"Really?" That nerdy voice squeaked. "Is she playing tennis or something?"

Pinkie Pie laughed—leading the rest of the table to giggle. "Oh Twilight..."

"What???"

"Surely you meant to say that in jest, darling."

"I'm really curious! What does Fluttershy's court have to do with her fliers—ohhhhhhh."

"A little slow on the draw, sugarcube. Might wanna rest yer book-readin' eyes and use yer ears more often."

"Look. I know this is only my second semester here, but... I-I'm still getting used to regular conversations... y'know... with friends."

"And we're here to help you, Twilight." Sunset. Warm. Kind. "You're not alone."

Flash stared at the moving floor, imagining turquoise eyes and fiery hair. He stumbled upon a petite pair of sandals facing him and was forced to look up—but not that far. "Uhhhh..." He truly, honestly struggled with a mess of conflicting memories as he studied a teenage girl's face. "Yes?"

Her expression was deadpan—with a hint of passive consternation beneath those plump cheeks. Suddenly—and with curious grace—she bore a doll-like smile. "Hiya, Flash." The voice had a certain chirpiness to it. It was an instant reminder—like a ringtone.

"Flower Print!" Flash blinked, his fingers kneading the edges of is tray as he held it between them—awkwardly. He took a few lagging seconds to put on a smile. He somehow knew he would regret it. "How you've been? Uhm..." He fidgeted. "Calculus treating you okay?"

"I finished all of my math courses last semester," she said bluntly. "No thanks to you."

Flash's throat itched. "Oh..." He glanced aside at the rows of hunched bodies and greasy food dishes. "Uhhh..."

"There's a new music competition coming up," Flower Print said, standing tall despite her stout stature. Her blouse was fiery as her tone—the collar flaring. "The Stylin' Summer Shakedown. All of Canterlot High's coolest bands will be performing." She arched an eyebrow like one would cock an arrow. "You're going to be playing your guitar on stage again, won't you?"

"I... erm..." Flash sighed, his eyes drifting earthward as the breath carried the somber confession out of him. It almost felt like the first time he had the courage to say it to anyone. "I'm... no longer performing in my band... my former band."

"Oh?" Flower Print hummed.

"Yeah... Hank? Kyle? Chris?" Flash shrugged. "We... don't exactly hang out much anymore."

"Yeah." Flower Print nodded. "I know." She nodded again. "Hank told me."

Flash's eyes darted up. "He... did?"

"Yeah. We're going out together now."

"Really?" Flash tilted his head aside. "Since when?"

"Ever since Camp Everfree... though I don't how you'd even notice. Hank says you up and ducked out of all their jam sessions," she huffed, folding her arms. "Lamed out and became a total ghost."

"Errrr..."

"But it doesn't matter. Hank can play both rhythm and bass. He's even teaching me the strings every time we hang out. This Saturday, he's taking me to the Silver Ampitheatre out by the boardwalk."

"Oh yeah?"

"Oh yeah." That said, Flower Print leaned forward with a caustic smirk. "So... who's out of whose 'league' now?"

Flash bit his lip. He leaned back from the girl who was a full foot shorter than him. His ears tickled with Sunset's voice from a distance. There was laughter. Warmth. The scant, rippling edges of a volcano. He sighed heavily, a frown forming from deep within. There were a million things he didn't need to say, but that didn't stop him from pulling one from beneath an invisible hat.

"You're asking me?" Flash muttered. "I'm a ghost, remember? How would I know... or care?"

Flower Print blinked. A deer in headlights, for she hadn't expected that. The lapse in venom didn't last more than a few seconds, and suddenly that deer grew horns. She slapped both hands up with a grunt, knocking Flash's tray into his chest.

The boy stumbled back as his t-shirt and jacket were utterly doused with spaghetti noodles and tomato sauce. The loud clap of his falling tray attracted half the lunch room's faces, and the following outburst lassoed the rest:

"You're such an unbelievable asshole, Flash Sentry!" Flower Print barked, veins showing beneath two chins. "How could you possibly say such a thing?!"

"Flower Print!" Flash winced, shaking the Italian detritus off his wrists as he reeled. Panicked eyes mirrored a cyclonic sea of blinking faces. "I just meant—!"

"I don't care! I can't believe I ever did!" She stomped her foot and clicked her tongue, tears forming on command. "When will you ever stop being so full of yourself?! Is it any wonder that nobody here fucking likes you?!" And with a pent-up sob, Flower Print turned around, covered her face, and scrambled away.

Flash Sentry stood alone, his arms dangling like a tomatoed crucifix over ground zero. He heard muttering voices. Glancing aside, he saw bored glares and shaking heads. The only thing that unnerved the boy was how long those faces remained glued to him. A cold lump formed in his throat. He heard other mutters—softer and more harmonious. In his peripheral, he could sense seven colorful faces glancing his way. He looked down at his feet, at the crater of noodles and sauce.

Flash simply sighed, stepped over the litter, and made a bee-line for the hallway outside.

Fourth period was an adventure. Flash sat in the middle of the classroom, battle-scarred with tomato sauce. Every student spent the entire lesson staring at him. The teacher said nothing, choosing instead to go about her long-winded lecture as she sketched and sketched on the chalkboard. She didn't want to be there any more than Flash did. The teenager tried not to pass out from the sheer absurdity.

The bell rang and Flash sped out the door. He rushed through the halls, making straightway for his locker, hoping against hope that there'd be a spare gym shirt from weeks ago that he could wear like a monk's shroud to cover his shame.

He had just nearly finished spinning the combination lock when he heard a familiar voice shouting from behind: "Hey! Sentry!"

Whoever hollered was angry. Raging. Flash stupidly turned around.

He saw Hank's snarling face, followed immediatley by Hank's sailing fist.

Flash took the punch like a pro. Somehow, that made the whole thing twice as embarrassing. He clutched his chin, speaking through the numb cloud spreading through his jaw: "Yo! Dude! Chill!"

Hank simply threw another fist. This time, Flash was even less prepared, and the impact sent him stumbling back against the lockers. A pair of squeaking freshmen scattered while the rest of the students formed a gawking barricade a few blurry steps away.

"Hank!" Flash spat, feeling an iron hotness dribbling past his molars. He held a hand up—trembling. "Cool it—!"

"Fuck you, I'll cool it!" Hank loomed over him, seething. "Where do you get off treating my girl like that?!"

"Huh?!" Flash's voice legitimately cracked. His lungs heaved. "Like what?!" His body slid up while his vocal chords traveled roads they hadn't touched in months. "Dude. One moment, I'm walking through the lunch room with my tray, and then the next thing I know Flower Print's going ballistic on me—"

"Go to Hell, Flash," Hank grunted, leaning forward with both weapons clenched. "You were being a total shit to her. You were always being shitty to her. Don't think you can get away from this scott-free, asshole!"

"Hank..." Flash sighed, dropping his gaze as he slipped his bangs back. "Back then, I..." He gulped. "Things were different. I was a different guy. And... I mean Flower Print? Hank, I never... I-I mean I would never—"

A sharp eyebrow rose. "Never what?"

Flash clenched his teeth. He stifled a groan and folded his arms. "Whatever—"

Hank's answer was to shove him against the lockers once more with his palm. The other finger was used to point violently into the nape of Flash's neck. "If I catch you so much as looking at my girl again, I'm going to paint the football bleachers with your balls. Got it?"

"Yeah." Flash dribbled unethusiastically. "Got it."

Hank's brow furrowed. His fists shook as he squirmed in place—as if expecting more of a challenge. Perhaps even wanting it. At last, he threw the moment off with an aggrivated shrug and thundered off down the aisle of gawkers. Tense breaths melted, giving away to scoffing titters as every student smiled pathetically in Flash's direction.

Flash rubbed his chin again. As the pain in his face settled, he became reacquainted with his own nostrils—and the sour smell of dried spaghetti sauce. He faintly remembered scrambling to his locker a century ago. He ultimately slumped away without opening it.

Sixth period: the last class of the day. The teacher asked for everyone to turn in their homework assignments. Flash had left his notebook in his locker. The teacher sighed, then gave him a full minute and a half tongue lashing. Flash stared at the floor beneath his desk the whole time.

The rest of the class lurched on in a guilty slump. Flash's heart didn't start pulsing until the last ten minutes. Finally, the long hand of the clock finished its rotation, and the bell rang. Flash left the class first, racing past the teacher's slicing frown. He was nearly to the blissfully bright front entrance when—

"Yo!" Kyle lazily strolled in with his lazy eyes. He stood right in the way. "Flash. Hold up."

"Shit!" Flash spat against the insides of his teeth. He skidded to a stop, huffing. "Look, Kyle, I gotta—"

"Man. Aren't we bro's anymore?" Kyle shrugged, leaning in every direction Flash attempted to skirt away. "We mean so little to you now that you gotta blow past like a damned freight train every time?"

Flash slumped in place with a defeated sigh. "What do you want, Kyle?"

"Just like that! Tch... what's this all about, man?"

"Kyle, please—"

"Yo, Flash, the The Stylin' Summer Shakedown is coming up."

"You don't say."

"Man, we ain't shit without your sick guitar riffs, bro!" Kyle flung his forearms with a half-hearted smirk, digging at Flash's stained shirt and whatever semblance of a heart may have still remained within. "I ain't kidding! The band's a total joke without you, man! Why won't you come back to us? Just for one more jam session!"

"I... can't..."

"The hell you can't! What's the big deal, yo?" Kyle's smile vanished as swiftly as his grace. He frowned through the waft of diesel fumes seeping in from the bus pick-up area outside. Students exited briskly all around the two, making Flash more and more antsy. "Were we getting our 'lameness' all up in your grill or something? Man, we used to chill on stage like icebergs, dawg!"

"Kyle..." Flash rubbed his forehead, squinting at the yellow vehicles outside. "Don't say 'dawg.' I swear, every time that you do—"

"Just for one night! For realsies! Hank sucks every time he gets off the bass, and poor Chris is hammerin' away for nothing! We need you, man! I swear—we'll have the competition in the bag!"

"I... I-I..." Flash winced as he saw the buses pulling away, one by one. He stumbled forward, shivering. "I just can't..."

"Why not?"

Flash bolted past him. "I sold my guitar, okay?!" he lied.

"You what?!"

"I gotta go, Kyle—"

"Dude, not cool!" A stronger grip than Flash expected spun him back ground. Kyle stared daggers, his ears turning red. "Just like that—you abandon us? What gives you the friggin' nerve? We depended on you man! How come you had to bail on your homies like that?! I mean... shit... you wanna crawl into a hole and die—do it on your own time!"

Flash's face contorted. "... ... ...do you ever hear yourself, dude?"

"Yo, at least I've still got buddies who will listen to me." Kyle waved his forearms again. "What the hell have you got these days?"

Flash said nothing.

Kyle squinted at the other boy's chin. He nodded. "Hank do that?"

Flash sighed, avoiding his gaze. "Yeah."

"Tch..." Kyle backstepped, arching an eyebrow. "Man, Flash... you've become a total pussy." He dug his hands into his pockets, turned, and shuffled off.

Flash blinked. Then—with a gasp that shook him out of the awkwardness—he spun and rushed outside...

...only to come to a scuffling stop in front of a completely empty bus lane.

"Ass!" Flash hissed through his teeth. He looked left and then right. There was no golden shuttle in sight. He felt like cussing again, but just like so many other things in his life—he failed. He closed his eyes, fuming... fuming... and then—at last—the anger was over.

It was the first kind of passion he had felt in as long as he could remember, and he was almost sorry that it was gone.

His backpack draped in his grip as he lurched forward, shuffling around the edge of the campus. Off to the side, he could hear the well-timed chants of the football team as they ran laps beyond a metal fence. The track and field team was performing warm-ups in the grass. Cracked open windows of the school building allowed band music to waft out, filling the air with charisma, purpose, life.

Flash got a taste of what he was missing, and now he hated missing the bus even more.

He followed the seams in the sidewalk, and they took him to the front entrance. He heard the flapping of plastic in the afternoon breeze, and his tired eyes finally lifted.

Yellow construction tape had been erected cautiously around the front courtyard's statue. To any outsider driving by, the scene looked like nothing more than a statue that needed refurbishment ever since the marble prancing horse atop it had inexplicably fallen apart. But Flash knew better. Every student did.

It was a cataclysmic torrent of magic that shattered the statue. A mysterious force from another world was the actual reason for the destruction, and it had ironically ruined a piece of the foundation that housed the secret portal within. Perhaps there was refurbishment to be had—to restore the long lost mascot of Canterlot High. In truth, though, the tape was there as a temporary measure until Principals Celestia and Luna—along with Sunset Shimmer and her fellow friends—had come up with a safe plan to block access to the portal completely. Flash imagined an iron fence, or a gate, or even a mausoleum. He imagined many things; he had to. The secret "committee" that had been formed to ascertain a solution for the doorway to beyond was assembled without him. Not that he didn't have a chance to take part. The group was organized at Camp Everfree, or so he had heard... or thought he had heard. In truth, that was the time when Flash Sentry started falling asleep before daylight... and waking up before the morning dawn. Alone.

There was a time when things felt brighter. Flash was certain of it, though it all was obscured beyond a familiar fog now. All it had taken was one shove, one cold truth forged into a club that knocked him upside the head. At the time, it felt necessary... even healthy. But now... Flash couldn't pass any true judgment. He only knew that one moment he was talking to Sunset Shimmer, and the next moment he was talking to himself... silently... in a conversation that had no puntcuation.

It was difficult to mean something when he knew that he never actually meant anything in the first place.

The gateway to the other world was dangerous... off-limits... and strictly forbidden to all students. Flash remembered this the moment that he saw his wide, blinking eyes, and that's how he realized he had drifted close enough to the foundation see his own reflection. The boy gasped, stepping back, nearly tripping over the yellow tape circled tightly around that statue's base. He looked up, squinting at the bright afternoon sky where the silver legs of a prancing horse used to be. For all the good that magic had done, it sure performed a lot of destruction to get things to such a "harmonious" point. Flash briefly pondered how better off the world would be if he was obliterated too.

And when he had run out of things to ponder—which didn't take very long at all—he hoisted the empty weight of it all over his shoulder... and made the long walk home.

Leave

Flash arrived home late, and he didn't even have the liberty of feeling miserable. His mother and father were already three rounds into their latest shouting match. Flash calmly, ritualistically shut the windows to the house before limping towards his room. The closed door did little to silence the argument beyond, and the whole debacle rolled on for the better part of an hour. Eventually, his parents' boredom outweighed their anger, and Flash was left wondering why the unhealthy conversation didn't end with a healthy gunshot—and then he wondered nothing at all, but simply lay in shadowed silence, measuring the latest echoes of his daily failure.

In place of his parents' voices, Flower Print's rose to the surface. It carried with it a ringing tonality—much like the sound in Flash's ears right after receiving the second punch from Hank that afternoon. Flash realized that his life was a worn out tire, boring and circular, and yet rolling over the same old nail again and again. When he sought uniformity beyond the snickers and grimaces, all he could see were the disapproving frowns of teachers... the hairy forest of Time Turner's eyes where many lurking shapes lay in wait. It was only nine months before this final term of educational imprisonment was over, assuming he didn't flunk. When Flash tried to think of the freedom that lay beyond, all he could picture were the melodramatic images he'd steal glances of from internet news apps: cars on fire, volcano plumes, police men with pepper spray. It felt as though high school was the last organ of safety before he was finally excreted into the frying pan. What silly iron that the fluids surrounding him on the outside would be so bitter.

The house shook again; his parents had a final round in them before the evening was done. Flash turned over. He saw a gray shroud hanging over the back of his chair. The spaghetti stain stood out in the moonlight. He could smell the sourness from there, could feel the sting of Flower Print's tears from another world away. It didn't matter if the scorned young woman had faked the sobs on the spot or not—they were still more real than Flash would ever be. He envied her, in a way. He coveted the assurance she had to be right about something, even when it was wrong.

Flash closed his eyes. Fiery red hair flickered before him, shielding an adorkable petite figure with large-framed reading glasses. She was not the woman he thought she was. She was only half at best—but still more real... more real than anything Flash had ever been blessed with. That summer, at Everfree, he had been slammed in the gut—like a friend would righteously pummel him. He had been told to let her go. He agreed, although he never told Sunset the cost. It was difficult to let something go when one had never truly grasped something to begin with, much less oneself. He didn't expect Sunset to understand. But—as Flash well knew—Sunset was familiar with a myriad things that he himself would never understand. Some people simply existed at an inferior level, and after a few short months of wrestling with the emptiness that came with reality, Flash was starting to grasp his own lot in life. He was tempted to share his feelings with others. He was tempted to let former friends and acquaintances into his little world of nothingness. But somehow he knew—or believed he knew—that any such attempt would be a cowardly cop-out... a temptation to lead him back into the bright blinding world of presumption.

The house grew silent again. Flash chased slumber, although he was completely certain he would never find it. If only he was that determined with pursuing his educational future, he thought. And before he had even finished that mental contemplation, Flash answered himself: because unlike sleep, there is no waking up beyond tomorrow. So he surrendered to the sighs and allowed the crimson numbers of the clock to dictate his existence for the next few hours.

When they had run their course, he lurched into the light, eyes bloodshot and lungs bloodier. As usual, his parents were wordless that morning, making the previous night's armageddon laughably pointless. He didn't have the stomach to eat, so he dug out a month-unwashed t-shirt from the hamper, threw it on, and dragged his backpack to the bus stop. He rode to school, frozen solid amidst a sea of nodding heads. One by one, the streetlamps turned off. Morning brought with it the death of imagination, until all that was left was brightness and despair. Flash longed for the fog that haunted his youth, where every shape and color was a mountain of confusion—instead of this ordinary flatness that murdered him one commute at a time.

Life was too short... too spectacularly dangerous and frightening... to spend it all doing things that one didn't want to do.

And before he knew it, Flash was blinking. He felt it—the stillness—and how so very much apart from it his heart was. He tried mimicking such limbo, and to his surprise—it worked. He stood in place, his backpack drooping off his shoulder, as the whole necrotic world surged around him. Bodies, students, moths, all of the accidental insects scurrying from one pointless nugget to another. The current used to tug him, but now it was crashing around him, foaming, like water against solid shoals.

It was ten minutes until homeroom. The entrance to Canterlot High loomed ahead, waiting, inhaling.

Flash turned to his right.

He took steps. He took many steps. He moved against the flow. None of the souls took notice of him; they never took notice of him. Only—this time—it meant something... or perhaps it meant nothing. Whatever the case, Flash had walked past all of the students, all of the faculty, all of the resource officers and the holsters in between. In a startlingly small amount of time, he had bridged a crosswalk... and left the campus of Canterlot High altogether.

The town opened tiredly before him. Flash's eyes searched ahead. He saw familiar blocks at unfamiliar angles. He had wasted so many months speeding around in a stupidly expensive sports car, afforded by his parents' emotional overcompensation. Now he wandered through the fissures of that concrete skeleton, exposed to the smell, the stench of normalcy. Block by block—the flatness inexplicably gave way as he walked up gravel hills and down asphalt slopes. Nevertheless, the mundanity remained—this time blanketed to the buildingfaces, the shop windows, the unpeeling billboards with fake smiles.

One by one, the stores opened beside him, which was the first clue that hours had passed. How tardy was Flash? Was it already second period? Third? There was no time—only walking.

Flash came to an intersection. Traffic was thick now. Fumes filled the air and horns accompanied middle fingers in the urban haze. Eyes fell on him... then off-him. Nobody cared that a teenager was skipping school in the middle of the day. Nobody cared.

Flash looked across the street. A man in ripped denim stood with a cardboard sign. His face was ninety-percent beard and ten percent hope. He stood beside a duffel bag that had done more service than the last two presidents. At one point, his eyes wandered to Flash.

Flash was already looking away. He grimaced—perhaps a bit too close to the surface for comfort—and he took the first opportunity he could to walk down the nearest street and away from all that ripped, stained denim. At another intersection, he encountered a police squad car. He stood with his backpack hanging limply off him, staring stupidly at the windshield. A sergeant in blue blinked at him from inside, blinked at him again, and yawned—before speeding around the bend and straight past Flash with a chirp to his siren. The officer promptly chased a twenty-year-old car with a broken tail light.

Ten empty thoughts later, Flash still found himself wandering, searching. He ended up at the window to an electronics store. Several wide-screen televisions were being shown off at discount prices. News channels showed the ruins of a city full of children—still being bombed. Swimsuit models wrestled in mud. Prescription medication warned of vomiting and diarrhea. People were shot; murderers were acquitted. Temperatures grew hotter and hotter. A cartoon bear advertised cereal.

Flash turned. Roads and roads opened up. One of them—he knew—would take him to McCracken Trail. But—for the first time in his life—he realized that even that wouldn't take him away. Anywhere he went—this town or the next, alive or dead—would have the same heartlessness flickering beyond the glass. There was no stopping the circle.

So he allowed it to roll over the same nail once again. Sweat coated his body and his lungs heaved. He was back at campus. The front courtyard was empty. Perhaps Flash knew—or he didn't know—but it was about to get a lot emptier.

He saw it. He stared at it: the foundation. The shiny surface of the pedestal that once housed the school mascot, the unwitting avatar from another world. It lingered there, open and accessible, just beyond flimsy yellow tape.

Open.

Flash still couldn't cry. He wilted instead.

Layer by layer, the weight fell off him.

First went his backpack—slumping to the side in a dull heap.

Then went his jacket, tattered and smelling of wasted days.

He marched forward with remarkable speed, especially considering the unknowable that waited beyond the brink. He pressed one hand forward—and nothing pressed back. The ease with which his limbs slipped through was startling. He rode the jolt in his heart and surfed it, leaning forward, falling, plummeting.

His eyes closed, and for the first time since childhood, he saw the color.

The mirror embraced him, and like any soul unfamiliar with a hug, he simply surrendered...

...until the impending spiral finally gave him the unconsciousness he had struggled so many nights for.

Crystalline

It was black. A different black.

The first thing that Flash felt was fuzziness. Fuzziness inside him, around him, and beyond him. He moved—and the fuzziness moved. He exhaled, and a curious softness spread outward from his lungs. It felt like being hugged from the inside out—but by what?

So, he leaned back in an effort to sit up. This was when he realized his hindquarters were... heavier than before. Limbs flailed as the world toppeled above him. His eyes squinted, catching a glinting flash of shiny light, and then he was wincing from having landed upside down. He lay on his spine across a smooth surface while a lofty ceiling loomed above him—crystalline, cold, and distant.

Flash blinked... then blinked again. Four strange stalks were stretching up around him—all orange. When he reached out to feel them, he saw the stalks flexing and unflexing. It took a few more blinks to realize that these appendages were extensions of him. The only extensions.

"Mrmmmff... hrmmm?" His voice was more than inquisitive. It was softer. Curiouser. He opened his mouth all the way—and felt cold air entering inward with a monumental rush. His maw was stupidly huge, his lungs huger. A slight tremble overwhelmed his figure, sending a shiver up his spine. Amidst the shock, his nerves took over, and he rolled until the world felt right. Four distinct clops anointed the air, and when Flash next flexed his muscles—he found that he was standing up.

Standing on all fours.

He looked down. It was then that he realized that the orange appendages were hooves. Amidst the nonsense, some things were starting to make sense. Flash made sure not to ask too many mental questions, and instead chose to observe, learn, digest.

He straightened his spine—something that he thought would make him stand taller. It didn't. So Flash locked his knees instead, and that achieved it. Now—looking around loftily, gazing—he found that he stood in the center of a massive room with steep crystalline walls. At the far end there was a set of stairs leading towards a lofty doorframe. As he tried to see where the stairs began, his eyes caught a tall elliptical structure situated on a pedestal. It was the only object in the spacious room, and Flash could only guess that it was the thing that brought him here... although it hardly looked anything like the base of the statue in front of Canterlot High.

Canterlot High... even the name tasted queer and alien to his tongue in a place this peculiar. Gone were the concrete and grass of the high school courtyard. The humid air and stench of car exhaust were nowhere to be inhaled. All was still—almost eerily so. If Flash had any decency... any sense of self-preservation at all... he would walk... or trot right back through that portal and reenter the safe, ugly, familiar world that he was born into.

Flash immediately scaled the stairs.

Once at the top, he discovered that the door had no handle. When he pressed his hoof against the frame, he realized that it didn't need one. The door opened easily with an ancient creak. Purple and green light haloed his figure. He squinted, entering an enormous hallway with tall, arched walls of polished crystal. Stained glass windows stretched before him, and doorframes a'plenty. Wherever he was, the building had an incredible sense of antiquity, yet the walls and floor felt shiny and new. There was something very special... very holy about the place. For the first time since trespassing on this side of the mirror, Flash felt a slight pang of shame.

But Flash's hunger outweighed his guilt. He had never felt this way before, and so he capitalized on it.

"Uh... hello?" He crept forward, feeling small... incredibly small. The lofty ceiling of that particular chamber wasn't the only reason. Even when he had looked at the portal downstairs, he had felt far tinier than normal. Right now, with each pensive step forward that he took, Flash couldn't shake loose a precious sensation of delicateness, vulnerability. His heart beat heavily, and the sensation warmed him from the chest and outward, giving him the courage to maintain his pace and vocalizations. "Hello? Is... is anybody there?"

His voice echoed. Nevertheless, the emptiness was far from daunting. The warm colors of the place embraced the sounds of his clopping hooves. If he closed his eyes, he could almost imagine the lights reaching down to hold him tight. There was something about the hallways, the corridors, and the tapestries that made him feel... safe. Wholesome. Healthy.

It was a very... very strange thing to feel well. Flash's teeth started to chatter. Right at this moment, he found one of the large doors cracked open. With no other recourse, he decided to slip through and into the room beyond.

"Hello—?" He froze in place, blinking. The room was circular—as was the table elaborately placed dead-center within the sanctum. A series of thrones surrounded the dais. Seven thrones, to be exact—or perhaps six and a half, if Flash was to describe them. One was considerably smaller than the rest, as if constructed for a child. The backs of the chairs were stupidly tall, and they were adorned with simple, colorful icons: pink butterflies, red apples, blue diamonds.

Flash's eyes narrowed. He looked up.

The roots of a tree curiously dangled from the ceiling like a chandelier. Various gemstones and rubies hung from the jutting branches.

Flash whistled. He looked down.

He was close to the thrones now, as well as the table in their very center. The teenager could make out a series of contour lines etched into the smooth surface of the dais. It appeared to be the makings of a topographical map, Flash thought. But just as he came even closer, an orange pony approached him.

"...!!" Flash jolted to a stop.

The pony likewise stood in place.

Flash cocked his head to the side.

The pony tilted its head in the same direction.

Flash's mouth hung open.

The pony stared at him, exhaling in a sense of wonder.

Breathless, Flash approached the shiny surface of the throne that was facing him. He reached his hoof up to the reflection, watching in dumb amazement as the pony—as he stared back at himself. This was no normal horse. This was the substance of dreams: a crayon drawing come to life. The orange in his coat was immaculate, and as he saw himself stroking his own face and neck and blue hair—he shuddered at how soft he felt... how soft everything felt. He tried to grimace, but his jawline naturally produced a smile. It looked silly. Everything was silly. Bright blue eyes blinked—also silly... and huge... and Flash chuckled. It was nervous laughter, but there was something else to it. Something bright and bubbly... but still slightly subdued.

"No clothes..." He murmured. Then—for the Hell of it—he spread all four of his legs and looked at the lower end of the reflection. What he saw—or rather what he didn't see—somewhat surprised him. "No shit." His eyes traveled up—catching the first signature of imperfection against his orange coat. Curious, he flexed his spine and pelvis. At last—after much fiddling—he presented his flank to the shiny surface of the throne. He saw a curiously familiar image: a yellow lightning bolt set against a blue shield with four tones. It didn't take long for him to make a connection. That image—in some way or fashion—had been constantly present in his life. It was a totem that adorned most of the custom t-shirts he wore—or re-wore—to school. It was also the insignia he had once had emblazoned on the hood of his ill-fated sports car.

And just like that, Flash Sentry sank into the dark mire of the past. He thought of the shadows that had consumed his life—the lonely months and putrid mundanity. So many cold, cold layers of reality that separated him from the shiny brightness currently surrounding the teenager in this alien place.

He sighed, and the reflection sighed. He looked up—and did a double-take. The ears of the pony were drooped, and the eyes large and glossy like a sad puppy's. Just as the surprise racked Flash's body, those two orange ears shot up—adding further startling. He cocked his head in surprise, watching as the ears rotated outward in an almost-feline manner. Flash leaned forward with a suspicious squint, and the ears folded back. He stood in silence for a few seconds, then thought of a Beyonce video he used to have bookmarked on his browser's toolbar. The tips of the ears burned red.

He laughed. Or maybe he giggled? The ears shot up again—perky. Happy. He reached up, licking his muzzle as he pulled one ear. He then let go, watching in the mirror as the ear flopped straight back up. He giggled once more—definitely giggled, then toyed with those fuzzy lobes again and again, watching as the pony grew sillier and sillier.

He was so immersed in this mirthful moment that he hadn't noticed the feminine presence in the room until she was clearing her throat: "Uhm... may I help you?"

The two orange ears shot up like flares. "Gah!" Flash spun around, trembling slightly as he pressed himself back against the throne. "I'm sorry!" He didn't know who he was apologizing to or why; he just felt instantly ridiculous.

The scrunched expression on her muzzle shared the feeling. "Ponies are only allowed in here by appointment," she said. Her coat was soft pink; her eyes softer. She sported a swirling purple mane with a streak of teal. Flash couldn't help but gawk; the pony looked as though she belonged right on the quilt of a baby's crib—along with yellow ducklings and teddy bears. He imagined that if he hugged her, she would fall into tiny clumps of stuffing. It was all in shocking contrast with her disgruntled expression and stern tone. "What are you doing in here?"

"Uhhh..." Flash trembled. He gulped, eyeing her up and down. "Wow... you're bright."

Her stern expression broke under the weight of adorable confusion. "Huh?" She raised a forelimb and tilted back, looking even cuter.

Flash felt bad for not feeling bad. So he cleared his throat and blurted a murmur of honesty: "I'm afraid I'm lost."

"Let me guess." The mare sighed, rolling her eyes. "You saw a window cracked open and just decided to fly your way in. I swear... Rainbow Dash is setting a bad example for all pegasi around here..."

"Fly... in?" Flash blinked. He was too confused to register the familiarity of the name that had just been dropped.

"Are you visiting from Cloudsdale?" she continued, trotting closer. She appeared less and less menacing with each inquisitive step. "Las Pegasus?" The mare exhaled. "I don't know if anyone told you, but in earth pony towns like this one the locals appreciate their property and sanctity of privacy." She smiled gently. "It took me a while to get used to it when I moved here as well."

"How... could I have flown?" Flash asked stupidly.

"Uhm..." Starlight looked at his side. "How else?"

"Hmmm?" Flash flexed muscles that he didn't even know he had. Two sets of feathers stretched and unstretched around him. "Whoah!" He jolted, tail flicking as he observed an orange pair of wings. "Jesus Christ!"

"Er... who?"

"That's... this is..." Flash's trembling eyes reflected quills and fibers. He sucked his breath in. "What's next? A teletubby antenna?"

"Sir, are you... feeling okay?" she asked.

With a sober breath, he turned to face her. "I'm so very sorry for intruding. For real... I never meant to—" His eyes traveled up to her forehead—or more specifically the pink horn in the center of her forehead. "Whoah. Pointy."

"Yes." She nodded, droning: "I would hope so."

"Forgive me. I'm not from around here."

"That much I can tell." Despite the awkwardness of the situation, she reached forward to rest a reassuring hoof on his shoulder. The softness of the moment doubled, and Flash centered himself on the warm words coming from her muzzle. "Let's start over. My name is Starlight Glimmer. I guess you could call me the court wizard of the Castle of Friendship." This statement came across as improvisational, and Flash could tell that it amused her for some reason. She sported a dumb smile as she continued: "What's your name?"

"Uh..." He looked across the throneroom and answered without speaking. "Flash. Flash Sentry."

"Now that's a pegasus name if I ever heard one," she said in a pleasant tone.

He flashed her a look. "You mean you've never heard it before?"

Starlight Glimmer merely blinked. "No." She arched an eyebrow. "Should I have?"

He felt his ears drooping again. He winced at how hard it was to mask his own feelings all of a sudden. "It's... it's not important I guess..."

"Well... I think you'll find that—here in Ponyville—it's easy to make friends and get to know one another." She patted his shoulder. "Just... so long as you don't spontaneously trespass on the property of Princess Twilight Sparkle—"

His ears shot right back up. "Who?"

Starlight leaned back. "Twilight Sparkle. The Princess of Friendship...?"

"... ... ...this is her place?" Flash asked in a dry tone.

"Uhhhhhh..." Starlight nodded. "...yeah?"

Flash's jaws clenched tight. He felt his ears tilting backwards. "I would very much like to see the exit now, please."

Hungry

A massive pair of crystalline doors opened to a bright, verdant landscape. Starlight Glimmer casually trotted ahead of Flash, her horn glowing as she opened the entrance to the palace.

"...and you'll find an Information Center right inside Town Hall."

"Town... Hall...?" Flash murmured, squinting at the blazingly blue sky. The air smelled sweet, sugary... even cavity-inducing.

"Mmmmhmmm." Starlight nodded. "It's the big circular building in the middle of town. You can't miss it." She pivoted to face him with a smile. "Just ask the front desk secretary for a brochure. You'll learn all you need about Ponyville in no time. I... uh... I helped a little bit with the latest print. It was a project that the Princess and I worked on together since we have so many visitors like you showing up as of late." She brushed her mane back and added, "But—eheh—everyone here is more than willing to give you directions all the same, y'know. All you have to do is ask."

"Right..." Flash's vision came into focus. Bright blue pupils reflected looming mountains and lush forests. His ears droops as his muzzle hung open. "Just ask..."

Starlight cocked her head to the side. "Was there a specific place you were headed to when you first stumbled upon the palace? Perhaps I could point you in the right direction."

"I was just... just..." Flash gulped. The phantom weight of schoolbags slumped to the ground in the back of his mind. "...going for a stroll."

That made Starlight squint curiously. Eventually, she cleared her throat and said, "Well, I hope you enjoy the... rest of your walk!" A slight giggle. "Just so long as—y'know—you schedule your next arrival here at the palace. Princess Twilight is more than willing to meet strangers from far and wide who wish to learn lessons on friendship. But—all things considered—making an appointment would be most helpful in the future. I'm sure you'll understand."

"Yeah... totally..."

"Sooooooooo... uh... have a good day then, Mr. Sentry!" Starlight waved. Starlight backtrotted. Starlight produced a glow to her horn.

And the doors behind Flash closed with a thunderous clap.

He was too busy staring at the inexplicably colorful landscape to be affected by the dire punctuation of that gesture. The houses of this "Ponyville" were straight out of a fairy tale book. He saw structures of cobblestone and wood with gold-thatched rooftops. A windmill twirled in the distance while babbling brooks snaked around grassy gnolls. To the far east, colorful tents and market stands dotted the landscape. Much closer, two-story apartments and rustic inns stood, flanked by carriages and apple carts. Flash sniffed, smelling hay and sawdust. In his peripheral, he spotted patches of farmland, and he could see supply wagons full of produce. The village was the very epitome of "country," and he felt like any moment he might see random livestock wandering by.

Flash raised his hoof and rubbed the fuzzy limb against his fuzzy cheek.

He was livestock.

Gulping, Flash stepped forward. His eyes traveled upwards, lost in the blueness. Where there wasn't a cloud, he saw songbirds and butterflies fliting about. The air was filled with mirth, music—although he couldn't tell from where. Perhaps everywhere. He strolled past gardens full of flowers that ranged the entire color spectrum. Squirrels and bunny rabbits scampered fearlessly between the village buildings and the fringes of a massive forest. The more Flash stared, the more the environment stared back—as if smiling—and there wasn't a single ounce of dread to be tasted amongst the entire sweet pie of life.

Once Flash had trotted a slight distance, he turned to look behind him. "Whoah..." He gawked at the palace that he had just exited. It resembled a crystalline tree—or perhaps a ginormous candlelabra. It was simultaneously beautiful and ridiculous, dwarfing any amusement park architecture he had the grace of witnessing up close, both in beauty and in splendor. His eyes couldn't tell where the balconies began and the spires ended, and the slender base of the looming, glinting structure just screamed "absurdity." He gulped hard and murmured to himself: "Friggin'... bigger on the inside than on the outside—"

"Good morning!" a voice chirped.

Flash Sentry flinched. The last time anyone had addressed him that loudly—and suddenly—he had received a right-hook to the chin from Hank. He reeled about... only to see a smiling equine. The creature's muzzle was flat and rigid—like Flash's own reflection. A stallion, Flash reasoned. The pony paused to wave... then continued drawing a wagon full of hay bales towards the far end of town.

Flash watched his movement, then blinked as he saw other quadrupeds lingering about the insides and outsides of the village. A graying mare stood on a balcony, watering flowers. At first sight of Flash, she smiled and waved. Two ponies trotting side by side nodded at him, grinning as they continued a mirthful conversation. Two old stallions sitting on a porch gave him a casual glance, waving briefly before continuing to waste the hour way in idle chat.

Flash stumbled through the scene in a delightful daze. He glanced about, his eyes reflecting more and more bright shapes. Each pony brought with him or her more diverse shades of pastel color. At one point, a group of fillies scampered across the street—chasing circles around him before carrying their foalish game of giggles down an adjacent alley. The air smelled sweet—the denizens sweeter. The villagers' smiles matched the bright pink and blue shades of storefronts and dangling inn signs. Even the damn architecture had wooden heart shapes and butterfly silhouettes. The veritable joy and innocence of the place haunted the teenager. He trembled in his alien body, and yet he couldn't shake the goosebumps loose. Any moment, he might collapse—and he was suddenly more concerned for the shock it would give the locals than any adverse effect it might have on himself.

He needed to sit down. He needed to squat in a chair or a bed somewhere and compose himself. Every minute... every heart beat was a vibration that threatened to rattle his limbs to loose jelly.

So—in an absolute test of this queer dream's structural integrity—Flash made for the brightest, pinkest, most absurd-looking building in sight. Painted wooden effigies of cupcakes and sundaes loomed above him as he passed through the open door. Immediately, he was assaulted by an aromatic wave of angel bread and cake frosting. Ponies sat at bright pink tables, eating at bright pink pastries, giggling with bright pink conversations. With a few limping steps, Flash carried his numb self to a stool positioned before a glass counter. He sat still and silent, his ears tickled by the crisp breeze wafting in through the windows... and the warm scent of baked goods rolling out of a squeaky clean kitchen. His shivers hardly subsided, but at least he was anchored in place. He tried to collect his thoughts as the whole happy world hummed around him.

It didn't help that a plump middle-aged mare shuffled up, chirping in a hauntingly familiar voice. "Why, hello there, stranger! What can I getcha?"

Flash did a double-take. "... ... ...Mrs. Cake?" he dripped.

Her bright eyes blinked at him. "Right you are!" she sing-songed yet again. "Welcome to Sugarcube Corner!"

"This..." Flash squinted at the polished surroundings of the rustic eatery. "This is Sugarcube Corner?"

"That's right! Best bakery in all of Equestria!" The mare giggled pleasantly, blushing slightly. "At least... I like to think so."

Flash craned his neck, gazing at the kitchen. Beyond the edge of a counter, he could make out a yellow horse's body with an orange horse's mane. The color scheme of the stallion was too recognizable to be a coincidence. "Mr. Cake..." He turned and looked over his shoulder. He noticed a young orange-haired mare with a golden coat talking with a country twang. "Golden Harvest..." His mind flickered through an entire yearbook of smiling teenage faces just as he scanned the muzzles and flanks of the patrons seated around him. "...Thunderlane... Raindrops... Berry Punch..."

Mrs. Cake cocked her head to the side. "Did you reserve a table for a party? I could check the guest book for ya!"

He ignored her, and yet he didn't. "A mirror..." Flash chuckled breathily. "The portal... it's a mirror..." His heart warmed. He smiled... then smiled some more. The stallion felt like giggling—if just for giggling's sake.

"Sir...?" Mrs. Cake was starting to sound concerned.

Flash turned to face her. He blinked. He grinned. "Hi there."

"Hehehe... hiya!"

"... ... ...how are you doing today?" he asked.

"Well..." Mrs. Cake adjusted her apron. "Busy as ever! What—with all these pies we have to deliver to Fillydelphia by week's end. But baking is what I love to do best!"

"Fillydelphia..." Flash almost snorted. "That's great." He swallowed. "This is great."

"Is there... something I can get ya, sir?"

"Hmmm?" Flash stared at her as if reawakening to the simplicity of the moment.

"We've got everything you could ask for here! From cupcakes to licorice to apple fritters to banana splits!"

"I..." Flash squirmed in the stool he sat on. "I'm not hungry." Just as he said this, something growled between the two of them.

Mrs. Cake giggled. "Seems like somepony's tummy thinks differently!"

"Some...pony...?"

"How about a tasty treat for starters?"

"Uhm... er..." Flash glanced at the glass display before him and named the first thing he saw. "...banana bread?"

"How many slices?"

"...three?"

"Mmmmkay! That'll be one bit!"

Flash blinked. "One bit?"

"That's right!"

"... ... ...one bit of what?"

"Excuse me?"

"Sorry?"

An awkward burp in time lingered between the two.

"It's... one bit for three slices," Mrs. Cake explained with a cheekish smile. "That includes the butter."

Flash sat in a daze. He suddenly exhaled, "Oh you mean money."

"That's right."

"I..." Flash winced as the words crawled out of his muzzle. "I don't have any money."

Mrs. Cake blinked, glancing at his flank—as if expecting something to be hanging off him. A wallet? A saddle? "Oh..."

"I... I'm sorry..." Flash could feel his ears drooping against his will. He leaned off the stool. "Really, I... I just came in here to sit down."

"No, it's quite alright! Are you visiting from out of town?"

Flash bit his lip. The sweetness of the moment had dwindled into nervous numbness. His shoulders hunched as he looked for an exit.

But Mrs. Cake was looking for something else. Suddenly, she sported a darling smile. "Tell you what... do ya see those tables off in the distance?"

"Uhhhh..." Flash followed her line of sight to see a booth or two littered with bread crumbs. "Yeah?"

"How about this? You can do a little something for us—like cleaning off those tabletops—and I'll let you have those three slices!"

"Oh no..." Flash winced. "Mrs. Ca—ma'am. I couldn't..."

"Why not?" She winked. "It's an honest reward for some honest work! Pinkie Pie is off helping her friends with something today, so I've been a bit short on help around the storefront. So what do you say?"

"I..." Flash smiled politely. "I-I didn't mean to be an inconvenience. Really."

"Heh... I'll be the judge of that." Mrs. Cake ducked behind the counter, then reappeared with a rag and a bottle of cleanser. "Here's what you need. Do a good job on the tables, and you don't have to worry about the bits!"

"You're..." Flash shuddered slightly. "You're too kind."

"Mmmmm... I get that a lot. One sec..." She trotted into the kitchen. "I've got to check on my pies!"

Flash stood in place, still stunned by the spontaneous act of kindness and generosity. After all, he was a total stranger—a practical horse vagrant from the street. After letting the moment sink in, he approached the rag and bottle on the counter... then stumbled to a stop. He looked at the items, then down at his hooves. Awkwardly, he leaned back on his flank and attempted to stand up straight. This worked for the better part of zero seconds—and he was collapsing back on all four fetlocks. Grunting, he reached up and tried to grasp the bottle with the crook of his hooves—only to fail. At last... he resorted to the only thing he could. He grasped the edge of the rag between his teeth and flung it over his flank—where it rested. He then clasped the bottle in his muzzle, carrying it awkwardly across the eatery. He looked to his left and right. He spotted ponies carrying trays of sweets, coin purses, and other items with their teeth—so the stallion felt slightly less weird for resorting to the use of his jaw.

Approaching the first table, Flash realized—upon closer inspection—that it was far less messy than he had previously thought. In fact, aside from a few sparse crumbs, there was very little that needed to be cleaned off. This made Mrs. Cake's spontaneous offer even more embarassingly generous with each passing second that Flash observed the matter. Nevertheless, she had committed to something, and so had he. The only trouble was figuring out how to spray cleanser on a tabletop and wipe it clean... without the use of opposable digits. Flash figured that the most basic of physical actions must have come naturally to these horse-creatures. After all, how else would they have established such a fully-functional civilization?

It was around this point that Flash discovered that the best way to think about it was not to think about it at all. He did things as stupidly as he could—using the flimsy joints in his forelimbs to operate the spray bottle and his own protruding horse chin and teeth to wipe with the rag. To his mild surprise, it was working, and he found that he could even observe the patrons of Sugarcube Corner around him while he went about his task.

The teenager soon found himself tuning in to random conversations—all of which resonated with perfect clarity... perhaps due to him possessing large damn pony ears.

"So I planned my vacation to the Crystal Empire ahead of time, right? And guess what I got in the mail! An actual travel brochure sent from the Crystal Palace! What are the odds, y'know?! I'm telling you—it's all Princess Cadance's doing! I swear—she's a mind reader... or a heart reader. Someway... somehow... she must have known how much I needed this vacation and personally sent me this pamphlet to get a proper idea of what I'm in for! Either that or... y'know... random mailbox spam. Heeheehee!"

"The older I get, the more turnips and carrots taste the same. I feel like my mother went through the same thing when she was this age. But—then again—it probably comes from working on a farm. All we ever eat is turnips and carrots, right? I bet if I lived in Manehattan, I could tell the difference in a heartbeat. The more you know, the less you have to digest. Guess that's why I keep coming here to Sugarcube Corner."

"Did you hear? The upper elite of Canterlot are striking a business deal with the Diamond Dogs! Now wouldn't that be spectacular? Having friends with the burrowing canines could mean a bigger flow of precious rubies in and out of town! Also... it'd be really realllly nice to not have to worry about mangy mutts biting at our fetlocks or trying to kidnap us in the northern plains. Also... more grounds for picnics! Heehee! Wouldn't that be great?"

"I'm just so excited! It's ten days... only ten days before I get to see the beautiful gown I commissioned at Carousel Boutique! I'm telling you... Rarity is an absolute gem! So generous and creative! I just know she is going to make me a dress to die for! I... I've got to get her something special in return! I mean... yes... I know I've paid for the commission in advance... but she deserves a little bit more for all of the effort and professionalism she puts into her material, don't you think? Hmmmm... oh! How about a gift card to Aloe and Lotus' Spa! She loves that place, doesn't she? I mean... of course she does! Have you seen her complexion? It's always just... so spectacular! Hehe!"

"So I met my first sarosian the other month while visiting Trottingham. It was late at night and there was some gathering of young and old royal guards at the local civic center. I do believe his name was... 'Wyh'lymhym.' I know—so exotic-sounding, isn't it? He had the most amazing accent, too. He was soft-spoken... with a shiny midnight coat. But... ohmycelestia... his EARS. They were the cutest, fluffiest ears I've ever seen on a pony. Not in the least bit frightening. I fear I've had it all wrong about bat p—er... I mean sarosians my entire life. Now I'm just jealous! Jealous for those adorable, leafy ears!"

Flash Sentry was at his fourth table at this point, but he wasn't keeping count of his task. He was just absolutely lost in the conversations that he was hearing. What mesmerized him about them was not so much the substance—which was for the most part confusing—but rather the tone.

The teenager was truly and deeply impressed at how... positive each of these patrons were. There wasn't a single complaint to be heard amidst the clientele. Every word from their muzzles was full of mirth, charisma, and wonder. It almost sounded too good to be true, like something scripted for young, naive children. But the more Flash heard the ponies speak, the more convinced he was of their enthusiasm and sincerity. The innocence of the moment nearly frightened him... and his heart hung heavy from the fact that he recognized that fear. It started to form a painful lump in his throat... when suddenly—

"Oh Lyra, you're far too modest." The establishment's front bell accompanied a sweet, velvety voice. "But I simply must insist. Our studio is yours for the entirety of our absence."

"Are you sure about that, Tavi? I mean... it w-would mean a lot to me. I've seen the equipment you gals have and there's a lot of stuff I've been meaning to record. I... I feel almost like I'd be taking advantage of—"

"Pish-posh! You're looking after our beloved feline, are you not? You've more than earned a chance to use some proper studio equipment! Erm... ehem... n-not that I'm meaning to imply that you've had some less-than-desirable tools at your disposal."

"Heh... it's okay, Tavi. You can come out and say it. I'm a sucky musician."

Flash Sentry looked up. He saw three young mares entering Sugarcube Corner. He instantly recognized a trademark pair of violet shades adorning a head with an electric-blue mane. A lime-green unicorn stood opposite of an earth pony with a smoothe gray complexion and smoke-black hair. As their voices purred on, Flash's head put two and two together, and his heart skipped more than a few beats as he ascertained who—and what—he was witnessing.

"Miss Heartstrings!" A delicately-accented voice chided. A pair of violet eyes narrowed as Octavia Melody's voice sliced its way out of the daintiest of the three. "Do not say such brutish and dishonest things about yourself! Now, I have had the good grace of observing your compositions in my free time, and I must say that they are beyond lovely. There is no ineptitude to be found in your work." She bore a fuzzy smile, full of beauty and compassion. Flash—being the teenage boy that he was—was no stranger to admiring the exquisite human damsel that was Octavia Melody from afar. However, this definitively equine version of the Trottingham University exchange student was somehow... more adorable than what he was used to on the other side of the mirror. He couldn't quite put his finger—or hoof on it. With each word that she spoke, his mind reeled with the contemplation of warm terry cloth towels straight out of the drier. It made him calm, happy—like the bittersweet smile now hanging off her muzzle. "You have simply been stuck in a horrible rut of bad luck, love." She sighed sideways. "Just the same as Vinyl and myself."

The chic unicorn to her side nodded gravely. A bulky pair of headphones rattled around her neck, the clamshells extra-large to fit fuzzy pony ears. Flash would have chuckled—hadn't the conversation suddenly taken this curiously melancholic tone.

"Does this have something to do with your trip to Canterlot?" Lyra Heartstrings asked. Flash hadn't realized just how... striking her green complexion was. Then again, back home, there wasn't much of her figure that was this... exposed. Flash chose to dwell on that as little as possible. "There're tons of venues in the upper city." She leaned in, yellow eyes peering. "Is that why you're both headed out there? To find some sweet gigs?"

"If there's even the slightest chance at musical opportunities, it falls upon Vinyl and myself to seize it," Octavia said with a half-hearted sigh. "The music scene in Ponyville has simply been too dry as of late. From what I hear, even the Ponytones—Celestia love them—have been forced to enjoy a temporary retirement."

"Heh... I think it's because it's been ages since Tirek," Lyra said with a crooked smirk. "Without a horrible crisis, everypony's happy. There's no need for symphonic escapism."

"That's a remarkably... grim way of looking at things, Miss Heartstrings, but not too far from the truth." Octavia adjusted her bow-tie. Only now did Flash realize that the thing perfectly matched the mare's eyes. It was suddenly both silly and alarming that it was the only article of clothing she wore. "The life of an artist is as fickle as the seasons... only ours aren't regular as autumn, winter, or spring. No—I fear we must take action rather than depend on the mood of the local populace. And if that takes us to Canterlot to search for proper venues, then so be it."

Vinyl Scratch nodded with a calm smile.

"And we sincerely hope that you make the best out of what you produce in our studio while we're gone," Octavia said in a sweet tone. "But you needn't wait for us to go on an extended trip to have full access, darling! You know that our facilities are yours for the taking! All you need to do is ask!"

"But..." Lyra squirmed where she stood, rubbing one hoof against another. "I j-just feel so silly. You'd think that an aspiring musician such as myself would have her own equipment."

"You're a busy mare—what, with helping your delightful friend at her business on a daily basis."

"But I enjoy helping Bon Bon out at her store!"

"But you enjoy making music even more. Don't lie to us, Lyra." Octavia coyly winked. "And don't pretend you can hide the fact from Bon Bon either. She wants to see you happy and successful just like the rest of us."

Lyra sighed. "I'm just... sc-scared of wasting everypony's time and patience. Especially hers."

"Dearest Miss Heartstrings, how many times must we go through this—?"

Just then, Vinyl Scratch coughed—the first semi-audible thing to come from her muzzle since the three arrived there.

Octavia instantly looked over. "Vinyl?" She rested a hoof on the mare's shoulder. "Are you alright, love?"

Vinyl nodded, although she rubbed her throat with a wincing expression.

"Oh no..." Octavia's ears folded. "Don't tell me... you're having another reaction? I swear... it happens every time we come here."

As if drawn to the sound of alarm, Mrs. Cake waddled over from the kitchen. "Hello, ladies! Is... is everything okay?"

Octavia steeled herself with a sigh and a smile. "Oh, Mrs. Cake, I do not wish to be such a terrible burden—"

"No! Please!" Mrs. Cake leaned in. "What seems to be the problem?"

"Well, it's my dear friend. Vinyl. The last two times we've come here, she's broken out in a rash and suffered a soar throat. I hate to say it... but I do believe she's allergic to something here in Sugarcube Corner—which is a shame, for we do so very much enjoy coming here to partake in your scrumptious baking."

"Wait..." Lyra cocked her head to the side. "I think I remember this from a month ago. Wasn't there some kind of a mildew problem?" She winced and glanced Mrs. Cake's way. "No offense."

"None taken!" The older mare nodded. "And you're right. I do recall a rather nasty stain that had formed near the ceiling on the west side of the building. Honey Bun—erm... my handsome Carrot went and cleaned it up though."

"Oh! I heard about that!" Lyra shifted where she stood. "Didn't... uh... didn't he fall off a ladder and hurt himself?"

"Oh dear!" Octavia held a hoof to her chin. "I hadn't heard about that! My apologies—"

"Nothing to be sorry for!" Cup Cake insisted with a half-giggle.

"Still, is your husband quite alright?"

"Heh..." The stallion in question strolled up, dusting baking powder off his fetlocks. "Fit as a fiddle! I promise!" He then grimaced slightly, squinting out one eye. "Although... the ol' pie pan has a few dints in it." He took one glance at Vinyl. "Wuh-oh. Somepony's got some red in her snow-whiteness. I'm guessing I didn't get it all cleaned up."

"You know what I think it is?" Lyra said. "Something's clogging up the moisture between the ceiling and Sugarcube Corner's exterior. It's probably what's causing all of the mildew and mold to build up. The same thing happened to Bon Bon's shop on the other side of town."

"Did you ever find a cause?" Octavia asked.

"The rain gutters," Lyra said. "I guarantee that that's the problem. Once those things get clogged up, then there's only one place for the moisture to go."

"Well, that settles it!" Carrot Cake gave Vinyl Scratch a reassuring pat on the shoulder and made for the broom closet. "Let me get the ladder and I'll be outside, cleaning those gutters right away—!"

"Carrot! Not on your life!" Cup Cake suddenly gasped, trotting after him. "I'm glad that you wish to do something so kind and noble for our customers—"

"It's not just that, Sweety Delicious," the stallion said, rummaging through the closet. "It's something that's gotta be done! We don't want to have a horrible mold problem in our eatery! It'll make us look bad!"

"But your back is still recovering from that dreadful fall you took!" Cup's plump cheeks reddened in adorable consternation. "You're simply in no condition to go up any ladders right now! Much less sweating your handsome flank off in cleaning the gutters!"

"Nonsense! We're ahead of schedule! I don't need to bake anything for another hour or two! So you just... mind the store and I'll—" While speaking, Carrot Cake grasped the ladder and pivoted his body one degree too much. His eyes crossed, and he instantly doubled-over in pain, nearly dropping the ladder to the floor. "Aaugh! Hssssssh—aychiwawaaaa..."

"Cuddle Bumps!" Cup Cake rushed over to him, pouting. "Ohhhhhh... I knew this would happen! What did I tell you?"

Vinyl Scratch gestured emphatically.

Octavia spoke for her. "Vinyl's right. It's... not too bad. Honest! We'll only be here for a little while. Besides... if it gets too bad, we'll just have some of your treats for take-out!"

"But..." Carrot winced. "That's not fair to you ladies. Cup Cake and I know how much you enjoy hanging out here and talking. Also, we'd hate to lose some of our most valued customers."

"You're not losing anypony, Mr. Cake," Lyra said, glancing at the others. "Right, girls?"

"Absolutely!" Octavia smiled tenderly. "It's just... something out of our control for the time-being."

"But..." Carrot sighed, glaring at the ladder in frustration. "I can't just sit on this nonsense. If those gutters don't get clean, then we'll have a real problem on our hands."

"Well..." Lyra scratched her fuzzy green chin. "Maybe if you just hired somepony on the outside?"

"I... am afraid we're a bit scrapped for bits at the moment," Cup Cake said with a nervous smile. "And Pinkie Pie isn't in town, so—"

"Ahem."

Five sets of pony eyes looked in Flash's direction.

He finished polishing the last of his tabletops cleaned. With a well-prepared smile, he faced the group and offered a gentle smile... along with a gentle voice: "I couldn't help but overhear that you have a slight rain gutter problem." He felt his own ears perking straight up, and he just rolled with it. "Maybe I can be of help?"

"Oh, dear..." Cup Cake held a hoof over her chest. "That's so sweet of you, but we couldn't possibly—"

"Please." He folded the cleaning rag neatly and positioned it on a table's edge next to the bottle of cleanser. "It would mean a lot to me to help out."

"We don't have a lot of spare bits to offer."

He merely winked back at the mare. "Banana bread... remember?"

"Oh! Uhm..." Cup Cake fidgeted. "Well..."

Carrot Cake narrowed his eyes. "What's your name again, buddy?"

"Oh, I'm..." Flash suddenly froze in place, as if staring at a ghostly reflection in a shiny mirror. "I'm... uhm..." He clenched his horse teeth, glancing all around. His eyes danced across painted wooden effigies of cupcakes, pastel coats and colorful manes, a brass platter filled with cookies. "Brass."

Lyra and Octavia blinked. "Brass?"

"Brad—Brad!" Flash tossed them a cheesy grin, exhaling. "My name is Brad." He gulped. "And if you need your gutters cleaned, then I'm your man... pony. I'm your pony."

Cup Cake looked ready to protest—

"Well, Mr. Brad." Carrot Cake stood up, wincing from his spine... but nevertheless smiling. "If you insist... then who are we to say 'no' to such spontaneous generosity?" He glanced aside to wink at his spouse. "Besides... we do have plenty of banana bread."

"Mmmmmmm..." Cup Cake squirmed slightly, glancing at "Brad" with doe-like eyes. "You're certain it isn't a terrible inconvenience?"

"Not at all! Now..." Flash gestured at Carrot. "Mind if I borrow that ladder?"

"Uhhhhh..." Carrot glanced at Flash's sides for some reason... then tilted the ladder forward. "Sure thing...?"

"Cool beans!"

Helpful

Thunk!

The top of the ladder clattered to a stop against the western face of Sugarcube Corner. Flash Sentry climbed it in a blink. To his surprise, being quadrepedal somehow made clasping the rungs... strangely easier. Reaching the top, he instead focused on the dense, damp, and disgustingly brown chunks of dead leaves filling the gutters from end to end.

A shrill whistle escaped his muzzle. "Uh huh... this is your problem, alright." He gave the bottom of the gutter a swift tap with his hoof—feeling the intense weight of the gathered material and how it pulled at the metal fasteners still pinning the thing to the roof. In so doing, he upset a nest or two, and panicked cockroaches and silverfish skittered loose. He tried not to flinch. Several months ago, Flash had been tasked with tidying up the exterior of his aunt's mobile home on the opposite side of town. After much scrubbing, raking, and scraping—he had successfully beautified the place until it outshone all of the other structures in the trailer park, but the disgusting sights he had seen had formed a permanent scar in his subconscious. This filthy little slice of the pony world, on the other hand, paled in comparison, and he wasn't about to shirk his impulsive volunteer work over a few unsavory bugs. "Not going to lie—this is going to be messy. There's enough backed-up gunk here to fill a wheelbarrow." He hoped that ponies were civilized enough to know what a wheelbarrow was—much less possessed the capacity to use them.

"Oh my..." Cup Cake fidgeted where she stood at the base of the ladder down below. From where Flash stood, she looked like a plump little dessert topping that matched the rest of Sugarcube's exterior decor. "Well... tell me, Mr. Brad—"

"Just Brad will do," Flash blurted.

"Brad... what can I get you to help make this generous task of yours any easier, dearie?"

"I'm more worried about where all this shi—er.... crud is going to go," he said, feeling his muzzle form a nervous, cheeky smile. "I don't suppose you have a few buckets to spare? I need containers to empty the runoff into without staining the outside of your lovely establishment."

"Oh! Buckets!" Cup Cake brightened, her tiny little tail giving a tiny little wag. "Can do!"

Just then, Carrot Cake trotted out with a tray of glasses and a water pitcher. "And something to scoop the leaves out with, I bet!" He placed the tray atop the mailbox and smiled up at the teenager, squinting past the sun's glare. "You know, I have this super old scooper for sprinkles that's just been gathering dust in the closet. I suppose now's as good a time as any to permanently retire it from the kitchen."

Flash held in the strong need to laugh at that. "Actually... Mr. Cake—"

"Please, Brad, call me Carrot."

Flash smiled inwardly from the friendliness in the air between them. "If you've got any gardening tools, I could really use a hand rake."

Carrot cocked his head aside. "A what rake?"

"Erm..." Flash winced. "A garden rake?"

"Oh! Sure!"

"You see, first I want to break the material up—cuz it's all packed densely together, y'know?" Flash gestured from where he was perched at the top of the ladder. "Then—once I have it loosened—I can go about shoveling it allllll the way down the length of the gutters. Mrs Cake is already grabbing some buckets so I can catch the stuff on the way out. Uhm... in the meantime, though, you might wanna post a sign... telling customers to use the side door to your establishment or something."

"I was just thinking that!" Carrot Cake said with a pleasant wink. He was already trotting off. "I'll go grab what I can from our shed outback. Heh... I'm a bit embarrassed to admit that we haven't opened the thing in months. It's probably crawling with parasprites and star spiders by now."

"Yeah... okay." Flash stood there, numbly trying to contemplate exactly what a "star spider" was, much less a "parasprite." It was little things like that which highlighted just how... fantastical this whole place was... and yet here he was on a ladder about to clean rain gutters. His big glossy pony eyes drifted across the street. He saw four-legged citizens trotting to and fro, pausing as soon as their paths interconnected just so they could engage in pleasant conversation—relishing the moment. There was no hurry... no urgency to their steps. Time seemed so short, and the sky above this land strangely colorful—and small, like these curious horses. But everypony seemed too lost in their innocence and adorability to care or, to a greater or lesser degree, to worry. At one point, his eyes spotted a mare trotting out of a storefront... accompanied by a set of bags that inexplicably floated beside her. Flash's heart skipped a beat... but then he remembered Starlight Glimmer—and her unicorn horn with unicorn magic. Just as he began to smile at the wonder of the notion, his fresh memory of Starlight evolved into an even fresher memory of the large, crystalline castle he had witnessed upon emerging in this world. And that recollection brought with it the knowledge of who precisely that castle belonged to. Soon, his smile faded, and his heart grew heavy with a very familiar weight.

Thankfully, it was at that precise moment that Carrot Cake returned, along with Cup Cake in tow.

"Here you go, Brad!" Carrot Cake said. He stood up on his hindquarters—wincing a bit from his sore spine—but nevertheless raised a few gardening tools towards the teenager, balanced on the flat of his pronounced stallion muzzle. "I hope these work out for ya!"

"They'll do just fine, Carrot, thanks," Flash said, leaning down to grab the tools. It was about two seconds into the process that he realized he had acquired the items in his hooves with... no problem whatsoever. It would certainly appear that putting less thought into things made all the difference in this world.

"Where should I place the buckets, sweetie?" Cup asked.

"In a straight line," Flash said, gesturing from above. "All beneath the edge of the roof—and then put one at the very end. If you can, make sure it's the largest bucket of all."

Cup Cake went about placing the containers in the necessary spots. "We can't thank you enough for doing this. It really means a lot to us and our clients."

"Don't thank me just yet," Flash said. He grasped the garden rake in his front teeth. Only then did he learn that having such a large pony mouth allowed him to "talk" out the sides of his muzzle while still performing menial tasks. With each progressive minute he spent dwelling in that place, things felt... curiously natural. He chose not to linger on the matter, instead digging and stabbing away at the wet material within the gutter while murmuring to the married couple below: "There are still three other sides to this building, from what I've seen."

"Oh... don't fuss," Cup Cake said, waving a hoof. "You can just take care of the west side here. That's where the moisture's gathered the worst."

"Mrmmfff... that's not enough," Flash muttered, starting to sweat as he progressed along the gutters, one arduous inch at a time. "You don't want peop—er... ponies with mold allergies to suffer any longer whenever they visit, right? If we're to tackle this problem... best to tackle the whole problem."

"Well, one thing's for sure, you've earned more than banana bread!" Cup Cake said. She giggled—as did her husband.

"Heh... we'll get to that when the time comes," Flash said, managing a smile despite his labors. Already, he was unearthing huge chunks of wet, decaying leaves. He expected a nasty smell to fill the air, and he didn't quite anticipate enjoying it with his rather pronounced nostrils. Yet—to his surprise—the air remained mostly pleasant... as if something absolutely priceless and aromatic at the heart of this world oversaturated any nasty odor whatsoever. "I can already tell that this isn't as nasty a job as I was expecting." And he was telling the truth.

"Looks like we've got things covered here, honey buns," Carrot Cake said with a wink.

"Well, alrighty then!" Cup Cake turned about and waddled inside. "I'd best be checking up on our customers! Holler if you need anything!"

"I'm sure we will," Carrot said. Eventually, the two stallions were alone. The older one stood below, steadying the ladder while Flash continued his work. "No joke, Brad. This really means a lot." He sighed. "There's nothing I hate more than not being able to contribute where I'm most needed. You're a young one—so I'm not sure you'd understand."

"Mrmmff..." Flash re-positioned the handle of the rake in his teeth, giving his throat muscles room to swallow the invisible lump that had formed. "I'm just happy to help."

"Heh. No joke." Carrot smirked. "Ponyville could use more ponies like you."

Flash tried not to laugh—for fear of loosing the tool in his grasp. "Somehow I find that hard to believe."

"Oh?"

"Everybody here is just so friggin' nice."

Carrot raised an eyebrow. "Is there a reason we shouldn't be?"

Flash fumbled a bit. Shadows scraped the edges of his mind, laced with the bitter aftertaste of lonesome gray sighs. He cleared his throat and... simply continued stabbing away at the gutters.

Carrot peered and peered. "Where're you from, Brad?" he finally blurted. "If... you don't mind me asking."

Flash's blood ran cold—something that he didn't know could happen in his inexplicable pony body until that very moment. He shivered, imagining the walls of the crystalline palace closing in from all around... shoving him back... squeezing him back through the portal like a worthless chunk of fat down some dark, forsaken esophagus. For the first time, the smell of mildew stung at his sinuses, and it smelled like... everything back home. If regret had an odor...

"I... uhm..." Flash fumbled, fidgeted, and finally settled for the truth—or at least the next best thing to it. "I'm from a place far... far away."

"Oh?" Carrot blinked. "One of the outlying cloud cities?" The stallion's eyes twinkled with sudden excitement. "An Equestrian colony overseas?"

"Uhhhhhhhhhhh..." Flash shifted his weight on the ladder. "What's... a place that's—like—super far away from Ponyville?"

"Oh, I dunno..." Carrot rubbed his head with a free hoof. "Griffonstone?"

"Yeah! Griffonstone!" Flash wheezed, digging and stabbing at leaves. "I'm from there."

Carrot did a double-take. "You're from a mountain city full of griffons?"

"Full of what-now?"

"Y'know... griffons..." Carrot chuckled. "Aside from the fact that they don't exactly make... agreeable company, I'd say you lack the beak and tail to impress them."

"Oh... uh..." Flash sweated. "Right." In the pale blink of the moment, it occurred to him that ponies weren't nearly as naive as he thought. He felt foolish... and more than a little bit guilty.

Thankfully, the warm tone in Carrot's voice dissolved the anxiety of the moment before it could form. "If you don't wish to talk about where you come from, Brad, that's perfectly fine. And it's definitely not my place to pry." Flash could sense his smile from several feet below. "Lots of pegasi—I find—flock to Ponyville to escape the pressures of the more... populated cities of Equestria. Also, this being an earth pony town and all, there're far more grounded opportunities for a stallion like you to take advantage of."

"What do you mean?"

Carrot turned abruptly quiet. The silence was eerie enough to force Flash to look down at him. Eventually, the older stallion stammered: "I... I'm sorry. I feel like I've been too presumptuous."

"In what way?"

"F-forget I said anything."

"No." Flash gently insisted. "I'm curious. Am I doing something wrong?"

"No! Not at all!" Carrot furiously shook his head. "In fact—like I said—lots of... erm... fl-flightless pegasi make their home here in Ponyville! And we welcome them with open arms!" He smiled nervously, his muzzle reddening with each fumbling word. "In fact... several even eat here at Sugarcube Corner! And I believe even one attends Mrs. Cheerilee's—"

"I'm... confused..." Flash said, though he wondered if it was actually going to benefit him to pressure the issue.

"Well, I just assumed that... y'know..." Carrot nervously patted the ladder that he was bracing between them. "...since you weren't using your wings and all..."

Flash blinked. A few of Starlight Glimmer's words echoed down his spine. His eyes wondered curiously to his tightly-coiled wings.

"But... but that's perfectly fine!" Carrot chuckled good-naturedly. "I'll have you know that I've been flightless my entire life! Heheh! And I've gotten along just fine!" He coughed out the side of his muzzle. "Gonna make playing 'catch' with Pound super interesting... that's for sure..."

Flash blanched so hard that he nearly dropped the garden rake from his muzzle. "You mean you horses can fly?! Like... actually fly?"

Carrot's eyes twitched upon hearing that. "Uhm... yes? Well... if you mean the fine delegates from Saddle Arabia, then no... but... erm..."

"I..." Flash flexed his wings, glancing at each orange feather. "I thought these things were strictly ornamental."

"Uhhhhhh..."

"Y'know... for show?"

"Hate to break it to you, but..." Carrot pointed skyward with an amused grin.

Flash looked to the heavens—as if for the first time. As his vision came into focus, he saw several gliding... streaking shapes. To his utter surprise, they each possessed hooves and flickering tails. Suddenly, Starlight Glimmer's comments about the "open castle window" made a great deal more sense. At one point while gazing, he caught a streak of rainbow colors soaring by so fast that a veritable sonic blast accompanied the pony's passing in a burst of thunder. The sensation drew a childish laugh from his muzzle. This time he did drop the rake—letting it dangle from the edge of the gutter.

"Hah hah! Holy crap!" Flash smiled stupidly, and his words matched the expression. "That's so friggin' cool. So... like..." He glanced at his own feathers and almost sighed. "Can I do that?"

Carrot's smirk had turned into a sly, off-angled thing. "You really are from a place far away, aren't you?" He winked. "Somehow... I don't think even Griffonstone could cut it."

The moment of levity had passed. Flash gulped hard, grasping the handle of the rake once again in solid teeth. "Mr. Cake," he murmured. "Right now... I'm just a dude who really wants to fix your gutter problem. Like... totally."

Carrot nodded with a warm breath. "And that's good enough for me."

Flash sighed. It was something close to relief. "Cool." And he proceeded to tackle the gutter... and the next one... and the next—moving along the outer circumference of the building in a counter-clockwise motion, filling the buckets gradually and then emptying them out in the back of the establishment. It was all a remarkably smooth process—especially with Carrot's assistance with the ladder and buckets. Despite a few intense moments of distraction from the flying horses above, Flash managed to get the task done in record time. Of course... idle conversation with Carrot and the many ice-cold refreshments courtesy of Cup helped the situation immensely.

"Well, it's actually quite simple, really," Carrot Cake mused as he and Flash shuffled the ladder over a few feet, re-positioning it along the outer edge of the gutters above. "My great-great-great-great grandfather was a unicorn, and Cup Cake's great aunt's second cousin twice removed was a Pegasus."

"And so you ended up with two kids who weren't... uhm..." Flash fumbled for words as he climbed back up the ladder's rungs. "...normal ponies?"

Carrot smiled pleasantly. "Around these parts, we call ourselves 'earth ponies,' Brad."

"My bad."

"Quite alright."

"So there are three kinds of ponies?" Flash asked—then winced at how pathetically elementary that question was. He attempted to save the moment. "Around these parts, I mean."

"Heh..." Carrot took the strange inquiry in stride. "Central Equestria is home to mostly earth ponies, unicorns, and pegasi."

"And Pumpkin and Pound are a unicorn and a pegasi respectfully."

"Pegasus... and yes." Carrot nodded. "But now—if you go far... farrr north you'll find the Crystal Empire... which is home to crystal ponies!"

"No kidding." Flash resumed digging and stabbing at the last length of clogged gutters. "Mrmmff... and what are they like?"

"Crystalline!"

Flash chuckled. "That it?"

"Well—from what I hear, they live longer than most other ponies, they make excellent cooks, and their coats turn all sparkly and glowy whenever magic is channeled through their sacred Crystal Heart."

"So they're basically Italians."

"Huh?"

Flash cleared his throat, deciding to end that right then and there. "What other... kinds of ponies live here in central Equestria?"

"Well, there are the sarosians, I suppose."

"Now there's a funny word."

"Heh..." Carrot rubbed the back of his mane. "I'm getting used to the term myself. Back in the day—while there was still the Mare in the Moon—we simply called them 'bat ponies.' But times have certainly been changing, and—all things considered—the term 'bat ponies' isn't very polite... now is it?"

"No. I guess not." Flash was still hung up on the strange term "Mare in the Moon." In a sincere breath, he dragged himself back to the conversation at hand. "So... like..." He paused in his sweaty duty to glance down at the stallion. "...for real... where does the 'bat' part begin and the 'pony' part end?"

Carrot laughed quite heavily. He wiped a tear from his eye and smiled up at the teenager. "Brad... I have to say... part of me really really wants to be weirded out by all of these questions, but it's... strangely refreshing to actually fill in another soul who's not a griffon."

"Yeah?" Flash smiled wryly. "And what's so bad about griffons?"

"You mean aside from their ill-temperament, bad breath, and carnivorous ways?" Carrot shuddered, but the moment of disgust was short-lived. "Still... they do make good fliers, and Equestria would be in quite a pickle if we didn't have strong and courageous griffons fending off hyrdas and other monsters from beyond the Great Sea."

Flash—however—found himself stumbling over a single detail. "...you mean you guys don't eat meat?"

Carrot Cake instantly paled... and Flash instantly regretted it.

Thankfully, the awkward moment was shattered by the arrival of three familiar figures.

"How's it holding upppp?" Cup Cake melodically inquired.

"Oh! Uhm..." Carrot Cake coughed—a bit too raspily for his own good. He gladly took a step back and gestured up at the ladder. "We're on the final stretch! And by that... I mean he's on the final stretch! I'm quite flabbergasted, actually! Brad's done a full week of work in under three hours!"

"Hey! With your help!" Flash said, pointing down at the stallion. He returned to the gutter, cleaning the last length of it out with a few well-placed scrapes of the garden rake. "But it only solves the cause of your problem, y'know. There's still likely some water damage and mold on the inside of your establishment. That's gonna take longer to fix, I'm certain."

"Something for us to tackle, no doubt," Cup Cake said. "In the meantime, however... a certain somepony here would like to ask you something." She stepped aside, revealing a familiar lime-green shape.

"Uhm... Mr. Brad... was it?" Lyra Heartstrings looked up with humble eyes. "You seem to be doing a super bang-up job and all."

"Hey... more than happy to."

"I was wondering... uhm..." Lyra fidgeted. "Since you did it so quickly... and... uh... you seem to be enjoying yourself... kinda... or... well... as much as a stallion doing super heavy and sweaty work on gutters could enjoy himself... erm..."

"Oh, for Pete's sake, love..." Octavia Melody rolled her eyes and marched up into the foreground, peering up at Flash. "What my dear companion is pointlessly struggling to ask is if you would be so kind as to perform the same task around her friend's establishment on the other side of town."

"Hmmm?" Flash glanced down. "Who?"

"Bon Bon," Octavia declared. Lyra blushed terribly beside her as the mare continued. "She manages a confectionery not too far from here. It's a much smaller building than Sugarcube Corner, and you would only be required to tackled the front of the structure—for that's the only spot that contains gutters. It would appear that Lyra and Bon Bon are slightly concerned with having a similar mildew problem as was transpiring here and—well—you will be rewarded handsomely, I'm sure." She smirked aside at Lyra. "Bon Bon is many things—but she is hardly miserly."

Lyra groaned. "Do you have to be so wordy about it?"

"An abundance of words is far better than no words at all, love." Octavia nudged her playfully. "Honestly—for such a talented musician, you could learn to make more noise."

"Mmmmmmmmm... easy for you to say."

"Indeed."

Gulping, Lyra glanced up. "So... like... would that be cool? I mean... I know you've done an awful lot of work today. I really really hope it's not asking too much."

Flash Sentry was silent—not because he dreaded the potential new task—but because he was too busy tripping over the fact that this world also had a "Bon Bon" and it presented whole new opportunities for adorable discovery. Also—any labor whatsoever meant another opportunity for occupying his time... as well as his mind, which meant less instances of remembering the far less bright and pastel past that his inexplicably hoofed soul was anchored to.

The silence went on for a bit too long, leading Lyra to fidget slightly. At last, Flash sounded off—with a burst of laughter.

"Hey! Sure thing!" He lessened his volume to a sincere chuckle, teetering slightly on the top of the ladder. "Just point and click and I'm there!"

Octavia and Lyra merely squinted at each other in confusion. At last, Octavia cleared her throat and said, "So... forgive me for having to catch up, dear sir, but does that mean you're... game, as t'were?"

"Totally." Flash gestured at the gutters before him. "Just let me take care of this last bit of gunk and I'll be right over."

"Oh!" Cup Cake jumped in place. "The banana bread I owe you! You should take a break first—"

"Nope." Flash shook his head.

"No?"

"Gotta beat the daylight hours, right? I mean... Miss Melody here says it's just one side of the building, but you never know." Flash smiled pleasantly. "I'd hate to underestimate the task I'm committing myself to."

Carrot looked over at his spouse. "He has a point, sweetie-bumps."

"But... but..." Cup Cake pouted, her plump cheeks turning plumper. "You've hardly had enough rest as it is! And I just wouldn't feel right letting you run off without the 'payment' we promised!"

Flash could feel the sincerity and kindness of her words flow through him. It led him to sigh, although he tactfully sculpted the resulting words: "It's okay. I'll just... come back later for them. When I'm done."

"Please, Mr. Brad, I insist!"

"Yeah... for realsies." Lyra nodded, looking up at him. "If it's too much to ask for, you don't have to—"

"Please." Flash shuddered, pausing to hug the garden rake to his fuzzy pony chest like it was an oddly-shaped pillow. He gazed down at the gathered townsponies with a soft, vulnerable smile. "Let me do this for you. It'll be okay." He fought a shaky breath to make the next few words come out evenly, handsomely. "You... don't know how much it means for me to be... useful."

The ponies looked at one another, and they had no arguments. Only smiles. It was strong enough to carry the ladder across town to Bon Bon's shop... among other things.

Ladder

"This was so... so very kind of you, Mister... Mister..." A pair of blue eyes blinked quizzically under a two-toned mane. A fuzzy peach muzzle tilted skyward from in front of the confectionery. "What was your name again?"

The gutters here on the other side of town were far from clogged-up. Nevertheless, Flash Sentry took his sweet time in cleaning them—if only for an excuse to drink in the moment... this moment of digesting yet another mild acquaintance from Canterlot High turned-into-an-adorable-talking-horse-girl. He perched atop the ladder and kept the pitch of his voice low and masculine, as if the job he was currently tasked with was just as difficult and important as mixing concrete.

"Brad," he said. "It's a family name," he breathily mused. In truth, his real name appeared to fit more in this "Equestria" than the monicker he had randomly chosen. Part of him was more amused than vexed by that.

"Heehee!" Bon Bon giggled, as chipper as ever. She fit right in this place. "Well..." She raised a hoof daintily while motioning towards the interior of her establishment with her fluffy head. "...I'll go and get some refreshments. That should cool you down after all the work you've been doing."

"Oh, I'm fine."

"You sure?"

Flash nodded, scraping meager bits of leaves and grit out of the gutter with a garden rake. "Mr. Cake was super-nice to give me plenty of water to drink back at Sugarcube Corner."

"Wow... you've been super helpful to everypony today!"

"Nah. You're just the second." Flash glanced down at the glossy windows of the place, behind which several bright candies and peppermint treats were displayed in full pastel glory. "Nice shop you have here, by the way."

Bon Bon giggled. "Th-thanks! It's a small start... but I'm hoping to branch out and open more locations! Set up an entire enterprise of candy shops, y'know..."

Flash smiled. "Guess you got over your mortal fear of baking, huh? That's good to know."

The mare cocked her head to the side, squinting. "What do you mean?"

Flash paled. He could feel his ears folding atop his blue head as he realized—to his stupidity—that this was far from the "Bon Bon" he had gotten to know back in his world. Of course she wouldn't know about the trials and tribulations of a certain blue-and-pink haired girl back in Canterlot High's Home Economics class. Of course... she wouldn't have any personal recollection of a petite teenager—blushing a rosy storm—hiding behind Flash Sentry's apron'd figure as the two were crucified before the judging council of the Friendship Games for a veritable log of inedible angel food cake. At some point—where the souls converged, human and equine—a masterful talent for baking must have been born.

"Just th-that..." He rambled, attempting to burst the clouds of his own contemplation before too much silence reigned. He fidgeted atop the ladder, scraping and stabbing. "It's one thing to have a talent." His eyes wandered to the distant markings on her flank. Beforehand, it had always been a random marking on her backpack—a button on her blouse. Now it was her everything. How curious and frightful all at once. "It's another thing to build your whole career out of it. You must be quite proud of yourself, Miss Bon Bon."

"Hmmmmm... thanks. I am." Her fuzzy cheeks turned slightly rosy, and Flash regretted not having fingertips anymore. "And thanks for calling me 'Miss.'"

"Don't mention it."

"Still, you may not be thirsty now, but you will be soon, I bet." She winked, turning to trot briskly back inside the establishment. "Let me fetch some lemonade! It's the least I can do!"

"Heh... if you insist."

As she entered, two other ponies exited. Flash recognized the lime and gray shapes in an instant.

"I see you've become fast friends," Octavia Melody murmured.

Flash scraped and scraped. "Shouldn't I have?"

"Bon Bon has been... uhm..." Lyra toed at the sidewalk in the ladder's shadow. "...super serious ever since she opened this place. The store means a lot to her... the success of it, I mean... uhm..."

Octavia spoke firmly over Lyra's voice. "Any small task—however menial—goes a long way. Thank you again, Mr. Brad."

"Please. Just 'Brad,'" the stallion said. "I insist."

"Mmmmm... indeed." Octavia smiled daintily, keeping within the shade of the front awning in order to keep from sweating through her soft, velvety coat. She adjusted her bow tie and gazed across the streets of Ponyville. "I swear—we get all the kind-hearted visitors in this town. I'm going to miss it terribly during the week Vinyl and I are away."

"Why's that?" Flash asked.

"Well, as much as I appreciate Canterlot culture and glamor—city life simply isn't as agreeable as I would like it to be."

"Yeah..." Lyra shuddered slightly. "It's why I moved in with Bon Bon."

Octavia tossed her a cool smile. "Among other things."

"Er, well..." Lyra blushed instantly, rubbing the back of her head. "Of course."

Flash—in the meantime—was busy scrunching his muzzle in abject confusion. "'Canterlot'... so there's a Canterlot here after all..."

"Erm... yes..." Octavia squinted up at him, nodding. There was a throaty, probing slant to her tone. "A most splendid capital. Why—is there a 'Canterlot' where you come from?"

"Uhhhhhhh..."

"Though, if you ask me," Lyra said, "It's a bit less 'splendid' now that we've got our own princess. Teehee."

Flash remarked, "You say that like you've bought a fishing boat."

"Well, I just mean that Canterlot's got princesses. The Crystal Empire's got a princess. But now—Ponyville's got Twilight Sparkle!" Lyra smiled wide. "Talk about putting our town on the map!"

"So... wait..." Flash wobbled a bit on the top of the ladder. "You mean... there's more than one princess?"

Lyra merely stared up at him, green lips pursed.

"Indeed," Octavia spoke with remarkable grace. "Twilight Sparkle, Celestia, Luna and Mi Amore Cadenza." The musical mare blinked hard. "Oh—and of course—the newly foaled Flurry Heart. Goodness... still getting used to that one."

"Holy..." Flash nearly dropped the garden rake from his muzzle. "Luna and Celestia? They're princesses too?"

"Uhhhhhh..." Lyra craned her head. "You feeling okay up there, sir? Maybe the heights are rushing the blood a bit too hard through your head."

"Does this surprise you, Brad?" Octavia asked calmly.

Flash bit his lip. All this time, he had assumed that there was only one princess in Equestria. When he thought of her silky purple hair, sparkly violet eyes, and fair lavender skin—it all made perfect sense. Then he felt another flutter to his heart, and he instantly regretted it. The regret had a familiar scent—of dust and shadows that had become his bedmates over the past few months. So—stifling a sigh—he thought past it... and past her. He thought about Principal Celestia and Vice Principal Luna... fellow sisters and career-oriented women... authoritative and graceful. In his mind, they'd make great Queens... but princesses? Still, he wasn't one to dictate to this world... only delight in it.

"Huh... Princess Celestia and Princess Luna." A dumb smile crossed his muzzle, chasing the dust and shadows away from the corners of his mind—replaced instead with sparkles and glitter. "Like..." He glanced down at the two mares. "Glass slippers and wishing upon a star and all that jazz?"

"Well... no..." Octavia slowly shook her head. "...something more akin to representative monarchy, wise diplomacy, and executive leadership."

"Oh!" Lyra hopped in place, grinning. "Don't forget raising the sun and moon!"

"Oh. Quite. Also important."

"Wait wait wait..." Flash squinted in the suddenly obtrusive sunlight. "Who does what now?"

"Uhhhhhhh..." Lyra talked out the side of a wincing muzzle, almost sarcastically. "Celestia raises the sun and Luna raises the moon?"

"Like... literally?" Flash blinked. "With their hands?" He blinked again. "Hooves—I mean."

"You... sure you don't need to come down from atop the ladder now, Brad?" Lyra asked. "Bon Bon's getting some cool refreshing lemonade! Why not have a sip... eheh..." She tittered nervously.

"I'm just trying to get this straight." Flash waved with the garden rake in his grasp. "These princesses... literally control the sun and moon?"

"Mmmmhmmm." Octavia calmly nodded. "Every day."

"You've seen them do it?"

"Well..." The music mare brushed her smoky bangs back. "I haven't actually attended any of the Summer Sun Celebrations in person. But that's like asking me if I see grass grow. It's just a known fact."

"Yeah." Lyra nodded. "I suppose if you wanted to see it being done yourself, you could just show up in Canterlot at daybreak and watch it for yourself. It's what I used to do when I lived there."

"In Canterlot?"

"Yeah! Up there!" Lyra pointed forty-five degrees skyward.

Flash turned. Flash gazed. And that's when he saw it, tilting his head up and up and up until at last his blue eyes reflected a monumental set of castle spires looming in the hazy distance atop an equally monumental mountain. "Holy smokes...!" His voice left him in a gasp, and soon did his balance. He teetered, tilted, and—

Th-Thud!

"Oh horseapples!" Lyra yelped. The ladder was still rattling to a sideways stop when she came down from her shocked jump. "Brad! Mister Brad!"

Octavia was the first to reach his side. "Shhhhhhh... easy there, sir." She steadied his stiff body with a gentle hoof placed on her shoulder. "No sudden movements. Stay calm. Now..." Her eyes narrowed. "Are any of your limbs broken?"

The legs in question stuck up like an orange cockroach's. Wide eyes beamed in the center of the stallion's face. "Mother of God..." To the mares' surprise, he shot up and sat in a dumbfounded stupor. "...you ponies built a high school on top of a mountain?!"

Octavia raised an eyebrow.

"Uhhhhhhh..." Lyra blanched. "What? High school?"

"Where the Hell do you have P.E.?" Flash teetered on the brink of dizziness and delirium. He smiled through the throbbing pain of having plummeted ten feet to the sidewalk. "Gotta watch out for those mountain goats at the line of scrimmage! Haha...!"

"Alright, good sir." Octavia gently hoisted the stallion to his legs. "Let's get you inside now."

"Do school buses just plummet into a ravine or what?"

"Shhhh..." Octavia gave him a shoulder to lean on as they hobbled inside the candy shop. "That's it. Keep asking questions. Even silly ones." She looked behind them. "Lyra, be a dear and go fetch Bon Bon."

"Right away!" Lyra nodded. After holding the door open for them, she scampered inside and towards the back. "Bon Bon! Quick! We have a gutter-cleaner down!"

Lobby

Flash was led inside the candy shop and it was then—under the bright glow of artificial lighting—that he finally experienced the full degree of dizziness. He stumbled more than once, much to his embarrassment, but Octavia was swift to keep him steady. Soon, he was led to a plush red chair situated in front of an adorably tiny round table. He sat down slowly, and as his vision fogged and unfogged, his ears made out Bon Bon's distressed voice.

"Oh goodness! Did he hurt himself?"

"Fell right off the ladder!" Lyra's voice squeaked. "I-I think he might have broken his spine in a million places!"

"Oh n-no!"

"He'll have to eat with the assistance of unicorn nurses! Bed sores will be his nemeses for the rest of his life!"

Octavia groaned, "Ladies... calm down. He just banged his head, that's all. Good heavens..."

"You okay there, Brad?" Bon Bon asked from behind the counter.

"What did Princess Buttercup ever see in Humperdinck?" Flash Sentry dribbled, eyes rolling. "She could have just said 'no' when he first proposed to her..."

Bon Bon and Lyra's noses scrunched with perfect synchronization. "Huh?"

"Ahem." Octavia looked over at the other mares. "Could you, perchance, procure something cold? Ice-chilled, preferably."

"For his head?" Bon Bon asked.

"Precisely." Octavia nodded.

"I-I've got some flavor ice!" Bon Bon said with a nervous lilt to her voice. Putting on a hopeful smile, she turned and dashed towards the back room. "Just wait right there!"

"I'll come help!" Lyra said, chasing the mare.

"Lyra, I can get it on my own—"

"I feel c-calmer around you, though!"

"Oh Lyra..."

As the pair rushed into the backroom, Flash Sentry sat up straight in the chair, catching his breath.

"Stay focused," Octavia spoke firmly. "Does it hurt?"

"Just... kind of woozy," Flash Sentry muttered, teetering a bit in his seat. He gulped. "Everybody... everypony here is so friggin' nice."

Octavia raised an eyebrow. "Is there a reason why we shouldn't be?"

"And another thing too..." Flash smiled crookedly as his vision fully returned. He glanced her way. "Is Carrot Cake—like—the only stallion in all of Equestria? Heheh... talk about pressure..."

"... ... ..." Wordlessly, Octavia took a calm seat across from him. She folded her forelimbs atop the table and gazed with placid purple eyes. "Mister Brad... you're not from around here, are you?"

"Heh..." He rubbed his head, only to wince. There was the pain. His spine shook, and soon he was sighing. "What was your first clue?"

"In fact, I doubt you're even from this continent," Octavia muttered. "Or this planet."

The teenager froze in place. He felt his ears drooping—his tail curling tightly to his flank. He knew that every pony body part was giving a pony signal of pony guilt. It didn't help that Octavia was staring resolutely—almost sternly—at him the entire time.

"Isn't that... k-kinda silly... M-Miss Melody?" he wheezed, feeling fifteen years younger and stupider in the crack of his voice.

"In a world ripe with magic, 'silly' comes with the territory," Octavia said matter-of-factly. Her tone was "librarian," Flash thought, and it almost eased him until she said the next bit: "But you wouldn't know much about magic, would you?" She tilted her head to the side. "Just as you wouldn't know anything about flying or the Princesses or Canterlot."

"You saying... that I'm not a pony?"

Octavia raised an eyebrow. "Is that what I'm saying?"

Flash winced. He rubbed the growing ache in his fuzzy skull and cursed beneath his breath.

"What exactly—pray tell—are 'shit nuggets?'" Octavia repeated.

A groan escaped the stallion's lips. "Please forgive me. I promise. I'm not here to hurt anypony."

"Oh, of that I am perfectly certain," Octavia said.

Flash's eyes darted her way. "You are?"

"You're not very much capable of anything, Mr. Brad," she said. "At least harmful." She waved a hoof in the air. "Your penchant for cleaning gutters is sublime. Let's not debate that." Her eyes narrowed. "But you're not exactly in your element, and I think it's remarkable that you've maintained yourself so well. Quite swimmingly so with the locals."

"But... n-not with you?" There was a melting tone to Flash's voice.

Octavia leaned back with a contemplative sigh. "To be perfectly honest, I didn't think much of it until you questioned the very nature of the Princesses."

"Yeah, well..." Flash chuckled out the side of his muzzle. "A dude who's into princesses probably needs to go see a shrink." He gulped. "I'm not making any since, am I? Do horses get concussions?"

Octavia suddenly asked: "Are you from the portal world?"

Flash did a double-take. "The what world?"

Octavia spoke: "A few months ago... something phenomenal happened across the Kingdom of Equestria. Now—we are used to magical anomalies." She rolled her eyes. "And villainous creatures—I shudder to say—happen with every season. But this scenario was quite different. It came and went like a summer storm." Her gaze centered on Flash as she explained, "Several large... holes opened in the sky. By that—I mean inexplicable gateways to another world. They were mostly witnessed by pegasi... but a few were seen by mountain villagers and valley townsfolk. Ponies described large... windows as t'were... windows that looked into a world with tall buildings made out of steel... wagons that could move on their own... and a curious population of bipedal creatures—all incredibly taller and larger than equine beings."

Flash was already chewing on his bottom lip. He thought about the Friendship Games. He thought about Principal Cinch egging on her prized pupil. He thought about the holes torn through reality as a result of it—and the near calamity that struck all of Canterlot High and the surrounding counties when a mystical demoness ultimately manifested herself. And after all the things he remembered, it was the very last detail that made him wince the most. He looked towards Octavia with a guilty expression, and he almost took responsibility for it all with the tone in his voice: "Was anypony hurt?"

Octavia tilted her head aside at that. "Not at all. At least—none that I'm aware of." She took a breath. "The portals disappeared just as quickly as they began. But ponies were talking about them for weeks afterwards. It didn't help that they helped confirmed some wild rumors that had been floating around for years."

"Rumors?"

"Of the gateways," Octavia said. "Canterlot Castle prides itself on having an exemplary, courageous, honorific Royal Guard." She nearly snorted—daintily so. "However, that does not stave off the inevitable gossip that comes with protecting such supremely important things. For a while now—ever since the redemption of Luna—there's been talk of gateways... mirror doors to other worlds. Several ponies believe that one exists in every royal castle in Equestria. In fact, a lot of ponies think that one is secretly being held here in Princess Twilight's palace."

"Gateways...?" Flash's muzzle hung agape. "You mean there's more than one?"

Octavia merely blinked.

With a gulp, Flash leaned away from her. "I really suck at this, don't I?"

"That depends." Octavia cocked her head aside. "Concern what must you be... 'sucking?'"

"You're... you're not afraid of me, are you?" Flash murmured.

After a deep breath, Octavia folded her forelimbs and said, "No."

Flash's shoulders relaxed slightly.

"At least, I'm not concerned for myself," Octavia murmured. "For you—on the other hoof—I don't quite know what to think. If you are indeed from another world completely... what would compel you to come here?"

"Please, I don't mean to make a big scene," Flash said.

"No offense, Mr. Brad—if that's your real name—but you're not exactly good at avoiding awkwardness, are you?"

He winced.

She saw it, and she donated a gentle smile to ease the tension. "I can tell that you're quite eager to make friends here. If it helps you to know, that's a remarkably equine trait... something that you should probably stick to if you truly intend to make yourself comfortable here."

"I'm not—like—moving to Equestria or anything."

"Are you not?"

Flash blinked.

"What would bring you here if not a desire for permanent residence?" Octavia asked. "I would shudder to think that you're 'spying.'"

"I'm not spying!" he hissed. His ears folded back as he sighed. "Look, I dunno. I just..." He gazed down at the floor. The pain in his head was throbbing now. "... ... ...I just want to be away for a while."

"Away from what?"

Flash clammed up.

Octavia nodded knowingly. "I do not mean to press. Regardless, I'm certain you can respect my concern."

"I do. And thank you." He looked up slightly. "It's appreciated. I'm sure the others would appreciate it too."

"From what I can tell, they don't know better. But mark my words—they'll notice soon enough. If you wish to continue this masquerade—for whatever purpose—you will wish to be less stiff about it."

"Stiff?"

"Relax. Be yourself," Octavia said. "For starters—what is your real name?"

"I... I'm not sure I can tell them..."

"But you can tell me," the mare remarked. "I do believe I deserve that, at least, yes?"

He gulped. "Flash," he said. "Flash Sentry."

Octavia let loose a delicate little laugh. "I don't see why you bothered with 'Brad.' Your real name is far more pony than anything else I've heard you say."

He smiled nervously at her. He breathed a bit easier.

"Well then, Mr. Sentry..." Octavia brushed her smoky bangs back. "Your secret is safe with me—at least until you're comfortable enough to tell the others yourself."

He practically whimpered: "Th-thanks. That means a whole lot to me."

"Yes..." Octavia squinted at him. Her voice was soft and contemplative. "I can tell that it does."

Before Flash could respond to that, the air filled with the scampering of little lady hooves.

"We're b-back!" Bon Bon exclaimed, carrying a plastic bag full of blue ice. "Sorry it took so long! I had to refill the ice machine with water!"

"And I helped!" Lyra exclaimed. Her horn glowed as she telekinetically grabbed the cold package and glided it across the air. "Here you go!"

The thing collided with Flash's skull, mushing in place. Whap!

"Ow!" Flash clenched his teeth hard. "Balls!"

"Lyra, honestly!" Octavia chided.

Lyra grimaced hard. "Oops..." She lifted a hoof, shivering. "I-I just wanted to make sure his head—"

"Was totally dashed asunder? Bloody Tartarus, love..." Octavia leaned in and gently spread the cold bag over Flash's forehead. "Here. Just apply gentle pressure. It should relieve the pain."

"Yeah... I getcha..." Flash leaned back, pressing the package to his skull—relishing in its cold, blissful touch. "And thanks." He looked over his shoulder. "I mean it."

"Just sit back and try to rest yourself," Bon Bon said with a smile. "We only want the best for you, Mr. Brad."

Flash glanced at Octavia, then back at the others. "Somehow... I totally believe that." He gulped. "Now... about the gutters..."

Bon Bon was about to protest...

...when the door to the front of the establishment ringed. A brownish-gray horse with slicked hair and a necktie mosey'd on in, standing tall and proud with an even taller, prouder smile. "Well, good day to you fine fillies," he said with a slight accent, deep and twangy. "Sure is a beautiful day in Ponyville, don'tcha think?"

Flash Sentry's blood ran cold, and it was not because of the ice.

"Filthy Rich!" Bon Bon chirped, instantly twirling to face him. "What a pleasure!"

"Uh uh uh..." Filthy waved a hoof, smiling. "Just 'Mr. Rich,' will do, darlin'. Heheh... we've been over this."

"A thousand pardons."

"How's business?"

"A little slow this week, but the numbers are better than last month."

"Well, I'm mighty glad to hear it!" Filthy adjusted his tie, admiring the decor of the place. "A young entrepreneurial soul such as yourself is bound to move up the ladder like lightning!"

Bon Bon giggled. "Well, I don't know about that, but I'm glad to have made friends with so many patrons."

"Now about that discussion we had last week..."

"Oh! Yes!" Bon Bon leaned on the tip of her hooves. "I'll have the peppermint rolls delivered by Friday!"

"By Friday? Why—my dear—you don't have to hurry! I was hoping for next Monday—"

"I... uh... I got an extra start." Bon Bon smiled sheepishly. "I really appreciate this opportunity to have my own patented sweets displayed at Barnyard Bargains."

"Well, it'll help us both, my dear," Filthy Rich said. "And you bet your pretty mane that I'll be passing out loads of pamphlets concerning this place." He leaned aside, winking. "I reckon you'll be referring ponies to my store all the same..."

"Heehee! You bet!"

"Well, alright then! Looks like all our ducks are in a row!" Filthy glanced at a tiny cylindrical canister atop the counter. "What's this here?"

"Uhm... a local fundraiser," Bon Bon explained. "It's to help Miss Cheerilee set up a new recreational center for colts and fillies."

"Well, sounds like a good cause if I've ever heard one!" Filthy reached into his bit bag and grabbed a liberal amount of coins. He proceeded to plink them neatly through the narrow slot of the canister. "Our young'ns are growing up mighty quick! Feels like only yesterday that lil' DT was learning how to trot on all four hooves. Figures she could learn a thing or two from a gymnasium. So could all the others."

"Hehe! I know, right?"

All the while, Flash was watching—and listening—with a stunned expression. His ears perked up as he murmured, "Holy cow..."

Octavia leaned in. "Hmmm? What seems to be the matter?"

"He's actually not a douche bag here..."

Octavia's muzzle scrunched. "I beg your pardon?"

Flash adjusted the cold press to his head as he looked at her. "You know... a douche..."

Octavia's muzzle scrunched even harder.

"That thing that girls use to clean their... I-I mean to rinse their..." Flash coughed. "Do horse girls even need to...?"

Octavia's muzzle resembled a velvety raisin at this point.

"Yeah..." Flash wheezed, turning towards the front of the candy store. "...not very 'relaxed,' Flash..."

Lyre

"Oh! Where are my manners?!" Filthy Rich exclaimed, having suddenly observed the existence of the blue-mane'd weirdo sitting awkwardly at the table. "I swear, if my head weren't attached to my body, I'd go on fishing everyday without it." He chuckled, if only to acknowledge how lame the attempt at a joke was. He crossed the distance of Bon Bon's shop and held a hoof out to Flash Sentry. "Good afternoon. The name's Rich. Mr. Rich. I run Barnyard Bargains right here in Ponyville."

Flash held a hoof out—uncertain how horses "shake." Thankfully, Mr. Rich took charge, giving Flash's fetlock a firm squeeze with the crook of his limb. "Uh... hiya, Fil—er... Mister Rich." Flash winced against the ice pack, but nevertheless smiled. "You could call me Brad."

"That's quite a nasty bump you've go there on your noggin', son," the stallion said, squinting quizzically. "Flying accident?"

"Actually, he fell off the ladder outside while trying to clean the gutters," Lyra said, wincing.

"Mmmmm... my my..." Filthy tongued the inside of his muzzle. "Ain't it a sorry thang when good ponies experience bad things while doing nice deeds?"

Flash wasn't certain why, but he felt a slight warmth springing from the inside. He hadn't much time to dwell on that—

"Mind if I take a gander?" Filthy asked, leaning in. "I promise I won't touch no bruises or nothing."

Bon Bon cocked her head to the side. "You've got medical expertise, Mr. Rich?"

"Oh... I know a thing or two," he said, smirking. With gentle gestures, he guided Flash in removing the ice press so he could look at the teenager's fuzzy skull up close. "I went halfway through nursing school way back when. There was a brief time when I didn't fancy following in my father's and grandfather's hoofsteps, but—alas—patching ponies up just wasn't my thing. I much rather patch up checkbooks, if you catch my drift. Eheh..."

"Well, I'm sure you've found ways to be..." Flash Sentry winced slightly as he tilted his head towards Filthy. "...altruistic anyways."

"We do what we can," Filthy said, squinting. "Hmmmm... hmmm—yup. I see."

"Is it bad, Doc?" Lyra asked, leaning forward. "Er... I mean, Mr. Rich?"

"Just had a nasty spill, is all," Filthy said, gazing deep into Flash's eyes. "I don't think it's a concussion." He leaned back with a smirk. "You're a lucky colt, Mr. Brad. If you fell any harder, we might be rushing you to Ponyville Central by now."

"Hey..." Flash shrugged with a crooked smile. "...when you've got four horseshoes at any given time, I guess you can't complain."

"Whoah..." Lyra looked down at Flash's hooves. "You wear horseshoes?!"

"You must be super rich!" Bon Bon added.

Flash blinked. He hadn't expected that. "Uhhhhh..."

"I do believe it was a figure of speech," Octavia remarked.

"Not like any figure of speech I've ever heard," Filthy Rich said, straightening his tie as he studied Flash some more. "You've got a curious accent about you, son. From what part of Equestria do you hail?"

Flash's ears instantly drooped. He pressed the pack to his head again—wincing from the pressure he was nervously applying. "Uhhhhhhhhh—"

"Quite far away," Octavia blurted. "Beyond Griffonstone."

Bon Bon and Lyra exchanged glances.

"Beyond... Griffonstone...?" Filthy Rich blinked. "I had no earthly idea that ponies lived that far across the sea!"

"Neither did I," Octavia said. "Until Mr. Brad and I here had a lovely chat."

Flash glanced at Octavia.

Octavia glanced back. "Thankfully, ponies—even from that great a distance—know how to preserve good Equestria manners."

Flash blinked. Slowly, his ears perked back up as he relaxed. He gave Octavia a thankful smile. She merely responded with classy deadpan.

"Well, I for one am glad for those manners," Bon Bon said. "Thank you so kindly for fixing our gutters, Brad." She stepped over. "Seriously, though—if you suffer any injuries because of that fall you took, I promise I'll cover for the doctor's visit."

"Ohhhhh... I don't think it's quite that serious, little filly!" Filthy Rich exclaimed. "You did the right thing in getting him something icy to sooth the sting."

"Any... uhm... suggestions for what to do next?" Bon Bon asked.

"Well, I reckon some relaxation would be in order," Filthy said. "Maybe some music. You ask me—that there's the best medicine anypony could have."

Lyra was suddenly gasping wide. "Oh! Oh! I-I've got that covered!" She darted into the back of the confectionery.

"Ohhhhh come on, Lyraaaaa." Bon Bon rolled her eyes.

"No. Please." Octavia waved a hoof. "Indulge her." Her fuzzy lips curved slightly. "It's been quite a while since I've enjoyed the lulling strings of your roommate."

"What...?" Flash turned his neck, wincing slightly. "Does Miss Heartstrings have a studio in the back of this candy shop?"

The lime-green shape in question trotted briskly back, levitating a lyre by her side. "Actually, I do." She paused in place, blushing slightly. "Well... sort of... it's the next best thing to one." She glanced at Octavia, her amber eyes sparkling. "At least until I get to borrow a professional studio for a week or two."

"And I look forward to what you produce," Octavia said. "Here and now."

"Oh! A little concert! How delightful!" Filthy Rich took it upon himself to sit down beside Octavia and Flash. "Well, what are you waiting for, Missy?"

"Ah jeez..." Lyra suddenly fidgeted. The lyre rattled in her magical grasp. "Suddenly I've got an audience." She gulped. "I'm not too good with crowds."

"Seriously?" Bon Bon droned. "Four ponies is a crowd?"

"Heh..." Flash waved his free hoof. "Pretend I'm not here. Make it three again."

"But..." Lyra pouted. "I wanted you to hear it the most. You're the one who took the bump, after all."

"I'll just close my eyes." Flash did so, exhaling. "Pretend I'm at home listening to my stereo..."

"Do they have good acoustics in Griffonstone?"

"Lyra." Bon Bon barked.

"Right! Uhm... here's... uh... a ballad I've been working on. Well... I guess it's not a ballad since it's just an instrumental, but... er... you just tell me what you think."

Flash sensed Octavia's seat shifting as the musical mare leaned forward—genuinely interested in her acquaintance's talent. He smelled the cologne wafting off of Filthy Rich's figure behind him. Last but not least, he heard the hooftrots of Bon Bon as she shuffled out from behind the counter.

So many adults with so much to do, Flash pondered. Do they actually have the time to just... burn in sitting here and listening to a spontaneous musical performance?

Flash thought about the world he came from. He tried to envision everyone suddenly stopping in place... enjoying the moment... listening to someone playing a musical instrument pulled out impulsively from the stockroom of a random cafe. The more he contemplated it, the more his intestines twisted around each other—for it was impossible. It was simply impossible for the world to stop at any given moment. Society would completely collapse if it paused for any stretch of time longer than a second. The cell phones... the work schedules... the bill payments and the shipping orders would all catch fire. Everything would implode—even in Italy.

But these ponies...?

These ponies were different. Somehow they knew how to live for living's sake—even self-important wealthy citizens such as Filthy Rich.

But soon, Flash wasn't thinking about anything at all—for his ears were being filled with music, and his skull by extension. Lyra's chords filled the room with a soothing sonic salve, and it felt for a moment as though Flash was swimming in it. His eyes were already closed, so he just drifted with the notes, intoxicated by their exotic quality.

Flash had never listened to a lyre performance before. Perhaps there were times, he imagined: late, light nights spent on Youtube in a sleep-deprived drunken stupor, scouring the world's history of musical instruments in order to chase away the remorse of another day spent doing nothing.

But this? This was different. This was real. Sure, it was painted with pastel pony fuzz and projected by Disneyesque extremes of otherworldly magic, but it was alive... it was just a few feet away from him... and—more than all of that—it was earnest. It was a gift. It was something from the heart, from the soul, and—miraculously enough—given directly to him.

For a brief moment, Flash Sentry almost remembered what it felt like.

Just as his eyelids started to burn, the music ended—much sooner than he wanted—and he was forced to open his gaze to a bright world filled with applause.

"Bravo! Bravo!" Filthy Rich exclaimed, clopping his hooves against the floor. "A real treat, Miss Heartstrings! Through and through!"

"Way to go, Lyra," Bon Bon said with a wink.

"You..." Lyra bit her bottom lip, smiling through her green dimples. "You really liked it?"

"Absolutely, love," Octavia said. "A tad bit rough at the start, but that's to be expected with an impromptu performance." She brushed her smoky bangs back. "With practice, you can very easily make a studio recording of that."

"I really liked the melody at the end," Flash said with a smile. He had completely forgotten the ache in his skull, so he rested the cold press ont the tabletop. "It really brought the whole piece together after the bridge."

Lyra glanced over at him, eyes narrowing. "Are... you a musician, Brad?"

Flash answered without thinking: "Totally! I mean, it's been a long time since I've played guitar."

"Oooh! You're a guitarist!"

"Yup!"

"You know any rad songs?"

He chuckled. "Plenty!"

"Wait right here!" Lyra galloped to the backroom.

Flash blinked. His smile faded. "Wait..."

With the pitter-patter of hooves, Lyra returned, telekinetically dragging a long-necked instrument. She leaned it against the table before Flash. "Here you go!"

"... ... ..." Flash looked at the instrument. In an equally dumb stupor, he glanced down at his flat, blunt hooves. "Uhm..."

"Lyra..." Bon Bon sighed through a tired smile. "Must you?"

"I must admit..." Filthy Rich stood with a pleasant expression. "I'm mighty curious what kind of music gets cooked up on the other side of Griffonstone." He winked at the teenager. "Judging from your neighbors... I can't imagine it's all too relaxing."

"It's... not that... just..." Flash grimaced, gingerly grasping the guitar in his fetlocks. Already—he nearly lost his balance of the thing and had to rush forward to grasp it before it fell to the shop's floor. "Like... how?" He gaped at Octavia. "How, even?"

Octavia gave him a knowing glance. Clearing her throat, she said, "Nopony's pressuring you into playing—"

"I thought this sort of thing came natural to pegasi," Lyra remarked with a blink. "It's why I've never bothered mastering it. Y'know... I-I just attempt shredding every now and then. Still... heehee... I can't jam like Thunderlane can."

"Thunderlane?" Flash blinked. "Is that a band?"

"No, it's a pegasus. And a very boastful one, too." Bon Bon squinted Lyra's way. "Lyra, I thought you were going to repair that for him."

Lyra hissed back: "He's too busy chasing Blossomforth. What does he know?"

"Lyraaaaaaa..."

Filthy Rich chuckled.

"Just... uhm..." Flash looked the guitar over like it was made out of radioactive uranium. "...what gives us pegasi an advantage, anyways?"

"Uhhhhhhh..." Lyra merely stared at him. "Your feathertips?"

"Feathertips?"

Octavia cleared her throat daintily. "It's an ancient art. Dating back to Pegasopolitan harpists."

Flash Sentry looked at the guitar, then at his wings. He clenched his jaw as he flexed muscles that he didn't know he could flex before. Like magic, two phantom limbs opened up on either side of him... becoming real. With a little bit of fiddling around, he found that he could stick individual feathers straight out—one at a time—or all at once. On top of that, he found that their quills were indeed rigid enough to...

"Hmmmm..." The teenager took a deep breath. "...what the Hell." Then—biting his lip—he stuck the feathers outwards, stretching them forward towards where he had the guitar cradled in his forelimbs. He had to slouch back a bit—or perhaps a lot—but he found that he could easily wrap his wings around the neck of the guitar and its lower frets. So, with slight boldness, he began plucking away. The notes that struck the air sounded like a chicken getting disembowled. He winced. "Christ!"

The other ponies winced as well.

"Perhaps... it could use some tuning?" Filthy Rich suggested.

"It's not the guitar," Flash grumbled. "It's me."

Sensing the stallion's frustration, Bon Bon cleared her throat with a gentle smile. "It's okay. You just suffered a nasty fall. You needn't—"

"Wait. Just hold up." Flash licked his lips liberally. Sweat formed against his fuzzy forehead as he struggled to force his feathertips into a memorized rhythm. "I think I can just... I can just..." It was true; even if he wasn't stuck in a winged horse's body, he was rusty as Hell. It had been many months since he last strummed a guitar with human limbs. Coincidentally, it had been several more months since he last felt happy.

But this? This moment needed to stay pristine. So he tried... so he struggled... and after two awkward minutes filled with discordant plinking and planking—he finally mastered the elementary tabs that he wanted.

"Ha!" He grinned wide, wider. "HaHA!" This outburst was followed by foalish giggles, and in the end he was gazing at the other four with a stupid grin. "Smoke on the Water!"

The ponies merely exchanged glances.

Flash cleared his throat. "Uhm... f-fire in the sky?"

"It's certainly... uhm..." Bon Bon began.

"...exotic?" Filthy Rich finished.

"That's really, really nifty," Lyra said.

"Eh..." Flash shrugged, laying the guitar down. "I'm super rusty."

"No, I mean it!" Lyra grinned. "Is that the kind of music they play in your land?"

"A little too much on the classic fm stations, but... sure!"

"Maybe you could teach it to me!" Lyra exclaimed. "Or... any others you know?"

"Oh Luna." Bon Bon shook her head, chuckling. "Now you've got her started."

"Hey!" Lyra pouted. "If a pony from a faraway land came in with a snazzy candy recipe, would you refuse him?"

Bon Bon tilted her chin up. "Some of us like to stay original."

Lyra stuck her tongue out. "Liar liar, saddle on fire!"

"Heh..." Filthy Rich shrugged. "Guess you can't learn a culture in a day!"

All this time, Flash was rubbing his chin. He looked left and then right... then smiled. "Y'know... I could maybe teach you something."

Lyra gasped. "Really? You can?"

"I... uh..." Flash squirmed in his seat. "I'd need some music sheets, though."

"Say no more." Octavia reached into her saddlebag.

Flash glanced at her. "You walk around with music sheets?"

"Never leave home without them." The mare looked up with a smile as she retrieved several leaves of marked paper. "In case of a musical emergency."

Flash could only smirk.

Ponies.

"What do you have in mind, Mr. Brad?" Filthy asked. "An orchestral epic from days of yore?"

"Something like that," Flash muttered, scooting his chair closer to the table and the sheets. "For most peop—horses my age, 1992 is as 'yore' as 'yore' gets."

"He..." Filthy glanced confusedly at Bon Bon. "...doesn't look Saddle Arabian."

"Anybody got a pen?" Flash asked. Octavia rolled one to him. The stallion found himself staring awkwardly at the tool. He glanced at Octavia.

Octavia silently moved her lips: "Use your mouth."

Taking a deep breath, Flash clasped the pen between his teeth and began—slowly but surely—marking musical notes all across the sheets in front of him. Octavia and Lyra watched intently the entire time.

"That reminds me." Filthy turned to Bon Bon. "I recall you saying that you intended to update your store sign, Miss Bon Bon. I think I can get you in touch with a local repairstallion who'll tackle the job at half the price."

"Oh! That would be most delightful, Mr. Rich."

"Granted..." Filthy smiled. "No amount of prettifying on the outside can capture the mirth that you maintain here on the inside."

"Heh... you flatter me, Mr. Rich."

"Well, if I got paid for flattering, I'd retire Barnyard Bargains in a heartbeat!"

"You would not."

"Okay. I suppose you know me too well."

"Heeheeheee..."

At last, Flash finished with writing the instrumental. "Ah... there we go."

"I commend you on your memory," Octavia said. "Not... so much on your hoofwriting."

Lyra giggled.

"Eh... whatever," Flash said. "At least it's legible, right?"

"Totally!" Lyra said with a nod.

"Wanna give it a shot?"

Lyra leaned back, wide-eyed. "Me?"

"You're the one with the lyre," he said, gesturing.

"I... uh... I m-might mess it up."

"Go ahead, Lyra," Bon Bon said. "You're a natural."

"Well... okay th-then..." Lyra floated the sheets in front of her while grasping her lyre. "Here goes." She gulped... then began plucking away.

"Start in E minor," Flash said.

"Thanks." Lyra held her breath, concentrated, and rolled her way into a beautifully melancholic instrumental.

Flash took the time to look at the others. The performance sounded considerably different on a lyre, but it had its intended effect. The muzzles of all three ponies seated around him dropped simultaneously—including Octavia's. For a moment there, it looked as though Filthy Rich was going to break out into tears. A smile drew across Flash's muzzle, and by the time the instrumental ended, he looked in Lyra's direction.

The mare completed her performance with a sigh. She hugged the lyre to her chest. "That was... was..."

"The most divine thing I've ever heard," Octavia exhaled.

"It was really... really good," Bon Bon stammered. Swallowing dryly, she looked in Flash's direction, eyes bright and yearning. "What's it called?"

Flash leaned back with a proud feeling in his chest. "Nothing Else Matters," he said. "By... uhm... a travelling pony minstrel troupe named Metallica."

"They... must be a legend in the lands beyond Griffonstone," Filthy Rich said.

"They were once," Flash mused. "Nowadays, they're a legend in some random uptown Armani's... but hey..." He shrugged, chuckling. "Once you're a god of metal you can afford to live like one."

"Uhm..." Lyra brushed her mane back. "I really really liked that song. C-can I keep the sheets, Brad? I think I'd like to perform that again..."

"You're not alone, love," Octavia remarked, genuinely enthused. "Bloody Tartarus... I wonder how that would sound on a cello."

"Oh! Dude!" Flash sat up with a bright grin. "You haven't lived until you've heard Apocalyptica's cover of—" He winced in mid-sentence, then cleared his throat. "Ahem... What I meant was: knock yourself out."

"I... think that I might just do that."

"In the studio?!" Lyra beamed.

"If you would be so kind as to accompany me, dear... with that music, of course."

"You okay with that, Brad?" Lyra asked.

"You've got a studio here in Ponyville?" Flash asked.

"Indeed we do. Vinyl and I..." Octavia's words trailed off. She looked at the floor... then back at Flash once again. "...would you care to see it?"

Flash glanced aside at Bon Bon and Filthy Rich, ponies who had stopped all they were doing to enjoy the nonsensical death of time. He himself had barely finished cleaning out Bon Bon's gutters. He had a ladder to return. Somewhere, a middle-aged mare had promised him banana bread. On top of all of that, a mirror rested off-limits in the basement of a giant crystalline tree palace, the one final barrier between home and a world he had no business wasting his time in.

"Sure thing!" He hopped up to his hooves with a dumb grin. "Lead the way!"

Studio

If someone decided to put a gun to Flash Sentry's head, he'd be forced to admit that—yes—he once had a crush on Vinyl Scratch. But that wasn't saying much. Several boys (and girls) in class had fallen for her at one point or another—if only briefly. There was such a delightful mystique about the soft-spoken, shades-wearing, music-jamming seraph of neon and night. It certainly didn't help that she constantly kept to herself, enshrouding her own true nature in a cryptic cocoon bolstered by sonic vibrations. She was the very epitome of cool, slick, and stylish—and what made her infinitely more attractive was that she didn't seem to care what the world thought of her or what the social standard for "normal" was. She enjoyed life as a never-ending sound booth for art and enthusiasm, and nothing in that universe—temporal or otherwise—could even pretend to stop her.

So, as one would imagine, Flash's stomach should have been full of butterflies every minute that he sat there in a studio alongside the flesh-and-blood equine doppelganger of said musical maiden.

In truth, though, he was too busy being mesmerized by her music to give the mare a second thought.

Vinyl Scratch sat her cute pony butt on a stool, adjusting a soundboard with cute pony hooves, twitching her cute pony ears to the beat. It wasn't just any beat, but an orgasm of electronica conjured up by a cornucopia of otherworldly samples—none of which Flash had ever heard before. Flash tried naming off all of the techno prodigies he knew in his head: Royksopp, Daft Punk, Anoorak, Aphex Twin, Crystal Castles. But—somehow—all of those delightful talents tossed into a bowl and mashed to a pulp still wouldn't taste as delicious, as surprising, as exotic as the stuff his ears were bearing witness to now. Somehow, he knew that it was because every auditory thing he tasted in this world was unprecedented and unknown. But he also knew that—deep down—this Vinyl Scratch (whether or not she was anything like the human he observed from across the school campus day to day) was simply a master at what she did. So, in the end, it was a mix of talent and exotica.

And, in the end, Flash was finding it very hard not to drool.

"Oh... oh that's wicked cool," he wheezed like a breathless middle schooler. He felt his own ears twitching to the beat. He imagined that he resembled an orange rabbit on ecstasy. "Oh man... heheh..." He smiled dumbly to match his cooing tone, then flashed Vinyl a mesmerized look. "And you're telling me that these are all samples taken from... from... some forest?"

Vinyl nodded with a knowing smirk... a smirk that was confident yet humble. She turned a dial and she exposed several of the background overlays so that they came to the forefront of the studio speakers surrounding them. Flash heard what sounded like guttural roars forming a bass beat, looped expertly with no sign of stopping.

"What... is that thing?" Flash stammered.

"First of all," Octavia spoke from the back of the studio—jolting Flash out of the moment. She shuffled through a few music sheets he had scribbled down and casually explained: "It's the Everfree Forest. The samples taken were recorded from pioneer ponies over forty years ago."

"Is that why they sound so lo-fi?"

"Mmmm. Yes. And as for that bass sound..." Octavia's purple eyes darted up from the sheets. "I do believe that is the bellicose lungs of a hydra." She glanced at Vinyl. "Am I right, love?"

Vinyl nodded.

"Hydra?" Flash turned, teetered in his stool. "What—we talking Red Skull n'stuff?"

"Erm..." Octavia fidgeted.

"Eheh..." Flash waved an orange hoof. "Never mind." He sighed, smiling. He was delirious. Drunk. "And what are those crunching sounds mixed with the bass? Every five seconds or so—" He heard it and pointed at the speakers. "There!"

Vinyl whistled, then charaded a creature howling towards the invisible moon.

"Timberwolves," Octavia interpreted. "Not many samples of those. Vinyl's outdone herself."

Vinyl turned to smile at Flash.

"Uhm..." Flash gulped, seeing his timid reflection in her purple shades. "She's looking at me, Miss Melody. What do I do?"

"She wants to know if you approve of her work in progress."

"Oh! Totally! I mean... hell..." He pointed at his ears. "These tell you everything, right? I'm totally digging it!"

Vinyl giggled breathily and waved a hoof. Her horn glowed ever so slightly.

"She's quite amused at your enthusiasm," Octavia muttered, returning to the sheets.

"You read her like a book, don't you?" Flash asked.

"Is there a reason I shouldn't?"

Flash's mind wandered through the mirror. He recalled moments where the two teenage girls of musical mirth sat next to one another at the cafeteria or on the bleachers. As far as he could remember, their friendship was casual... a faint acquaintance at best. But here—it would seem—such an acquaintanceship was far more ardent. Unbreakable. He couldn't help but notice that it was somewhat the same with Lyra and Bon Bon as well. What was it—Flash pondered—about the mirror and the emotions that this side of the portal so delightfully refracted?

"You know, Vinyl," Octavia spoke. "I'm certain he would appreciate your most recent works. Especially with full immersion."

Vinyl instantly understood her roommate. Nodding, she spun a one-eighty on her stool and hopped off. The mare trotted casually towards the far end of the studio where a pair of closet doors rested.

As Vinyl made her way to the edge of the room, Octavia scooted closer to Flash in her desk chair. The stallion watched as the dainty mare came within whispering range. "I imagine she would be just as captivated as you are if she visited your world and listened to your audio library."

"I... I dunno..." Flash bore a crooked smile. "Not many artists I know creep into an Everfree Forest to record their samples."

"Even still, I can't quite believe what I'm witnessing myself here." Slightly breathless, Octavia held up the sheets that Flash had scribbled over the past hour. "These two songs in particular are just... m-mesmerizing..." She took a deep breath. "And so melancholic. I'm already trying to imagine them in my head, but I suspect I'll be in for a real treat once I put them to cello."

"Yes, well..." Flash chuckled slightly. "Mumford and Sons will have that effect on you."

"I suppose I will have to wait and see." Octavia shuffled to another sheet. "But I'm absolutely dying to try this most delightful tune. The harmony seems... just so invigorating..."

"Uhhhhhhhhhh..." Flash blushed deeply. "Eheheheh..."

Octavia raised an eyebrow. "Is something the matter?"

"Sorry. I was just... so thrilled to be in a music studio again," he remarked, gulping. "I-I-I sorta stopped thinking around the time that I wrote that one down. I don't even know how I remembered it so suddenly. I wasn't using my head. Sorry."

"Well, I'm certain I will be quite impressed." Octavia's squinting eyes wandered up to the top of the sheet. "Though... I am tempted to ask... precisely what is a Smash Mouth?"

Just then, Vinyl Scratch returned with an extra pair of headphones. She whistled, gesturing at Flash.

"Oh! Hey!" Flash pivoted in his stool to face her. "What do we have here?"

"Ah. Brilliant, Vinyl," Octavia said.

With calm motions, Vinyl slapped a drawer beside the sound board. A shelf slid out, layered with bright multi-colored gems. Crystals—actually—as Flash soon noticed. They were small, slender, almost cylindrical. Vinyl browsed through the tiny labels, then grabbed a bright glowing yellow gem. She slid it into an appropriate chamber housed on the right side of the headphones, then locked it into place. Swiveling in her chair, she presented the article to Flash with a smile.

"Uhhhhhhhh..." Flash pensively grasped the headphones and held them above his cranium. "Will these fit on my bigass ears?"

"Oh, don't be a silly sod." Octavia waved a fetlock. "It won't make your skull implode."

"If you say so." And Flash lowered the headphones over his ears. It was amazingly light—even with the glowing crystal that had been inserted. "Huh. That's snazzy. Uhm... now what—?"

Vinyl leaned in and pressed a button situated on the left clamshell of the device. Click!

Almost instantly, a trance track began playing, using natural samples that were even more heart-stopping and mystical than the ones Flash had just finished listening to in that studio. He felt like he was being ferried off to another world—despite the alien soundscape where he had already been sitting. His eyes closed and the teenager purred like a cat. He sailed into sonic bliss on a smile, feeling waves splash on all sides, accompanied by angelic harmonies and vocal manipulations.

"Hmmmmmmmm... Christ on a pogostick..." When he opened his eyes, they were practically rolling. "Heehee... your crystal is singing to me..."

"It's a sound stone," Octavia calmly explained from beyond the symphony. "Usually, they're utilized for multi-leyline communication. But this one houses a closed mana-circuit, so the sound that's inputted is contained within the limited leylines."

"So... it's basically a magical unicorn mp3 player."

Vinyl and Octavia exchanged confused looks.

"Uhhhhhh..."

"Never mind..." Flash chuckled, and he felt his heart leaking through his muzzle. "Just ignore me." He sighed. "I don't exist." He sighed again, relaxing in the saccharine shadows of yesterday. "I'm not here..." He felt his body vibrating inside and out. He was tired... but energetic. He felt hungry, but not for banana bread. His wingtips fluttered, and he felt more real with them than ever before. "Wish... I could fly to this shit. It's so awesome..."

Vinyl gestured something.

"Well, can't you?" Octavia asked.

Flash jolted. The music drew into the corner of his mind as he glanced across the shadows at the two mares. "Maybe..." His ears curled beneath the headphones, and he felt his tail resting between his legs. "...if somepony taught me?"

Octavia stifled a dainty laugh. "Do I look like Rainbow Dash?"

Flash's reply was surprisingly swift and confident. "No. You most certainly don't."

"Well, she's not in town at the moment," Octavia mused aloud. "Last time I checked. And Cloud Kicker is off farting about... insatiable trollop..."

"Uhhhhh..."

Vinyl tapped Octavia's shoulders. Once she got her roommate's attention, the unicorn slid her shades up and rolled her eyes in opposite directions.

"Hah!" Octavia smirked mischievously. "Oh, Vinyl, love. As if."

"What?" Flash asked.

Octavia gave him a sideways glance. "Forget about it. You... uhm... you would do well to wait for the likes of Rainbow Dash."

Flash shuddered. "No. I really can't. If somepony's in town giving flying lessons, then I'm game!"

"You... would do well to stifle such impulsiveness."

"Just tell meeeeee..."

Vinyl gave Octavia a curious glance.

Tavi sighed. "Alright... since you've been so kind to give us these delightful compositions. Although, I must warn you..." She raised an eyebrow. "You should probably pack a helmet."

Flash blinked. "Buh?"

Muffins

She hopped sideways over the thrift store's counter, knocking over loose pots and pans. "You came to the right place, Mr. Bard!"

"Uhm..." Flash smiled nervously, leaning away from her. "It's Brad."

"Flying is as easy as one-two-three!" The pegasus smiled in opposite directions, stretching her gray feathers. "Even a foal can do it, so what's stopping you, Mr. Bard?" Her appendages blurred as she lifted towards the ceiling. "All you gotta do is flap your wings like so, and then gravity does the rest! Er..." Her wall-eyes squinted as she held a hoof to her chin. "...or maybe it's the other way around? Anyways... just avoid the earth and don't get too close to the sun! Easy-peasy!" She struck the ceiling of the store. Bonk! "Ouchies!" Her body plummeted like a feathery missile.

"Sh-shit!" Flash gritted his teeth and galloped forward. He caught her falling figure just in time.

Thwump! She landed on his flank, legs and chin dangling backwards. She smiled over his slack tail. "Lookie! Such reflexes! You'll be doing loopty-loops in no time! Heehee!"

Flash was stuck between panicking and laughing. So he chose to shiver instead.

"Look..." He lowered his body down so she could trot off his flank. "Miss... Miss—"

"Hooves." She explained, curtsying on little horse hooves. "Derpy Hooves, at your service."

"Wait..." Flash squinted at her.

"No relationship to the great pop singer Groovin' Hooves," she inexplicably explained.

"Who... is Groovin' Hooves?"

"Oh! You don't know him? Good!" She held a dainty hoof over her fuzzy muzzle as she giggled like a child. Squeaky. Innocent. "I really really hate it when my clients get on pins and needles around me."

"Your name is... Derpy?" Flash remarked. "Like... really? Truly? Actually?"

"Yes?" She tilted her head to one side and her eyes to another. "Why? Is something wrong with that?"

Flash bit his lip. He thought about a curious girl from Canterlot High. A silent pariah of goofy proportions—always at the focal point of one calamity or another. New students instantly hated her—but soon got used to her clumsy, silly mannerisms. For the most part, she was harmless... but also charismatic and amusing. Perfect mascot material. Still, it didn't stop freshmen and new exchange students from adopting a gloriously cruel nickname for the young woman.

"It's just that... I've always felt..." Flash winced. "I mean, the name 'Derpy' seems so... so... mean."

The mare shrugged. "Any meaner than 'Cranky?' Or 'Filthy?' Or 'Pipsqueak?'" She winked towards the walls. "This is an earth pony town, Mr. Bard. Not all names need to be fancy. We central Equestrians are an honest bunch."

"Yeah... y-yeah, I get that." Flash took a calming breath. "I, for one, always thought you were a sincere person. Just not very talkative. But here? You're super different."

"What do you mean..." Derpy leaned forward with curiosity. "I'm 'super different' here?"

Flash paled. "Uhhhhhhhhhhhh..." He brushed his bangs back, worrying over how naturally he was starting to shovel internal monologue onto the bowl of his tongue. "Guess I just had a case of... deja vu?" It was honest enough, or so he told himself.

Thankfully, Derpy was just as carefree and fun-loving as her googly-eyed human counterpart. "Works for me!" She filled the thrift store with more of her adorable giggles. "So, you wanna learn how to fly, huh?"

"Uhm... just a lesson or two," Flash asked. "If... that's not too much to ask."

"Nope! And you're never too old to learn! What are you, anyways? Thirty-three and a half?"

"Errrrrrr..."

"Aaaaaaaanywho, let's find a place with more feather room!" She trotted briskly for the door.

"Wait." Flash pivoted about, holding a hoof out. "I... I'm sorry to be a bitch about it, but... erm..." He smiled nervously. "I'm kind of low on bits. So... in exchange for a lesson or two... maybe I can... uhm... do something to clean up around here? Clear some of the dust off your store's shelves?"

"Nope!" She shook her head, eyes rattling. "That won't be necessary!"

"No?"

"I stopped charging clients for flying lessons months ago!"

"Really? How come?"

"I dunno. You'll have to ask them. Half are still recuperating in Ponyville Central!"

"Uhhhhh..."

"Right, then!" She grabbed a basket and rushed out the front door, knocking over a few plastic flamingoes and lawn chairs in her way. "Let's get to cloud huffing!"

"Wait..." Flash stumbled after her, pointing at the basket. "What are the muffins for?"

"Courage!" she beamed. "Or—if we get eviscerated by a tree branch—they make for great blood sponges! Could you lock the door behind us? Thankies! There's a good bard..."

Wings

"Okay, Mr. Bard..." Derpy stood atop a hill, staring vigilantly against the afternoon sunlight. The winds kicked at her blonde threads as she pointed her snout towards the bright sky in a stalwart manner. "Anypony who's anypony will want to start by following the east wind. Flying east is easy, you see."

"But... uhm..." Flash Sentry put down the basket of muffins and pointed past her. "Aren't we facing west, Miss Hooves?"

She blinked. Eyes rolled. Nostrils flared. "...And congratulations!" She spun one hundred and eighty degrees with a grin. "You just passed your first test! Cardinal proficiency! Heehee."

"Heh..." Brad's smile was a fuzzy, crooked thing. "Go me."

"Lesson Number Two!" Derpy took a few steps and plopped her flank down onto the hilltop. Thud. The resulting impact legitimately startled Flash—as if the mare's gray hindquarters were inexplicably comprised of dark matter or something. "Aerial integration!" she continued, chipper. "It's the key to mastering the sky and... y'know... all the floaty-floaty molecules in between the earth and space!"

"What... uhm... do you mean by 'aerial integration?'"

"Shhhhhh..." Derpy smiled at opposite horizons. "You hear that?"

Flash tilted his head aside. He put extra effort into perking a fuzzy ear up into the lower levels of the troposphere. "Uhm... the wind?"

"It speaks to usssss," Derpy cooed, blonde tail flicking. "Listen to its rhythm. Become one with the midair mantra." She breathed in. She breathed out. Her eyes closed as she smiled. "I'm starving."

Flash blinked. "The sky's hungry?"

"No, I am. Pass me one of those muffins." One amber eye squinted open. "Please?" she chirped.

With a shrug, Flash reached a wing into the basket and obliged her. Soon, she was chomping away, littering the hilltop with raisiny-muffiny-crumblies.

"Mmmmmmmm... always... mrmmfff... let the sky know who's boss... mrmmfff..." She finished the treat, rubbing the pastry mess off her muzzle. "It's a known fact that the atmosphere has no esophagus. Let it be jealous of you. Best to wear out the sky's anger before you take off, you catch my drift? Heehee."

"I... I-I'm not sure I follow, Miss Hooves—"

"Lesson C!" Derpy stood up tall. "Wait... was I counting by letters or numbers?"

"Uhhhhhh—"

"Anyfuzz, there are two super duper important things to pay attention to when you go airborne." Derpy began pacing around the hilltop. "Fancy-schmancy Cloudsdalian skynauts like to use the terms 'altitude' and 'terrain.' But me? I like to call it 'sky' and 'not-sky.' One's brighter than the other, you see." She paused, her nose scrunching. "Unless you're flying at night. In which case, you should probably flip the two around." Her nose scrunched even harder. "Except for when it's overcast, where everything is dark... in which case you're probably better off taking a train to your destination." She giggled sideways. "You ever taken the Pony Express to the Crystal Kingdom? It's beautiful and shiny this time of year. Just be sure to set up your Fast Passes in advanced—"

Flash coughed. Loudly. "You know what?" He put on a plastic smile. "Maybe this was a bad idea. I'm sure you'd... uh..." He made to turn around and trot downhill. "...have lots of muffins that need being eaten—"

"Nonsense!" Derpy was suddenly in front of him, startling the teenager. "Why would I want to be doing anything else than showing a fellow pegasister how to embrace the beauty of flight?!"

Flash squinted at her. "... ... ...'pegasister'?"

"Oh! Oops... uhm..." Derpy blushed, toeing the blades of grass beneath them. "Sorry. Most of my friends are mares. I guess I don't know a better play-on-word for this scenario."

Flash looked at the sky. He looked at the ground. He looked somewhere in between. "... ... ...'Brony?'"

"Duaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!" Derpy leaned forward from the weight of a ginormous grin. "I have to write that dowwwwwwn! Ohgosh! Ohgosh! Ohgosh! You're a smart one, Bard!"

"Hey..." Flash shrugged with a suave smile. "It's in the name."

"Heeheehee... hmmmm..." Delirious, Derpy reached blindly into the basket and scarfed down another muffin. "Mrmmmffff... so... mrmffff... what were we doing again?"

"Flight lessons?"

"Oh right! Ulp!" She swallowed the morsels down her adorable throat. "Have you tried flapping your wings?"

Flash looked at his feathery appendages, and then at her. "I'm not sure they agree with me."

"Mffft! Cookie crumbs!" Derpy waved a hoof. "What do they smell like?"

Flash gave his own feathers a humble sniff. He squinted in contemplation. "... ... ...sugar cookies and cat fluff."

"Then they belong to you, alright! Which means you can use them!" Derpy mimicked Flash's stance—but then tightened her limbs for show. "Steady your hoofsies—but be prepared to let them to slack. As soon as you flap your wing muscles, transfer all strength and concentration to them! Pretend you're an adorable orange squirrel and just... curl your forelimbs to your chest right as you lift off! You'll be more aerodynamic that way! Heehee!"

"B-but..." Flash gritted his teeth as he flapped his wings wildly. Feathers rustled while the grassblades below them danced. "About the 'lifting off' part... I-I don't think I have that down pat just yet!"

"It's all in the flap! Or—as I like to think of it—the feather-flick!"

"But... grnnngh..." Flash waved and swung his wings for all they were worth, but he couldn't lift off more than a centimeter. "They just feel so... grnnngh... clumsy and stiff!"

Derpy smirked, eyebrows waggling. "You're not thinking of a very pretty mare right now, are youuuuu?"

"What???"

"Ahem..." Derpy reached forward and steadied his sweating figure. "Just relax for a tick." She tapped the fuzzy center of his scalp. "Try to empty this before you fill the sky."

"You mean I'm supposed to empty my mind?"

"Works for me! Heehee..."

"I just... suddenly feel that there are—like—too many flippin' variables for me to have to master in order to get this done," Flash Sentry moaned. "I've seen the inside of an airplane's cockpit. That shit's crazy. Looks like a Stephen Hawkings sex dungeon encased in aluminum."

"Well, I may not know what an 'airplane' is, but I do know that you're a pegasus!" Derpy paced around him, winking. "And all pegasi are born to fly! The mastery of clouds and barrel-rolls is built in our genes! Sometimes our slacks too. Although—I wouldn't suggest wearing dress clothes when flying. You'll hit a lot of explodey bugs and ruin them."

"Miss Hooves—" Flash sighed.

"Uh uh!" She pressed a hoof to his muzzle. "I've got an idea." She smiled pleasantly. "Forget what I said about emptying your head. How about you fill it with something that'll... mmmmmm—make it lightweight!"

"H-how do you mean?"

Her cheeks turned rosy as her tongue rolled: "Take something cheerful and rapturous and stuff it in between your ears. Become like a hot air balloon and soar to the sky on the feeling alone!"

Flash actually snorted. "You're telling me to have happy thoughts?"

"Sure thing!"

"When do I get sprinkled with pixie dust?"

Derpy cocked her head aside like a confused bird. "Pixies went extinct nine thousand years ago during the Age of Starswirl."

Flash winced, remembering that some things were too fantastical in this world to afford flippant oxymorons. "I'm sorry, Miss Hooves. What I meant was—"

"Flight, Mr. Bard, is freedom," Derpy firmly said. "You chose to meet me for some lessons. Heehee... that means you want to get into the air!" Her smile was straight, even if her eyes weren't. "You took the first and most important step before you even met me! That means that you really wanna get in the sky. You just gotta... find a way to make your soul hoof-bump with your wings!"

"I... don't think I can do that."

"Have you ever flown before? On your own, I mean."

"Uhhhhh..." Flash cleared his throat. "Can't say that I have."

"Have you ever wanted to leave a place really badly? Or reach some spot in the sky where you had never been before?"

Flash's blood drew cold. He gazed off at the afternoon sky. The warm colors gave way to gray concrete... to brown garbage strewing sidewalks and rusted bloodstains flickering across front store television sets. He saw big black bold lettering on websites, on cell phone apps, on newspapers—all shouting, screaming, moaning the same monochromatic misery... painting a world of withs and withouts, devoid of color and mirth in between... aside from the plastic and electronic vices of hedonism that struggled ever so desperately to emulate that which was always missing. There came a time when he stopped reaching for the sky, for he had long given up on the possibility of catching anything. Even when he almost had some substance worth holding onto, it slipped away from him, escaping through a crack in the mirror like a butterfly seeking warmth. There were several moments when Flash thought he had caught glimpses of that sky beyond the fissure... of the rainbows that held a forbidden and blissful magic... songs that he couldn't hear over the rattling of chains that were placed there by nobody but himself. No, he didn't know how to fly, but he did have the indescribable urge to push.

"If only it weren't so heavy," he muttered.

"Heavy?" A distant voice stammered. A gray figure squirmed against a green plane far away. "What's so heavy, Mr. Bard?!"

Flash wasn't certain why she was yelling. When he looked down, he realized why. Derpy was over fifty feet below him, and his ears were being serenaded to the flapping of feathers.

"Holy shit, I'm flying!" Flash exhaled, smiling. And as soon as the misery in the back of his mind faded, he realized he had run out of things to push against. His wingtips lost traction, and his lower limbs flailed. "Holy sh-shit, I'm flying!"

"That's it! Tell the whole neighborhood!" Derpy cheered—but it was too late. There was a loud whistling sound, and the impact of Flash's body striking the hilltop before her threw her off her hooves. The stallion groaned, tongue hanging out as he saw stars. The mare trotted over, smiling nervously. "Uhm... remember what I told you about the whole 'sky' and 'not-sky' thing?"

"They... c-came from behind..." Flash wheezed.

"Any bones broken?"

"Only the ones in my head."

Derpy stretched a fetlock outward. "How many fingers am I holding up?"

Flash regained his sight just in time to squint at her. "Ponies don't have fingers."

"Awesomesauce!" Derpy smiled and yanked Flash back to his hooves. "You still have your cognitive abilities!" A sly wink. "Wanna try that again?"

"Miss Hooves, I almost shattered my vertebrae just now." Flash dusted himself off as the numbness passed. "But... more to the point..." He grinned psychotically. "Hell yeah!"

One

KERPLUNK!

Flash grinded to a halt after having dragged a twenty-foot long trench in the soil.

"Unnnnnnngh..." He wheezed, wincing from head to tail. "Michael Douglas!" he cursed again.

"The sound effects are getting bigger," Derpy declared, touching down beside him. "Let it rest, Mr. Bard. Before you kill yourself."

"Mrmmff... j-just..." The stallion stood up, teetered, fell, and stood up again. "Just one more try..."

"I don't want a student dying on my watch!" Derpy pouted, ears folding. "Please, won't you reconsider?"

"No..."

"But—"

"I... I think I get it..." He coughed, sputtered, then stood up straight after a slight groan. "I'm just... p-putting too much effort into it."

"That's what I've been trying to—"

"I just need to relax." He gulped, flexing his bent feathers. "Not... freak out so much. Next time I lose air, I should gently glide out of it." He turned to smile at her. "It takes no thoughts, you see!"

Derpy smiled proudly. "That's my motto!"

"Alright. Here we go again."

"But... could we do it another time, Bard?"

"It's now or never, Ms. Hooves."

"Your determination is awesome and all... but I really really think you should try and... not risk hitting the earth again." She clenched her jaw muscles in the light of the setting sun. "How else do you think I got these eyes?"

"Tell you what." He looked straight at her. "I bet you that I can fly after this next try! If I'm wrong... then... uhhhhhh... you get to eat all of the remaining muffins that I brought here!"

"What's the point in muffin delicacy when you're dead?"

"Please, Miss Hooves." Flash insisted. "I must make this happen."

"But... in a day?! Why such a big hurry, Mr. Bard?"

Flash bit his bottom lip. "... ... ...because I can't stop moving."

Derpy sighed. She fidgeted in place. "...I get the whole basket of muffins?"

"That's right."

Derpy gulped. "Well..." A nervous chuckle. "At least I'll get to live with myself deliciously... eheheh..."

Flash smiled from muzzle to muzzle. "Good! Now...." He flapped his wings—gently this time. "Try to keep up!"

Contact

Flash remembered the first time he got his car.

The stunned excitement of having such an amazing vehicle at his fingertips took days to fade away. But—once it did—it was replaced with an anxious cloud of fear and trepidation. What if he wrecked it? What if he killed himself while making a wrong turn? What if he destroyed the one single gift that brought his parents together?

And yet—as one day followed the other, and he grew more and more accustomed to driving that car around town—he found that it was easier than riding a bike. In fact, dwelling on the fears that he had was enough of a distraction to keep him from fouling up the simplest of mechanical actions. That's when he grew a new obsession with music, utilizing the sound system of the car to its full potential. He listened to countless albums, tracks, and remixes while riding that car around. His thoughts were a second form of fuel to that vehicle, and he made sure to fill the tank every day.

And the biggest thought that occupied Flash's mind was McCracken Trail... and the unknown lengths of asphalt that lay beyond the point of no return. So many times—and on so many setting suns like this one—he would drive up to the very crest of the hill and just park his vehicle there. Wondering. Pondering.

When he would find the strength to leave that town.

The very thought made him anxious. So... taking a page out of history... he dwelled on something else instead. A tune in his head... the memories of childhood... a smiling lavender face with violet eyes—cool as the edge of night.

And before Flash knew it... he sank through the layers of contemplation to discover that he was floating comfortably beneath it all, carried aloft by the winds.

He looked down and saw rows upon rows of gold-thatched rooftops drifting beneath him: cute horse homes built for a cute horse world.

He looked up... and nearly saw his reflection in Derpy Hooves' beaming teeth.

"You're doing it, Bard!" she cheered, all giggles. "You're doing it!"

"Hmmmmm..." Flash smirked to himself. "J. M. Barrie was a moron. I like Spielberg's version better."

"Huh?"

"Never mind." Flash slicked his windblown mane back. "Smooth as silk, eh—WHOAH!" He lost traction, falling five feet before his wings caught him.

"Hah hah hah hah!" Derpy laughed.

"Eheheheh..." Flash wheezed, angling himself even to the burning horizon. "Just a horse on a bike. See?" He gulped. "Easy as pie."

"I have to admit. I was kinda hoping to have those muffins."

"Pfffft... they're all yours, Miss Hooves."

She gasped as if the world was suddenly made of gold. "Really?!?!"

"Yeah. Besides..." Flash smirked, angling his wings like a prairie falcon's. "...I'm a bit hungry for something else right now..."

Hover

The sun was halfway down the horizon, although it felt to Flash as though the sunset was rotating around him. This was likely due to him flying around in little pony circles with his little pony wings. The movement came easier and easier, with each miniscule twitch and pivot of the wings throwing his body into... remarkably simple pitches and yaws. He kept a particularly tall tree to his left as he continued his counter-clockwise orbit. A blonde mare perched on a branch, munching on the last remaining muffins inside her basket.

"Mrmmmfff..." Derpy gulped, smiled, and gulped again. "I've said it before and I'll say it again! You're a natural, Mr. Bard!"

"Only because you're a natural—whoah!" He flew too close to the lofty tree and juked sideways to dodge a branch. He recovered with a chuckle and a smile. "N-natural teacher!"

"Mmm-mmm!" She hummed into a morsel of muffin, swallowed it, and offered: "Navigating the skies is born in every pegasus! I keep telling you that!" She winked. "You just needed the right kind of push."

"You should give yourself more credit Miss Hooves," Flash said. "I bet there are tons of flightless pegasi who could learn a thing or two from you."

"Heehee..." She folded her forelimbs, leaning up against the narrowing tree trunk behind her. "I wouldn't make much of a living if I offfered nothing but flight lessons."

"Oh?"

"I think... the locals are a bit too scared to let me give them a helping wing."

"Pfffft." Flash's smirk streaked past her in orbit. "They're paranoid fuzzballs!"

"They can't be blamed, though." Derpy cleared her throat, brushing a golden strand or two behind her fuzzy ear. Her face was a tranquil deadpan. "I... uh... don't exactly have the best reputation when it comes to... mmmm... flight safety."

"Well, that changes today!"

Derpy's eyes squinted in opposite directions. "You fell to the earth over a dozen times before you caught your own wind, Mr. Bard."

"So? It worked in the end!" Flash threw his weight to the side, twirling in mid-glide. He evened out, grinning sideways. "What these ponies need to do is learn to roll with the punches! Sometimes there are bumps in life, after all!"

"Heehee... Ponyville has had its fair share of bumps! That's for sure!"

"Well, if nopony has told the locals how good of a teacher you are, then I'll be the first to do it!" Flash beamed. "I'll give you my own kickass endorsement! I'll even commit it to paper... erm... despite how bad my teeth-writing is."

"Really?" She exhaled. Eyes shook, rotated—and she tilted forward with muzzle agape. "You'll do that? For me?!"

"Heck yeah, girl! You'll be swimming in moolah in no time!"

"Uhhhhh..."

"Or... m-maybe muffins?" He smiled nervously.

"Hooooooray!" Derpy teetered off the branch's edge and caught him in mid-flight with a squeezing hug. "That's so kind of you, Mr. Bard!"

"Guhhh!" He winced, hooves flailing as he nearly plummeted from the sudden shift in weight.

"Whooops!" Derpy wheezed. She thrust her wings out, threw the weight of the two in the opposite direction, and flicked her wing for counterbalance. "Stay calm! Even out! Flap—"

She was barely finished with the command when Flash naturally threw himself into a mid-air hover. "Whew!" He chuckled nervously. "See? I got this covered."

"My b-bad." Derpy blushed heavily. "I nearly threw my only successful client to is death! Murder is the worst kind of death..."

"Hey...! It's okay...! Check it...!" Holding his breath, Flash did a backflip... then rocketed his body into a figure-eight. He came back with a twirl, then hovered once again in front of her. "Swag."

"Hmmmmm..." Derpy leaned belly-first across the branch, cradling her gray chin on a pair of dainty fetlocks. "You make it look so snazzy."

"Well, it's all in the head, I think," Flash said. "At first, I was freaking out about getting my weight off the ground. But then I realized that... like... so long as you realize that you're a tiny pony with tiny wings... you can throw yourself anywhere! You dig?"

"How can I dig?" Derpy blinked crookedly. "We're both sixty feet off the ground!"

Flash sighed, although it was through a smile. "I feel bad that we never hung out before."

"Hmmm?" Derpy sat up, ears twitching in confusion. "You were in Ponyville before?" Those same fuzzy lobes sloped back guiltily. "I-I'm sorry for forgetting—"

"No, I mean... heh..." Flash slicked his mane back, smirking into the golden breeze of the dying day. "I'm feeling a bit feather-brained from all those near-concussions. Don't mind me."

"Oh, that's simple!" Derpy giggle-snorted. "I'm very good at not minding anything!"

"I... uh..." Flash winced slightly, gazing down at the gold-thatched rooftops. "I really hope that I didn't rob you or nothing."

"Huh?"

"Well, this was a 'free lesson'... and I've taken so much of your time. Erm..." He nervously rubbed the back of his head while hovering up high. "...all this time you could have been serving clients at your shop..."

"Ehhhhhh..." Derpy waved a hoof. Her tongue stuck out momentarily. "No big whoopie cushion. Teehee... I'll catch up with them sooner than later! There's always tomorrow."

"You... don't have any fear of going bankrupt?" Flash asked.

"Huh?" Derpy was almost yawning. "Why should I?"

Flash sighed long and hard. He smiled into the setting sun, feeling the toasty golden sky pouring into him. "Guess there really isn't much to be scared of here in Equestria."

"I... wouldn't say that, Mr. Bard," Derpy stammered. She shivered slightly. "We have plenty of hydras... dragons... diamond dogs... timberwolves... and changelings. Brrrrrrrr..." She shook from head to tail, her backhairs rising like a gray tabby cat's. "Nothing against changelings, but they're just so... prickly. And squirmy." Shivering, she scarfed down a muffin for comfort.

"You can name all the things you're scared of here?" Flash said.

"Mrmmmffff..." Derpy gulped. She rubbed the crumbs off her muzzle, nodding. "Uh huh."

Flash's ears drooped. He gazed towards the darker horizon behind them. "Sounds wonderful."

Derpy tilted her head aside. "... ... ...you're a very interesting stallion, Mr. Bard."

"Flash."

"Huh?"

"It's Flash Sentry." He turned, offering her a gentle smile. "I think you deserve to know by now."

She stared... then stared some more. At some point, her eyes centered—or at least they almost did. "It isn't... anymore, is it?"

Flash lowered slightly in his hover, his eyes trained on her.

Derpy smiled in spite of the tense silence.

"Uhm... if I endorse you as 'Brad,' I think more ponies are gonna know who said it," Flash said with a hopeful smile.

"Hmmmmm..." Derpy nodded. "I can't thank you enough."

"No, I can't thank you enough." Flash looked at his wings. "This means a whole lot to me."

"Hehe... I can tell."

"I swear, I'm going to tell everypony I see that Derpy Hooves taught me how to fly." His eyes flickered, and he smiled with renewed enthusiasm. "And..." He angled his wings, diving towards the golden rooftops of Ponyville. "...I know just where to start!"

Startle

"And that's..." Bon Bon giggle-snorted, covering her muzzle so as not to spit on the tray of freshbly-baked candies. As she continued applying the rolling pin, she looked across the brightly-lit space of her eatery. "And that's when the sarosian said to the pegasus, 'No... you have chicken mouth!'" She tilted her head aside and giggled a fuzzy storm.

"Okay. Seriously." Lyra leaned forward in a chair propped up against the counter. "That's the millionth time I've heard that! Who made it up? Where did it even start?!"

"Pfffft..." Bon Bon rolled her eyes. "Haven't got a single funny bone in your body."

"Hey! Have lots of bones... ... ... ...that are funny!"

"Uh huh." Bon Bon merely smiled. "You need to get out more, Lyra."

"So what if I prefer being inside?" Lyra sighed, smiling calmly as she folded her forelimbs. "It's nice and quiet."

"Yo!" Flash Sentry screamed, suddenly hovering above her. "Check it!" His wings flapped harder, blowing at her mane and tail.

"Aaaaaa-aaaaaaa-ackieees!" Lyra rocketed up on all fours and swatted at invisible gnats. "Guh! Gah!"

"Oh! Oh jeez..." Flash winced, clutching his muzzle in shame. "My bad. I guess I was using my... uh... 'upper atmosphere' voice."

"Don't do that!" Lyra frowned, her mane a tattered mess. Her nostrils flared as she stood with a growling pout. "You almost scared the green right outta me!"

"I'm sorry. I'll promise to be more quiet next t—"

"Oh hey." Lyra blinked, the anger and shock suddenly drained from her being. "You're flying."

"Huh?" Bon Bon looked up from her work. "Oh snap! Way to go, Brad!"

"Derpy Hooves taught me!" Flash smirked proudly. "Gave me lessons and everything! Watch!" He lifted upwards. "Isn't it sweet?" His skull collided with the ceiling fan. Bonk!-Bonk!-Bonk! "Ow!" He landed on the floor, clutching his cranium. "Ass biscuits!"

"Uh huh... yup..." Bon Bon giggled in spite of the painful event. "Derpy taught him alright."

"You okay, Brad?" Lyra asked.

"Whew... yeah..." He smiled, squinting out one eye as the throbbing pain passed. "Never felt b-better..."

"You really... truly didn't know how to fly before this afternoon?" Lyra asked, her voice cracking.

"I know, right? Crazy sh—er... stuff." Clearing his throat, Flash stood up tall. "All it took was a single afternoon of practice with Miss Hooves by my side. She made it really simple, y'know? Soon enough, I was feeding on... like... feathery horse instincts... or something. It's like riding a bike! You two should try it sometime."

Lyra giggled.

"Neither of us are pegasi, Brad," Bon Bon droned. "If Lyra and I began flying thanks to Derpy, it means she exploded another water heater."

Flash rolled his eyes. "Well... heh... you know what I mean." He trotted forward. "And... y'know... Derpy really did help me. She deserves a lot more credit around here—"

"Oh, we don't doubt it, Brad," Bon Bon said.

The teenager blinked. "You don't?"

"We tease Miss Hooves because we all adore her."

"Yeah!" Lyra nodded with a bright grin. "She's like... Ponyville's good luck charm! In some... uhm... really... weird... wonky... totally not stupid way... eheh..."

"She was the team favorite at the Equestrian Games," Bon Bon added with a proud smile. "We wouldn't have had it any other way."

"Huh..." Flash stared off, blinking lazily. "I just... got the feeling—"

"Oh, don't get me wrong, she takes some getting used to," Bon Bon said. "That silly pony used to fly into my window here when the place first opened up. Nyeuuuuuuurr—Thwump! Regularly! Everyday! Got pretty annoying. But... heheheh... the whole thing actually drew in customers. Sooooooooooo..." She shrugged. "...as long as she's not hurting other ponies or—even worse—herself, then we're peachy keen with her clumsiness."

"That's... so strange," Flash muttered.

"What's so strange?" Lyra cocked her head aside. "That we love our neighbor?"

Flash stared back. He took a warm breath, his eartips twitching. His smile was the most still thing about him. "Forget I said anything."

"Uhm... okay..." Lyra smiled nervously. "...so long as you forget that you... answered anything?"

"What can we do for you this evening, Brad?" Bon Bon asked.

"Got any more gutters that need cleaning?" Smiling, Flash flapped his wings and hovered above the kitchen counter. "I don't need a ladder anymore! I bet I could take care of your storefront suuuuuuper quick now!"

"Ahem," Bon Bon sternly grunted.

Flash blinked. "What's the matter?"

Lyra leaned aside, hissing: "This shop's got a strict no-fly rule."

"Oh... sorry." Flash landed nimbly on the tile floor. "Guess the ceiling fan was my first clue." He curled the edge of his muzzle up. "And my second and my third..."

Lyra giggled, then leaned in to pat Flash's skull. "Yooooooou poooor thiiiiing."

"Actually, about those gutters..." Bon Bon began.

The stallion twirled towards her. "Yeah?"

"I was sort of hoping you'd come back." She looked over the counter. "I'd say it's high time you received some payment for your labors."

"Please, ladies... please..." Flash held a hoof up, smirking. "I only want to help out of the kindness of my heart—"

Just as he said this, a lion's roar filled the room—accompanied by a chorus of low bass cicadas and bullfrogs. This, of course, is all a metaphor. Flash's stomach was growling with unquenched ferocity.

"I... uhm..." He shrunk away from the knowing squints of his present company. "...I-I guess I can't speak for my other organs..."

Bon Bon giggled. "Have a seat, Brad. I'll whip something up."

"Thanks. You're too kind."

"I know."

Bite

"So..." With a sly smile, Lyra sat down at the chair across the table from Flash Sentry. "Now that you know how to fly..." She leaned forward with an earnest smile. "Where are you going to go?"

Flash blinked hard. His ears tickled to the sounds of Bon Bon rummaging behind the counter. "Well... uhhhhh... I guess I didn't think that hard about it."

"Surely you weren't planning on just fixing everypony's gutters!"

"Maybe, maybe not." He pretended to glare. "And don't call me 'Shirley.'"

"Huh?"

"Eh..." Flash chuckled out the side of his muzzle as he waved a hoof. "Never mind."

Bon Bon suddenly trotted up. "So long as you stay clear of the Everfree Forest." She placed a tray of cupcakes down before him. "I hear manticores can snatch pegasi out of the sky. All they need is a hundred meters and they'll be in striking range!"

"What... exactly is a manticore?" Flash asked. "I mean... besides a really clickbaity Ninja Sex Party song?"

Lyra giggled. "You're silly, Brad." She looked at Bon Bon while pointing the stallion's way. "He's silly."

"Yes. You're regular peas in a pod." Bon Bon rolled her eyes before smirking at their guest. "Eat up."

"You... uh..." Flash squinted at the tray of cupcakes. "...you guys always make a full course meal out of dessert?"

"Yeah?" Lyra cocked her head aside. "Why not?"

"Don't get me wrong... eheh..." Flash picked up one of the colorful treats. "I'm not complaining. Just... you're making me feel extra special."

"I started baking them over two hours ago." Bon Bon shrugged. "If you didn't show up again, I figured it would give Lyra and I something to munch on while we closed."

"Well, dig in," Flash said, gesturing. "Don't let me be a cupcake hog."

"Nonsense. You must have worked up an appetite by now."

"Well..." Flash smirked as he leaned in for his first bite. "Can't say that you're wrong. Thanks a bunch. This is super gracious." He took his first bite—and his mouth exploded. Like firecrackers. The sensation was so extreme that he nearly fell out of his seat. "Mrmffffffffff!" He spat out the crumbly mess of cupcake bread and teetered over, wheezing. "Ghkkkktt!"

"What?!" Lyra hopped up, eyes wide. "What?!"

"Are you okay—?!" Bon Bon gasped.

"Gah! What... that... mrnnnghhh..." Flash flailed, eyes watering. "Water... w-water!" he pleaded.

Bon Bon scampered towards the kitchen, but Lyra's telekinesis had beat her to the punch. A glass pitcher floated over, sloshing with liquid. Flash grasped the thing in two shivering fetlocks and poured half the contents down his throat. At last, he calmed down, settling back in his seat with a long and winded exhale. Wiping his eyes dry, he looked at the frazzled confectioner.

"What d-did you put into that mix?" he gargled. "Nitroglycerin?"

"Nothing!" Bon Bon squeaked. "I swear!" She pointed. "They're just normal cupcakes!"

"But... but..." Flash fidgeted in his seat. He placed the pitcher of water down. "It felt like a million tons of Frosted Flakes were exploding against my t-tongue!"

"Huh?" Bon Bon blinked.

"Brad, please... believe us," Lyra spoke, ears folded back. "We didn't mean to do anything bad."

"I'm not insinuating that—"

"There's no pony in town who bakes better, more delicious, more wholesome sweets than Bon Bon here!"

"Well..." Bon Bon blushed slightly. "There's Pinkie Pie—"

"No pony!" Lyra stuck her tongue out at her friend before turning to look at Flash again. "Maybe you're... uhm... allergic to sugar?"

"'Allergic to sugar?'" Bon Bon droned. "Come on, Lyra..."

"It can happen!"

In the meantime, Flash was reexamining the cupcakes on the tray. He leaned in, sniffing the icing and bread. His nose tingled as if he was just inches away from lit sparklers. With a brave breath, he turned the bitten cupcake over and nibbled at the very edge of it.

He winced; each crumb was stabbing him with sweet, sugary flavor. It was almost the same sensation he got from consuming hot sauce... only induced by the sweet centers of his taste buds. It was then that the thought occurred to him that the whole experience wasn't brought upon by the dessert itself. But rather by...

"Say... uhm..." Flash looked up. "Sorry to be a bother, but do you have something not sweet lying around... by chance?"

Lyra's brow furrowed. "Not sweet?"

"I... er... I have some carrots lying in the back," Bon Bon said, gesturing. "It's part of the lunch I made for myself this morning. I didn't get around to eating them."

"Yeah. Carrots. That sounds nice and horsey," Flash said.

"They're... kinda stale, though." Bon Bon smiled nervously. "Been sitting untouched for over a day—"

"May I?" Flash asked. "If that's not a problem, I mean."

"Not a problem at all! Just... uh... stay right here..." Bon Bon left. Shortly thereafter, she came back with a few bright orange stalks that matched Flash's coat. "I promise I haven't nibbled on any of them."

"I doubt you have any germs to give Brad, Bon Bon."

"I'm only trying to be polite, Lyra!"

"Sometimes I think you try too hard."

"And you try too little!"

"Ladies... please..." Flash smirked before picking up a carrot in his hooves. "I'm experimenting."

"Experimenting?" Lyra squinted. "How?"

"Shhh!" Bon Bon insisted, as if she was suddenly curious.

In the meantime, Flash was biting down on the carrot. His eyes twitched... for as soon as the vegetable bits rolled around in his mouth, his synapses were firing on all cylinders. It felt as though he had just bitten into the world's sweetest, most decadent slice of chocolate cake... with vanilla frosting. He took a second bite of the carrot, just to be sure. Again, it felt like his birthday. A shudder ran through his body—only now he was prepared for it: the sheer delectable pleasure.

Soon, the math was done in his head. He rolled his tongue around, pressing the carrot mash against his gums. Swallowing, he looked up at the two mares.

"Does... everything taste so sweet to ponies? Like... all the time?"

"Well... uh..." Bon Bon rubbed the back of her head. "I guess so? I mean... I really don't understand the question."

"Me neither." Lyra nodded. "You've got us stoop-pooped."

Flash took another bite of the vegetable. Slowly, one mouthful at a time, he was starting to get used to the insane sensory overload. "Christ on a bike," he exhaled, swallowing again. "If this is what food tastes like to you guys... it's a wonder you're all not super, super fat by now."

Lyra giggled. "I take it you approve?"

"Carrots have never tasted so good." He looked up with a smile. "So yeah. Mesa approves."

"You say that as if this is the first day you've ever been a pony," Bon Bon mused.

Flash sweated, paling. "Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh..."

The bell above the front door rang.

"Good evening, my dears," Octavia's voice rang as she and Vinyl Scratch entered. "I do hope we're not too close to closing."

"H-hey! Fuzziness has arrived!" Flash exhaled with relief. He waved. "Miss Melody! What's up?!"

"Erm..." Octavia adjusted her bow-tie. Her gray brow furrowed. "The sky?"

Vinyl face-hoofed with a smirk.

"Hmmmmm..." Flash accompanied the sweet moment with another carrot bite.

Headphones

"Just the stallion we were looking for," Octavia said while Vinyl Scratch nodded.

"Yeesh..." Lyra blinked across the eatery. "Is everypony in town looking for Brad?"

"Mrmmmfff..." The teenager in question finished munching down his carrot. "Not everypony." He gulped, staring a million miles straight forward. "I hope."

"We saw a curiously familiar streak of orange and blue soar past our windows right at sunset." Octavia wore a sly grin, her eyebrow arching. "I take it your flight lessons went swimmingly?"

"And how!" Flash swiveled in his chair, facing the two mares and smiling. "Miss Hooves got me airborne in a jiffy! She's got a real talent for reaching towards one's inner winged horse, that pony."

Vinyl snickered. Her head tilted at an angle, suggesting that she was rolling her eyes beneath her violet shades.

"Well, good to know that there'll be no obituaries tomorrow morning for the new gutter-cleaner," Octavia mused.

"Hey... if nothing else, it'll make it easier for me to help out around here! Oooh!" Flash reached for the table and snatched up an orange vegetable, waving it jubilantly in the air. "Have you tried these before? They're carrots!" He took a swift bite. Snap! "Mmmmmmm... so sweeeeeeet..."

"Erm... yes... I'm quite familiar with carrots," Octavia drone. "I have been since before primary school." She cleared her throat. "Anyways, since you've found your wings—as t'were—Vinyl here has come up with a wonderful way to christen the occasion."

"Mmmfff?" Flash swallowed the latest morsel. "Oh? What's that?"

"Vinyl?" Octavia pivoted about. "If you care to do the honors, love."

Vinyl nodded. Whistling, she motioned Flash towards her. As the stallion approached, the unicorn opened her saddlebag and floated loose a shiny pair of headphones. She levitated the items towards him with a beaming grin.

"What?" Flash blinked. He looked at the headphones, at Vinyl, then at the headphones again. "You... want me to polish your audiopheliac collection? Wouldn't you rather I take care of your roof or chimney—"

Bon Bon barked: "She wants to lend you her headphones, ya doofus!"

"Gah!" Flash winced, his mind instantly filling with images of the jacketed doppelganger back home. The teenager's sly grin, spiked hair, and flashy earphones were just as iconographic as her shades themselves. "Holy cow. No way. I can't..."

Vinyl looked hurt. Flash marveled at how quickly he was starting to read other equine's "ear-language."

"Why not?" Lyra squeaked, curious.

"I mean... they're her headphones!" Flash hissed, looking at the unicorn in earnest. "How are you going to sample and mix music while a moron like has those?"

"Don't be daft," Octavia interjected. "She has a closet full of them."

"... ... ... ...oh." Flash blinked.

Vinyl smiled again, levitating the headset closer.

Flash took it in gentle hooves, cradling them. He saw his horse-like reflection in their shiny finish. His ears were perking straight up—humble but enthused. "This... this is really snazzy and all... b-but I wouldn't know where to begin—"

"Hehe!" Lyra giggled. "Not used to unicorn tech, are ya?"

"Actually..." Octavia began.

Lyra trotted past her and pointed at the little glowing shard sticking out of the back of the headphones. "The mana-induction of this crystal carries dozens of songs recorded through an audio leyline transfuser!"

"Er... right..." Flash looked sheepishly at Octavia and Vinyl. "I've seen them in action."

"Vinyl made a mix for you," Octavia explained. "'Feathered and Friendly,' I think she called it. Should make for a perfect soundtrack to fly to."

"To... fly to...?"

Octavia's eyes narrowed. "You do—of course—have places to be now that you've caught the wind. Hmmm?"

Flash's heart warmed instantly at the thought. He glanced out the storefront window. Stars appeared one after another. He could practically feel the individual twinkles in his eye. "Wow... that's... uhm..." He hugged the headphones to his chest as he gazed at the musical mares. "That's super nice of you girls. Thanks. I mean it. Thanks."

Vinyl gestured something.

"She says 'cheers,'" Octavia asserted with a smile and a nod.

"Heh... I'm sure she does." Flash had to navigate a growingly sore lump in his throat to say the next part. "Everyone here is just... just so nice without having a second thought about it..."

"Huh?" Lyra's green muzzle scrunched. "What second thoughts would we have and why?"

Flash bit his lip.

"What comes around goes around, Brad," Bon Bon remarked. She smiled. "Why should that be so strange?"

"I... I know," Flash murmured. It was a low, breathy tone.

Vinyl coughed, leaning towards Octavia and nudging her.

"Ahem..." Octavia adjusted her collar. "Of course... she's just lending it to you. We'd very much appreciate it if you brought it back in due time." Her eyes narrowed. "DJ-P0N3 can find out where you live."

Vinyl's nostrils flared.

"Er... r-right!" Flash smiled nervously. "It's just... I... uh..." He glanced at the headphones in his grasp, then at the fresh cascade of starlight outside. "I wouldn't even know where to go."

"You want my advice?" Octavia trotted over and whispered past his ear. "Wherever the melody takes you, Mr. Sentry..."

Trance

Flash Sentry was no astronomer, but one thing was certain.

This was not his night's sky.

He gawked the entire time while trotting out of Bon Bon's establishment. His head tilted heavenward, his eyes darting about and searching for a single constellation that he could recognize—finding none. The light pollution was practically nil here, so he had full visibility of the cosmos twinkling above. He thought he might actually see the Milky Way—just like in all the pictures of desert nightscapes that he had grown fond of in school. Instead, his eyes caught two... three... even four interconnecting beams of stellar light. Perhaps Equestria floated in a denser part of the galaxy.

Flash didn't understand. He didn't want to understand. He simply gazed and tried not to drool.

The air was cool, growing chillier with the occasional evening gust. The teenager felt his pony ears fluttering—the tiny, sensitive hairs curling in tune with the breeze. He reacquainted himself with the weight of the headphones dangling over his neck. A gift.

Clearing his throat, Flash raised the article over his cranium and... lingered there. So many curious sounds echoed from the woods and bushes surrounding Ponyville. It was more than crickets. This entire world was alive with things that were lucky enough to still be around. Equestrian culture—it would seem—wasn't quite as fond of trampling things as other civilizations were.

This brought a smile to his face. The expression disappeared briefly as he fumbled with the headphones. After a tiny moment of frustration, his fetlock finally made contact with a switch on the back of the device. He heard an initial hum that resonated in his skull. Then—softly at first—a melody bled into his ear canals.

The volume was low. His hoof brushed past the growling manacrystal and found a knob. He turned it, cursing himself mentally for not having even a single iota of Vinyl Scratch's grace in executing the gesture. Soon, he no longer cared, for his mind was being filled with an intoxicating instrumental of synthesized proportions.

At least... he knew it was synthesized, but he couldn't quite tell at first. The instrument samples sounded incredibly organic, and yet it had the soothing effect of a high production Moby track... without coming across as experimental. Flash lingered there as the music from this world's Vinyl Scratch rolled on, painting the walls of his mind with glitter and sparkles. At first, he wanted to call it "Trance," but the otherworldliness of the symphony threw him off. In the end, the opening track sounded like a weird cross of Talk Talk's It's My Life and the store lobby of a Rainforest Cafe.

He smiled, for he didn't know what else to do. It was too surreal to be a dream. There he stood on four hooves, illuminated by an unfamiliar ceiling of stars, being serenaded by alien horse music.

There was no way in Hell he was staying in one place for long. The smiles and giggles of his new friends flickered in the back of his mind.

Friends...

He exhaled the last cold breath of his life, spread his wings, then plunged into the starlight... accompanied by sonic bliss.

Lunatic

It only took a few seconds for Flash to reach higher than he had ever flown before. His flight lessons with Derpy felt like a drop in the great celestial pool that was currently serving as his horizons. Ponyville's small size as a township became immediately apparent, disappearing beneath him in a windy gasp.

As the music in his ears chimed through new and newer waves of synthesized euphoria, he glanced down at the small round valley that surrounded the village. There was the faintest twinkling of firelight—of microscopic windows illuminated by microscopic ponies about to lay down to microscopic sleep. The dark canvas of night hung low and heavy, casting a heavenly veil over the curious continent stretching around him.

Flash was more awake than he had ever been. This didn't stop a frightful numbness from creeping in on all sides, accentuated by the sheer surreality of the equine moment. He pierced through it—flapping his wings faster and using the windy traction to propel himself harder through the thick layers of comprehension.

Only slightly did the landscape beneath him shift. He glanced down every now and then to observe the glacial drift, to spot the lurch of mountains, hilltops, and lakefronts along the chill waves of trance tracks rippling into his horse ears. He noted that a lush, dark crescent of dense foilage hung around the west and northwest edges of Ponyville. The forest then stretched off towards a distant line of mountaintops, seemingly filling the entire basin with trees, trees, and more trees.

Everfree, Flash thought, and made sure to steer clear of the hauntingly dark canopy. From a distance he saw—or thought he saw—the luminescent hint of ethereal life clinging to those ebony boughs and treetops. In any other situation—tempered by his own ignorance—he figured that the sight would have been tantalizing. Hypnotizing, even. He thanked his lucky stars for the advice of his fresh companions... then blessed the heavens for having the luxury of "companions" in this strange place to begin with.

Something flickered between the horizons for a brief moment. Something painted with the same familiar hue as those dim shadows. Something reminiscent of dust... of sighs... of lonely morning bus rides through exhaustion and ennui. Of asphalt and garbage and desolation.

Flash flapped his wings harder—if only to feel them. Feel them, he did. Those feathers were real. That moment was real. That gust of wind. That chill in the atmosphere. That rise in tempo—where the music's frenetic spirit matched the spike in his pulse.

He dove, and yet he corkscrewed so that his plunge turned into an ascent. It was the first of many tricks, and the gasp that rippled through his body was positively electric. He pierced a veil of clouds, emerging on the other side with a cinematic splash of pale vapors. More than a few curious images erupted between each twitch of the eye. Memories from childhood—fragments of dreamscapes that faltered at best to emulate what was now happening to him. Animated sequences to Disney flicks, 16-bit pixelated splashes of colorful frustration. Off in the distance, a ten-year old giggled at a busy birthday party, extinguishing dollar store candles without a second thought. He wished for something—Flash couldn't remember what, but surely it paled to the heart-dropping moment now unfolding.

He evened out before he even knew he was barrel-rolling. Now Flash skimmed a silver ocean of clouds. Fog-soft mist rippled in waves underneath him. The full moon was bright—almost insultingly so. It brought a ghostly sheen to the nocturnal airscape around him, resonating with liquid pulses that almost seemed purposefully synced with Vinyl Scratch's otherworldly beat. It wasn't until a full two minutes of lunatic sailing had passed that Flash came to the stark realization that he had utterly lost track of Ponyville... of north and south... of any of the hemispheres that ever once corralled him—inside and out.

He was lost in the skies. The ground was unseen. Somewhere, far behind him... lost beneath him... was a crystal palace with a basement that contained an elusive, fragile portal. At this point, he might never find his way back.

The music hit a faster beat. His blood surged with the tempo, and Flash flew ever swiftly forward... far from all thoughts and regret... coasting into blissful oblivion.

Potential

Flash reached the mountains.

At least, he thought he did.

Sharp spires stuck out of the mists, dividing the horizon between glossy and glossier. The sky was a marble pool dripping all around him. He followed the streams that the music made and discovered glinting shapes, rigid peaks, and polished slopes. Trees clung to the summits with monk-like desperation, bent and bowing with the weight of ages. He navigated shadows within shadows, emerging in the moonglow beyond to discover even more layers of rolling topography: brimming with infinite possibility.

All the world was awash in a great hush. It allowed Vinyl's music to echo within him, to resonate with soulful vibration. Every time he suffered an errant thought or a whiff of nostalgia, he'd be immediately shaken back to the present—restored to the sights and sounds of a nocturnal glide within this sonic sanctum. He didn't smile. He hadn't the time to sob. He just flew, fast and furious and fateless.

The skyline rippled and bent until it was no longer distinguishable. All cardinal directions vanished. The only constant was the moon—and it hung directly overhead, throwing his silver shadow in every direction. So he went in the only direction that made sense anymore.

He ascended. He climbed skyward, putting as much distance between himself and the terrestrial landscape that housed the doorway through which he had limped a thousand thoughtless gasps ago. A necrotic existence lay far below him: a million regrets rotting away deep in some oceanic trench, being fed on by schools of fear, anxiety, and remorse. Memories of school, of disgruntled parents, of ugly politics and numbing technology and damning isolation—he shoved it all away and found the moon in its place. The light was soft, but persistent. He somehow knew that if he got close enough, the luminescence would cleanse him. It was made of far sterner stuff than the dust that had forged the young man and—surely—if he could just pierce the penumbra... if he could only get away by arriving...

It was then that Flash realized how empty his brief bouts of sleep had been over the past few months. The emptiness had been so thick, the numbness so persistent and permeating, that the only way to actually taste of dreaming was to throw himself through a mystical window and become one with the magic.

And now he was approaching the source of it at nearly a hundred miles an hour... so fast and with such ferocity that his senses lost track of how sharply the temperature had dropped. And—right about the time that Vinyl's composition had switched to a low tempo beat—he suddenly woke up to how damnably cold he was. After piercing the fifth or sixth cloud since he passed the mountaintops, a thin layer of frost had formed along his coat... and polluted the fibers of his feathers.

His wings grew stiff... heavy... useless...

...and Flash plummeted.

Hard.

Kinetic

Fear was something Flash Sentry wasn't used to. He realized this too late—of course—while in the middle of a deathly four thousand foot free-fall over the Equestrian mountains. In between the adrenalized blinks of a twirling horizon, the teenager realized that all he had grown used to over the past few months was dread. Something about this sudden terror... this heart-pulsating concern for his body as opposed to his soul—he instantly recognized a truly addictive flavor.

There was no time to savor it, though. Flash's mind had been awash with several conflicting thoughts as of late... his heart sloshing with the currents of a million obtuse emotions. But after having recently tasted of so much sweetness, kindness, and hope—the same despair that brought him to that sky had dwindled into a flimsy veil at best. There was something worth protecting that night... something worth holding close and keeping alive... and at the damning present it was stuck in a skull-crushing plummet towards oblivion.

He held his breath, what was left of it. Feeling the fluids shift in his goofily large ears, Flash narrowed his focus on the source of gravity—then pivoted his lopsided horse body to directly face it.

Soon he was staring down at his assailant; the earth stared back, armed with a million jagged teeth. Flash was falling over the very spine of a serrated mountain range. Within seconds, his body would strike the bone-piercing summit and shatter into a million sighing pieces.

He did his best to remain calm. His mouth muscles clenched—a very intense thing with the jawbone he had inherited. His body steeled itself, allowing the friction in the air to melt what cocooned it on the outside. Muscles relaxed—only to tremble. Two wings shot out. One by one, the fresh chunks of ice flew off—spreading the quills and fibers and freeing them to the whistling winds.

All was nothing but rock in Flash's vision. The moonlight disappeared in his peripheral, but he could still see his shadow. It was growing clearer by the millisecond. Vinyl's track did a drumroll in his ears, and the accompanying melody momentarily resembled a muffin-loving mare's giggle.

It was just the cheer that he needed. He flicked his wings towards the edges of the world and felt them again. A twitch later, and he was pulling the muscles towards the center of his chest... ripping at the air and pivoting his body up and away from the eviscerating mountain peaks.

He grazed over the cliffsides within a knife's edge. The air smelled rusty—like knicked skin from an electric razor. There was a burst of warmth—of blood shifting violently into his forward body as he came up from the monumental plunge, and soon he was barreling through the thermal blast and emerging on the other side in a translucent clap of vapors.

The air rang with a salvo of sound. It took Flash several seconds to realize that it wasn't Vinyl's music; he was screaming. Even after the fact... with the near-death fall centuries behind him... he bellowed out the full oceanic contents of his lungs... until he could feel nothing but the pulse in his skull... a fast and frenetic thing that danced with the evolving trance track and drained the color of his eyes, only to return it all with a blast of neural chaos. When he recovered, he found himself hovering in the space between mountains, surrounded by humble countryside bowing to his voluminous feat. He panted and shivered, relishing in the vast desolate vacuole he had forged in the middle of his chest with animalistic sound.

And then he screamed again.

The mountains echoed with his thoughtless fury, a chorus he was all to familiar with but had been far too shy to manifest against his bedroom walls, the wheel well of the school bus, or the busted frames of his locker. The strained exclamation was colored with every angry, murderous, melancholic, and confused thought he had soaked in for months... and when it was over...

He was laughing. Chuckling. Giggling.

He felt empty... but in a good way. A glass pitcher just waiting to be filled. Flash felt hungry, thirsty, horny, twitchy and exhausted all at once. He wanted to eat the world up and spit it back out and do it all over again.

And still... no matter how much is eyes ached... no matter how hard and cold the moment tugged at his grinning features...

He could not release more than he already had.

It wasn't a failure. At least... that much he was committed to. Vinyl's track coasted down to a cool glide, and so did he... finding a cliff-face somewhere to sit and allow the vibrations to end.

Although... the thick delight in his beating chest was far from pacified.

Good

The mountain mists formed a second sky, colored in white swaths of starlight that made the heavens dance in a silver sway. Wolves howled in the distance—too loud to be anything but metaphysical. The steep embankments and the ravine below echoed with lonesome life. The reverberation finished as soon as it had started, and the delightful hush of a tranquil world resumed its satin slumber.

Far below, a river wound its way between the edges of a canyon. Narrow rippling waters ferried the moonlight in diamondesque bands, illuminating the fringes of grassy knolls and dark forests. The canopies swayed in a cold wind, and black streaks—squirmy nocturnal things—shifted between branches with untold purpose.

In one direction, the horizon cascaded into humble mountain ridges, kissed along their peaks with a hint of rainclouds. Opposite to that, the sky hung high with stellar poise, riddled with cosmic dust. High above, looming with luster, the moon began its lazy slope towards the edge of the world, drowning out the glitter of night with its pallid fabric.

There, in the middle of everything and nothing, alone and untouched, Flash Sentry sat on a cold mountaintop, gazing into the blissful emptiness.

And he thought of Twilight.

Vinyl Scratch's music had long finished. There was still "juice" in the crystal manashard, Flash figured, but did not bother to restart the tracks. He didn't even remove the headphones. He simply sat there—half deaf—but hardly blind. His eyes traced the stars, the nebulae that hung in the distance, and all of the other galactic phenomena that emulated-but-did-not-entirely-match the beauty that had once graced his teenage life.

Twilight Sparkle was happy. She was quick to emotion. Her mouth was full of wisdom and her heart full of empathy. She strove to do what was best for everyone—willing to sacrifice herself for the common good at the drop of a hat. She was impulsive, but in an adorable way. Affordably clumsy and in all things curious, she was never seen without a smile... without eyes filled with wonderment and yearning.

She was every bit the same as all the ponies Flash Sentry had met since coming here.

And for the first time since Camp Everfree... since the Friendship Games... since the Battle of the Bands and the Fall Formal... Twilight Sparkle was starting to make sense... as did Flash's infinitesimal lot in the fabric of the entire canvas.

He had already given up on her—in a way—but it was moreso a melodramatic exclamation of woe.

Now... for better or for worse... the pieces were coming together, and while the universe was still bleak... it was still a warm universe... for it housed warm souls like Twilight.

And it could house a warm soul like his.

Flash gazed up into the sky. He saw constellations that he could not recognize—but he didn't bother to. Life was as much a mystery back home as it was here. Only—the magic and spontaneity of this place made everything so... refreshing. Like the amniotic fluid of rebirth—or something like it. He couldn't tell. He couldn't pretend to tell. All he could do was sit in one spot and drink it all in.

And in between the inhales and exhales, a bitter breath resurfaced. Somewhere... a mirror lied in wait... a portal that had expelled a foreign contaminant.

Flash didn't belong there.

And yet... as hard as he tried to buck up and face reality...

...he knew he didn't belong back home either. Even if he had become coldly-acquainted with the shadows, dust, and shadows of dust that made up his supposed home. It simply wasn't accelerating him anywhere. It wasn't conducive to growing... to moving... to advancing.

Life was about living, and he didn't seem to know what living felt like... until just a few hours ago.

He didn't know why, but he was smiling. It wasn't quite the reaction he was looking for, but he knew better than to complain. At last, he pulled the headphones off his ears with a lazy hoof. The cold that filled his fuzzy lobes was numbing, but refreshing all the same. He felt as though the world was breathing on him. In just a few seconds, the lips would meet, and he would be at the end of a long, cosmic kiss.

So he closed his eyes and waited for it... even if it would never come... even if he had already reached the pinnacle of human... equine... or cognitive comprehension.

If the best in life had already happened... then what was there to mourn? Good things were good things; it didn't matter if the afterglow lasted a day or seventy years.

And for the first time in as long as Flash could remember, he felt... thankful.

The exhaustion of thinking had taken its toll. Soon, without much effort whatseover, Flash felt himself fall asleep.

He was thankful for that too.

Author's Note

New Cover Art provided graciously by amalgamzaku aka mix-up

You can find his art here.

Wane

All was silent... until another silence permeated it.

Flash's eyes flickered open.

A face stared back at him from across the shadows. A blank face. A sad face. A human face.

It was the reflection off the dead computer monitor on the opposite side of his room.

Flash Sentry was home. It was night. Everything was predictably, recognizably miserable. Stagnant.

Jolting, the teenager sat up. It would be the only burst of energy he would expel. When he breathed, he felt like choking. His nostrils were so tiny. His mouth too small to register the frown that his soul was fermenting.

"Mmmmm..."

He rubbed his eyelids with his forelimb. All the fuzz was gone. He looked down at his hands, fingers flexing... grabbing at the traces of something fully faded into oblivion.

"Of course," Flash murmured. "Of course it was all a damned dream."

There was no response. There was never a response. The greatest epiphanies he had in life were merely echoes of a lost, hopeless mind.

He felt that the world might implode with the resulting sigh. To his meager surprise, it was merely a rhythm his heart and mind were ready to slip back into. Like an old coat, laced with dust.

He closed his eyes to it, ready to embrace the usual darkness that he could never sleep to—when something out of the ordinary distracted him. He tilted his head to the left... gazing towards his closet. A thin sliver of light persistently glowed from beyond the narrow doorframe. At first, his mind conjured wild, stupid things: a flashlight that had been left on, a discarded tablet that was cycling through a slideshow, or even a god-forsaken house fire.

But none of these explanations—be they generic or hyperbolic—could explain the persistent pale glow emanating from the shallow chamber.

So... with aching limbs... Flash swiveled his human body out of bed. He leaned forward... and fell squarely on his chest. "Ooomf!" Wincing against the carpet, he cursed beneath his teeth and pushed himself up—wobbling—until he stood on two bipedal legs. Another sigh, and he limped tiredly towards the light. Squinting. Examining. But not even remotely understanding.

Soon, he was inches away from the doorframe. His toes scuffled to a stop right before the sliver of light. A pale sheen glinted off his nails.

Flash tongued the inside of his mouth. Something tingled deep inside him... a curiosity with righteous purpose. He reached a hand forward, opened the closet door... and boldly stepped inside.

Only until he was several feet past the entrance did he realize two strange things: 1) This was his bedroom closet, only it wasn't. Chiefly, it was at least forty square feet larger than he remembered... and bereft of any clothes, junk, or forgotten heirlooms. 2) Secondly... the barren beige walls of the compartment were lit up by a giant round orb that simply... floated there.

But it was no mere sphere, but rather a thing of character: with craters and pale mountains and dark ravines and irregularly shaped maria. The thing was millions of times the teenager's body mass, and Flash was left wondering how it didn't somehow rip up the foundation of the house from underneath him.

"Uhm..." Flash squinted into the pale brilliance. "...what's the Moon doing in my closet?" His eyes settled on a crescent of dark maria situated in the center of the body in question. "And why can't I smell my gym socks?"

It was at precisely that moment when a muzzle moved along the nape of the dark splotch. "Your dreams do not belong to this world, strange creature."

"Aaaaaagh!" Flash fell backwards like a lopsided anvil. He scrunched backwards into the door-less wall, flinching. "Butt nuggets!"

"And, as a matter of fact..." The source of the ethereal voice was—in fact—the equine-shaped head and neck in the center of the sphere. It was presently turning to face the teenager, peering from beyond a pair of glowing eyeslits. "...neither do you."

Wax

"Please...!" Flash Sentry squeaked, covering his sweaty forehead with a pair of trembling arms. "Oh please oh please oh please... don't roll over me!"

The Moon had no reponse, but the horned shadow within did. "I cannot harm you, creature," the voice said, strong and bombastic... and yet regal and calm. "And even if I was capable of doing so, you have my promise that I would not."

"Mmmmmmmmmm—" Flash stopped squealing like an incontinent ballet dancer just long enough to squint at the giant sphere hovering before him. "Wait..." His heart rose and sank at once. Flash imagined a pair of fuzzy ears perking, but he ultimately had to settle for puny, blushing lobes. "That... that voice..." He swallowed dryly. "I know that voice."

The horse in the moon froze—if only briefly. It looked as though it was contemplating the human's last statement. "Indeed you do," the voice said. "Or, perhaps, you think that you do."

"But... it c-can't..." Flash gnashed his teeth. It was too stupid to be contemplated, much less pronounced. He did so anyways. "Vice Principal Luna?"

"A most interesting title indeed," said the shadow. "Even more interesting that you would give it with such honest conviction." Either the shadow shrank or the Moon enlarged. Either way, the figure stopped being a head and neck and turned into a full-fledged equine... a full-fledged equine with both a horn and a set of wings, that is. Before Flash could register the weirdness of it all, it turned to "trot" towards Flash from the core of the pale sphere. "I assure you, I am Luna... but the honor of 'Vice Principal' must go to somebody else, I'm afraid. And now... I do believe you have confirmed for me exactly where you hail from."

"I..." Flash gulped. "I-I have...?"

"As Princess of the Night, I am also the Guardian of Dreams. This has acquainted me with every vision that crosses the slumbering minds of Equestria's denizens, both sentient and sapient."

"Uh..." Flash squinted. "There's a difference?"

"Indeed there is, creature, and you belong to the latter: a very... new and hitherto unique form of sapience that I haven't had the fortune of observing until just recently... when you entered the dreamscape with your consciousness in tow. I can only surmise that you arrived in Equestria less than twenty-four hours ago... and I do believe I know from where."

A cold shudder ran down Flash's spine. "Yeahhhh..."

Just then, the shadow stopped moving altogether. Its glimmering eyes tilted—along with its head. A gesture of curiosity. "Do I frighten you, creature?"

"Mmmmm... j-just a tad."

"I see. That is something that I have yet to avoid with my subjects, despite several years of dedicated adjustment. I attempted to fabricate an environment most familiar to you in order to engage in dreamscape conversation. However, perhaps there is still a foreign element remaining that leaves you uneasy."

"What... do you mean?" Flash asked.

"Please, be calm." Just then, the four-legged shape took on a two-legged one. She came to the surface in a graceful stride, her blue flesh peeling out from underneath the lunar surface like a mermaid surfacing. "There is nothing to fear."

Nevertheless, Flash flinched—forcing himself to look in the opposite direction. The redness flushing to his cheeks was more than a little bit pronounced.

"... ... ...is something the matter?" the woman asked.

"Uh... yeah?" Flash stapled his eyes to the corners of the ginormous closet. "You're friggin' nude."

"Nude?" A calm, regal pause. "Ah. But of course. Your species wears clothes for culturally-engrained purposes. Very well." There was a flicker of light. The aura in the room dimmed slightly. The next pronouncement was noticeably gentler. "You may look now."

Flash did. Principal Luna stood before him, garbed in the same formal pantsuit he was used to seeing the faculty member in. An image that was unmistakably taken from his mind.

"Is this more appropriate?" she asked.

"Totally," he wheezed. Then—in a nervous jolt—Flash glanced down at his own self... relieved to be wearing the usual t-shirt and shorts that he wore every night to bed. "Did... you dress me as well?"

"Insomuch that I helped conjure your own projected self-image for the dreamscape..." Luna calmly nodded. "Then... yes. I dressed you."

"Cool." Flash smiled for the first time—and it was with awkward relief. "Thanks for not putting me in a banana hammock or something."

"Curious..." Luna glanced at her suddenly human fingers, flexing them and examining them as if for the first time. "You are a highly-advanced creature capable of deductive reasoning. No doubt you would have fully-understood the projected dream that we are both situated in. And yet..." Her eyes calmly shifted his way. "You nevertheless insisted on modesty when it came to a person who is not here among us right now."

"Errr..." Flash fidgeted. "No offense to you—uhh... to her... Vice Principal Luna, I mean... but..." He rubbed the back of his head. "She's... ehhh... kind of like a mentor figure to me... not to mention way older." He cleared his throat. "It would be super weird."

"I see."

"Heh..." Flash blushed again. "I bet that sounds totally lame, now that I think about it."

"I fail to see what is 'lame' about it, young one," Luna said. "As a matter of fact, I find it quite noble... and it further dissuades my fears concerning you and your nature."

"I guess... I'll take that as a compliment."

"Nevertheless, you still do not belong here," the woman said, folding her forelimbs. "I have intercepted your dreams—from hundreds of miles away inside the Royal Palace of Canterlot—in order to speak with you on the matter."

"Right..." Flash stood up straight like a grade schooler about to accept his punishment. "I figured this moment would come sooner than later."

"How do you mean?"

"This is the point where you kick me out of Horsie Land, right?" Flash paused. His eyes darted about the moonlit closet. "... ... ...I am still... in Horsie Land? Like... my body'n'stuff? My Horsie Land Horse body?"

"By that, do you mean your equine self within Equestria?" Luna nodded. "Affirmative. However, I do not mean to imply that this is an interrogation."

"You don't?" He blinked.

She shook her head. "As a matter of fact, let us start over. I think it is only fair and proper that I introduce myself." That said, she performed the most perfect of curtsies. "I am Princess Luna, Alicorn Bringer of the Night and the Guardian of Dreams.""

"Awesome-sauce." Flash smiled... and then that smile shattered. Like a crystal chalice. "Wait... you're... a princess in this land?"

"That is correct."

"Hah! No shit!" Flash instantly wretched. "Er... what I mean to say is..." Her performed a hideously clumsy bow. "No shit, Your Highness...?"

Dream

"As Princess, it is my sworn duty to protect the denizens of Equestria," Luna said, pacing around the room, the Moon, and Flash. "I have not always been... exceptional at this task, but I have nevertheless practiced it with full vigilance as of late."

"I'm guessing that's how you picked up on me," Flash Sentry said. His ears twitched to a high-pitched noise coming from somewhere, and he looked towards the corners of the enlarged closet in confusion.

"Indeed," Luna stated, redirecting Flash's attention back to her. The woman's eyes pulsed with every other word. "Your consciousness rippled across the dreamscape like a shockwave." She arched an eyebrow. "At first, I simply... observed you from afar to see what vision your mind might conjure up. However... your slumbering mind remained in a blank state, so I saw it fit to force this environment to manifest itself."

"Err... yeah..." Flash rubbed the back of his neck.

"How curious," Luna remarked. "Are your kind incapable of dreaming where you come from?"

"Oh... nah." Flash gulped. "Humans dream. We totally do. I've just..." He sighed. "I-I haven't had much to dream about lately."

Luna simply stared at him thoughtfully.

Again, Flash's ears tickled. He ignored the sound beyond the closet walls. "So... since you're a guardian and all that... and you've sensed my presence like a 'shockwave'... does that mean that I'm... y'know... dangerous to ponies n'stuff?"

The woman folded her arms, taking a contemplative breath. At last, she said, "I am not sure. Your heart is what I would call 'passive,' but your mind is a thick, tangled mess. It is indeed quite possible that I simply do not understand what constitutes the mental make-up of your kind, but I am currently at a loss to properly 'read' you."

"Heh... trust me..." Flash pointed at his dream-skull. "There's not much up there."

"Melancholic."

Flash blinked.

"I sense much sadness in you," she said in an emotionless tone. "And something else of a far darker shade... something that wears that sadness like a cloak. However... already I sense that some holes are starting to form in such a jacket. I suspect this has happened only recently."

"I... uh... I-I don't know about all that."

"Perhaps you don't. But now I do know what brought you here," Princess Luna said with a contemplative nod. "Maybe your kind isn't nearly as malevolent as I would have feared."

"But—you said it yourself: I don't belong here."

"No. You do not." Luna's blue brow furrowed. "But my concern is no longer for my own subjects."

"Mmmfff..." Flash leaned back against a wall, rubbing his forehead. "I guess I... erm... s-sorta left my home without much warning." He bit his lip. "Though I can't imagine anyone actually missing me," he added in a breathy tone.

"Is that what you truly believe?"

He frowned into the penumbra of the Moon's glow. "Belief's got nothing to do with it."

Silence.

"The universe is vast," Luna declared. "The multi-verse even more so." She stepped towards him. "And it is all predominantly comprised of emptiness. Nevertheless..." She stood before the teenager, eyes full of wisdom. "The yearning in so few hearts vastly outweighs the desolation... with warmth that even the brightest, most burning stars can't hope to surpass. I sense that you are a creature plagued by emptiness. But all things lost are destined to be found. This remains true, no matter the despair that might cloud your ability to ascertain such."

Flash fought a lump in his throat. "Those are kind words, Vice Pr—... er... Princess Luna." He bravely looked up at her. "But let's face it. I'm just a punk kid running away from his life like a coward."

"And everything you've done since arriving in my land—has it all been 'cowardly?'"

Flash's mouth opened, but he had nothing to say.

Again, he heard the noise.

He looked towards the walls, eyes searching even as he spoke: "I guess... you'll be wanting to escort me back to that portal thingy in Twilight's castle basement now? Send me back to the world from which I came?"

Luna looked at him, at the Moon, then back at the teenager again. "No."

That ripped Flash's attention away from the strange noise that was still intensifying. "No?" He fidgeted. "But... you said it yourself! I don't belong here."

"I sense that you still have many things to accomplish here in this world," Luna said. "Among my subjects. So long as my royal intuition remains true, I cannot attempt sending you back... and neither should the other Princesses."

"Yeah..." Flash's nostrils flared. "And it's all a bunch of selfish shit, Your Highness. Let's face it. I'm pathetic."

Luna's head cocked to the side. "Precisely who said you would be doing things simply for yourself?"

Flash blinked in confusion.

"Do you have a name, creature?"

"Uhm..." Flash squirmed awkwardly. "Flash. Flash Sentry."

Luna took a few seconds to contemplate that. "How fascinating," was her response, and it was spoken in an off-tone. She took a breath. "Well, Mr. Flash Sentry, I shall be watching intently. I assure you."

"But Luna... your highness... what did you mean by—?" Flash jolted, for the noise buzzing around the closet was positively deafening now. He grimaced, looking all around. "That... that sound." He paled. "It..." He gaped at Luna. "It sounds like someone screaming."

Luna nodded, stepping backwards into a shroud of darkness. "Indeed."

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa—"

Wake

"—aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!!!

Flash's pony eyes flew open.

His pony ears pivoted skyward.

In a jolt, the waking pegasus leapt up to his hooves, perched atop a lofty mountaintop. He looked up towards the dimly-lit haze of an early dawn.

In a blink, he saw the source of the screaming voice. A body was falling. A child's body—a child horse in a deathly plummet.

"Aaaaaaaaaaaa-aaaaaaaaah!"

"Holy boobjobs!" Flash gnashed his teeth. The scent of muffins wafted magically through his nose, and in the next adrenalized breath he was leaping off the cliffside with both wings outstretched like Derpy taught him. "Hang on! I've got you!"

The child said nothing—he only screamed. It was a colt—or so Flash surmised, for the falling body was streaking past him and sailing towards the rock-hard valley below.

"Ah jeez!" Flash's flight turned into a dive as he struggled to outfly the child's terminal velocity. The exhaustion of sleep flew out of his mind like a torn banner, and her burst on through with steely determination. Within milliseconds, he was gaining speed on the child, drawing close enough to see the colt's glistening horn, his flailing legs, and his rippling blonde mane. "Don't worry, kid!" He reached out with his hands. "I've got you—!"

The foal slipped through his fingers... just as Flash suddenly remembered he did not have fingers. Or hands.

"Sh-shit!" Flash cursed his dreamself and flapped his wings in an angry burst, missiling downward at Herculean speeds. "Just a second! I swear—" Trees and dirt materialized in his peripheral. The two of them were so close to the bottom of the valley that he could smell lichen and fungus. "Grnnnnngh—"

At long last, he outflew the foal's descent, barreled under him, and caught the child's flailing body in the crook of his fetlocks—just like he might catch a football back home.

"There!" He pivoted his wings and flapped them sideways, ascending before the two of them could become glue smears on the ravine floor. "Ha! Boo-ya!" Sweating, Flash cradled the shivering youngster in his forelimbs. "See? Told you I would—"

"You stupid filthy peasant!" The child grunted, slapping Flash's shoulder and neck repeatedly with dainty hooves. Flash smelled cologne and talcum powder. He realized that the angry child was dressed snugly in a silk jacket with aristocratic finery. "You nearly dropped me! What kind of a Wonderbolt are you?! Where's your uniform?!"

"Uhhhhhhhh..." Flash blinked. Hard. "You're welcome?" His orange muzzle scrunched. "And what's a 'Wonderbolt?'"

"This is all that upstart businessstallion's fault! Sending Spitfire, Soarin', and all the good fliers off to snoop around those smelly canines!"

"Kid, what are you even—"

"Take me back! Take me back nowww!" The child started sniffling. Tears ran down his pale muzzle and ruined his immaculate collar. "I want to see my Uncle! I want to see my Uncle Bluuuuue! Waaaaaaaah!"

Flash winced as the blubbering colt sobbed and wailed in his grasp. "Kid, just hold on a second. Who's Uncle Blue? And... and..." He gritted his teeth. "Where the Hell did you even fall from anyways—?"

Just as he said this, an immense shadow drew over the two of them. Flash looked up past the summits of the mountains flanking the ravine.

A large, elliptical body was cruising through the dim dawn sky. Flash observed a hard wooden finish, along with portholes, a rudder, and even an anchor. For all intents and purposes, it was as though he was gazing up at the lower hull of a sailing vessel. But then—as the vessel turned about... as if to search for something missing—Flash noticed a thick set of elongated balloons holding the craft aloft, almost like—

"A zeppelin?" Flash couldn't help but smile. The sobs of the colt felt like they were miles away, displaced by a sudden and inescapable bubble of magic horsie wonder. Smirking, Flash adjusted his grip of the foal, flapped his wings harder... and ascended to meet up with the large drifting sky vessel.

Shouts

As Flash ascended with the colt in his grasp, he could already hear three distant voices shouting out from the top deck of the enormous air cruiser. They got clearer and clearer as he neared the vessel's port side.

"Where's that blasted flare?! We need the Wonderbolts to fly back right away!"

"You heard Mr. Pants! Get right on it! And what are you other ponies standing around for?! Sweep the canyon with searchlights!"

"Searchlights?! What's the use at this point?! My nephew is doomed! DooOOooOOoomed I tell you!"

"Now don't be so quick to give up hope, Your Eminence! He's a resourceful young chap! Surely his innate royal skills in magic will have slowed his fall—"

"Are you kidding me?! The way my sister pampers him, he's lucky if he can levitate the silver spoon from his mouth!"

"Where are those blasted searchlights?!"

"You heard the Captain! Get a move on, lads! We have a foal overboard whom we have to find—!"

"Don't you get it?! It's over! Oh, the Equinityyyy! The last line of the Bluebloods! An azure smear on the canyon walls! It's simply horrid!"

"My good Prince..."

"This is all your fault, Captain! Sending those Wonderbolts up ahead to scout out the rendezvous point! And how come none of your other crewponies are pegasi, huh?! If only we had a pair of wings—"

"I thought I made it clear that all young hooves were to remain below deck—"

"Am I actually expected to sequester the boy in one place?! Who do you think I am?!"

"His... Uncle...?"

"And just what is that supposed to mean?!"

"Gentlecolts..."

"I'll have you know that I'm even more responsible than Princess Cadance herself! Why, that overtly fertile trollop—"

"Gentlecolts! Now, now... let us not leap at each other's jugulars. And—by Jove—let us not unnecessarily insult matriarchs who aren't even here! Now... you over there! Can you activate that searchlight!"

"Primed and ready, Mr. Pants... Sir!"

"Well, cast the bloody thing!"

A bright beam of light shimmered off the port side...

...just in time to catch the streaking form of Flash Sentry. The windy air filled with gasps as he flew past the edge of the vessel and came descending softly to the varnished wooden deck. Over a dozen ponies in uniforms stared at him, wide-eyed. Three stallions in particular stood out: one in a captain's uniform, a unicorn with a slick blonde mane, and another unicorn bearing a mustache and a monocle. All was silent, until the thing cradled in Flash's forelimbs began whining again—this time in a much more needy pitch.

"Uncle!" the colt bellowed. "Uncle! Uncle! It was horrible! I almost succumbed to gravity!" He choked on a sob. "That's an earth pony's fate!"

The blonde gasped, tossing his mane before galloping over to Flash. "Oh my! My little Canterloy! Are you alright?!"

"Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!" was the child's apt response.

"Uhhhhh..." Flash smiled nervously. "...did somebody drop a fop?"

"Give me back my nephew at once!" the blonde snarled, yanking the colt towards him in a telekinetic burst. He proceeded to cradle and caress the shivering creature with no small amount of coddling. "Now what compelled you to draw so near to the railing, my little cherub???"

"I-I had no choice, Uncle Blue! I... I had to..." The colt stopped crying long enough to fidget and say, "...dispel last evening's dinner with great haste."

"You silly little prince! They have a lavatory on board for that!"

"You think I'm going to touch those peasant toilets?"

"Well, it's certainly better than touching the bone-crushing ground!" The blonde groaned. "Why couldn't you be off on a picnic in Dream Valley along with your mother..."

"She hates heights!"

"That's not the point..."

The rest of the ponies were staring dumbfounded at Flash Sentry.

"My stars and garters..." The remaining unicorn cleaned his monocle and used it to study the teenager closer. "Do you have any idea what you've done, brave stranger? You just single-hoofedly saved the Blueblood family line!"

"Hey, neato!" Flash smiled... but then his ears folded. "That's a good thing, right?"

The pony in a captain's uniform grumbled aside: "A matter of perspective."

The unicorn chided him. "Now now, Captain... stiff upper lip. This crew is better than that sort of attitude and you should be an example to them!" He smiled proudly, carrying an air of aristocratic charm. "After all, I only hire the best to run my ship!"

Just then, a frazzled earth pony scampered up from below deck. "I've got the flare!" POW! He instantly fired the bright red flame into the early morning sky... only to glance over and behold the reunited Princes with a limp gaze. "Oh... uhm..."

The monocled stallion face-hoofed. "Goddess, give me strength..."

Flash Sentry couldn't help but chuckle.

Crew

"A-a-ahem..." The mustached unicorn squinted aside. "Captain, if you wouldn't mind..."

The superior officer nodded, then proceeded to bark to all of the subordinates on deck. "Back to your stations, everypony! The crisis has been averted!"

"But Captain..." One deckhoof with folded ears meekly pointed at the fizzled beacon in the sky. "The flare—"

"What's done is done!" the Captain exclaimed. "No doubt the Wonderbolts will have had their reconnaissance interrupted by now. Let's not focus on that, and instead prepare for entering canine mountainspace! I want all sentries minding their posts! Keep an eye out for the summits! Those dogs could be anywhere!"

"Aye, sir!"

"Right away, sir!"

As ponies in uniforms galloped left and right, the unicorn with a monocle calmly trotted across the way and came to a stop before Flash Sentry. "So, then... what name might I put into the logbook for a commendation?"

Flash gave the aristocrat a double-take. "Huh? Commendation?"

The unicorn smirked. "I wasn't being coy, my good fellow. You did save a Prince just now. Surely this will improve your chances at receiving a promotion in your Brigade."

"Brigade?" Flash blinked. "Dude, I was just... y'know... out for a rip." He smiled crookedly. "A sky rip?"

The gentlecolt across from him adjusted his monocle. "You mean to tell me you're not a member of the Canterlot Guard out on patrol?"

"Uhhhh... no?"

"But these are treacherous clouds! The diamond dogs own these skies—as well as the mountains!"

"Diamond dogs?" Flash tilted his head aside. "You mean like David Bowie?"

"I beg your pardon?"

Flash fidgeted. "... ... ...Halloween Jack?"

The stallion chuckled. "Forgive me for being so curious. Are you or are you not a member of the Equestrian Defense force?"

"I'm sorry. I was just... y'know... flying." Flash gestured at the headphones hanging around his neck. "And rockin' some really awesome tunes in the process. Heh. Ever listened to Vinyl Scratch's stuff?"

"I... can't say that I have." The aristocrat cleared his throat. "Maybe a proper introduction would be in order."

"Yeah, sure."

He bowed before Flash with a soft smile. "My name is Fancy Pants. Entrepreneur. Philanthropist. Businessstallion."

"Snappy dresser."

"Cheers!" Fancy Pants gestured around him. "Welcome aboard the Midnight Oil. My latest prized zeppelin of Manehattan Engineering." He winked through his monocle. "I own an entire fleet of them, you see."

"Cool beans!" Flash smiled.

"Er... yes... they most certainly... are?"

The Captain strolled up. "Mr. Pants, we have resumed our course west into the canine lands."

"Ah!" Fancy Pants stepped towards the Captain's side. "And this lovely officer is the esteemed Captain Typhoon!"

The prim and proper stallion took a deep breath. "Captain Typhoon of the Twenty-Fourth Pegasus Brigade—"

"So formal! But then again..." Fancy Pants chuckled. "That's one of the reasons why I chose him to oversee this most fortuitous expedition." He patted the officer's uniformed shoulder. "Do loosen up, ol' chap! We started the morning with a miracle, didn't we?"

Captain Typhoon exhaled out his nostrils. "It will only be worth celebrating if we end this mission with one."

"Stiff upper lip! We'll have a plan drafted up as soon as the Wonderbolts return! I trust they are flying back to the Midnight Oil by now."

"No doubt they would have seen the flare, Mr. Pants."

"Very well. We'll make the best of it." Fancy Pants turned towards Flash, smiling. "And as for you—young one—they're bound to make a statue out of you in the royal gardens."

Flash blinked. "Who are?"

"Why, the Blueblood family, of course. Or at least Her Royal Highness Princess Azul."

"Gesundheit."

"Quite true, my good lad. Good deeds like this don't go unrewarded, especially when executed so casually by a random, humble civilian. What might your name be so that we could inscribe it on a plaque in due time?"

"Uhm..." Flash coughed. "Brad."

Fancy Pants stared at him. "Brad Breeze? Brad Skies? Brad Summers?"

"Nope. Just Brad."

"Hmmmm... how curiously monosyllabic. Forgive my old-fashioned nature, but just what inspires a name such as that?"

"Nothing much. I assure you."

"Well, it will make for an interesting plaque, I'm sure," Fancy Pants said. "I'm sure His Eminence will agree."

Flash looked towards the cabin. "What... are you dudes doing out here anyway?"

"Why, we're—"

Captain Typhoon cleared his throat.

Fancy Pants looked aside. "Why, my good Captain! It's no national secret!"

"The success of this mission depends on the utmost secrecy," Typhoon declared.

"What, do you suspect this young stallion of being in league with a rogue group of militant canines?" Fancy Pants suppressed a laugh. "Besides, you know how gossipy the farm folk of Equestria are! More ponies than we expect must be knowledgeable of our expedition by now."

Typhoon's eyes narrowed on Flash. "You truly weren't informed of the forbidden skies around these parts?"

"Uhhh... well... just how 'forbidden' are we talking about?" Flash gulped. "Am I about to have my manure pushed in or something?"

"Nothing of the sort!" Fancy Pants exclaimed. "We're blessed to have someone as courageous as you on board!" He squinted aside at Typhoon. "Isn't that right, Captain?"

The Captain sighed. "Mr. Pants..."

"You... do remember who owns the Midnight Oil, yes?"

A low growling sound surfaced in the uniformed horse's throat, only to diminish beneath a soft sigh. "We must have some degree of protocol around here, sir... or else I fear this expedition will end in failure."

"Something we can indeed work on once the Wonderbolts return, dear Captain."

"We shall see. I must observe the crew. If you will pardon me." Typhoon then trotted off.

"Okay... question..." Flash scratched his fuzzy orange chin. "How does a pony without wings get to be a Captain in the Twenty-Fourth Pegasus Brigade?"

"A most sore subject, I assure you." Fancy Pants hummed. "Very wise of you to wait until after he's left earshot to mention it, young lad."

"Right. I'll keep mum about it from now on."

"Now, I'm dying to ask. Precisely where do you hail from, Mr. Brad?"

"Uhhhhhhhhhh..." Flash fumbled with the headphones around his neck. "Someplace far away."

"Oh? You mean a city like Seaddle? Fillyda? Neighva Scotia?"

Flash tripped on his tongue. "Ponyville."

"Hah! Ponyville?!" Fancy Pants grinned. "Why, that's not very far away at all!"

"Er..."

"But a lot of truly wonderful things come from Ponyville," Fancy Pants said warmly. "Not to mention truly wonderful ponies. I'm not surprised even the slightest. It's good to have you on board."

Flash exhaled with relief. "It's good to be on board." And he smiled, for he was telling the truth.

Fancy

"You truly have no idea what the Midnight Oil is doing out here, do you, lad?" Fancy Pants remarked as he paced down the port side of the airship in question.

Flash Sentry strolled along with him, shrugging. "Can't say that I do."

"None of the local gossip has clued you in to our operations?"

"Should they? I mean..." Flash chuckled. "Sorry to disappoint you, Mr. Fancy Pants. But I'm an idiot. That is, I mean well. Honest. A well-meaning idiot."

"Don't sell yourself short!" Fancy Pants adjusted his monocle in mid-trot. "Someone with nimble colt-saving skills such as yours must absolutely possess a certain sharpness of mind!"

"Well, I'll take your word for it." Flash looked up at the gentlecolt. He tried to put his mind on when and where he may have seen that face or heard that voice before—albeit in Homo sapiens mode. Something about the aristocratic nature of the stallion forced him to dwell on his scant memories of Crystal Prep faculty—what few he could recollect. But he was at a loss. Rather than appear even more like a mindless idiot, he blurted forth: "But I truly don't remember any ponies talking about a zeppelin full of non-winged horses."

"Heh..." Fancy Pants adjusted his collar. "Is it that pathetic?"

"Uhhhhh—"

"The result of a once-treasured accountant attempting to make budget cuts," Fancy Pants muttered. "I assure you—as I will most certainly assure his eminence—that mistake will not happen again. This ship is meant to function smoothly... and competently... with or without the involvement of the Wonderbolts!"

"These 'Wonderbolts' must be pretty important ponies."

"My word!" Fancy Pants swiveled to face him, jaw agape. "You must truly be out of your element if you don't even know who the Wonderbolts are!"

Flash shrugged with a stupid smile. "Guilty as charged! Now do you believe the 'idiot' part?"

The older stallion took a moment to polish his eyepiece. "... ... ...I do believe uninformed is the more proper word. Lots of ponies here in the rural valley place turnips before pop culture. Even those with wings. Who am I to judge?"

"You won't judge and I won't care."

"A solid exchange, good sir!" Fancy Pants rested the article back within his eye socket. "The Wonderbolts are the most talented fliers in all of Equestria! Not only that, but they're a supremely reliable defense force—traditionally loyal to the protection of the Royal Sisters and all of their branching relatives. Seeing as I've... how should you say... coaxed Prince Blueblood and his young nephew to join me on this business excursion—heheh—I've been fortunate enough to have the Wonderbolts as an escort along with Captain Typhoon and his crew! An airborne expedition like this hasn't been undertaken in generations!"

"And this is your ship?"

"Indubitably."

Flash smiled. "I guess you must be super proud."

"Hmmmm... indeed. But I mustn't rest on my laurels!" Fancy Pants gestured as the two reached the bow. "Any and all celebration must wait until after the deal has been made!"

"Deal?"

"Mmmm... yes. With the Diamond Dogs, of course."

"Alright. Sooooooooo..." Flash rubbed his thick head through his blue mane. "...if not David Bowie, then I'm guessing it has nothing to do with Beck either."

"I wouldn't know about this 'Beck,' but I'm more than prepared for quite the bite!" Fancy Pants looked out at the rows and rows of arid mountains unfolding before the brightening dawnlight. "The diamond dogs all answer to a Ruling Alpha, you see. And the rumor is that he hails from this part of the continent."

"You're talking about actual, literal dogs, aren't you?" Flash murmured in wonder.

"Not just any canines, but sapient creatures capable of complex underground colonies and subterranean civilization!" Fancy Pants smirked. "And after months and months of diplomatic preparation, I do believe Prince Blueblood and I are about to finally make headway in calming their mangy, violent ways!"

"Are they super dangerous?"

"Oh! No! Well..." Fancy Pants coughed. "To a fault, I suppose. If a wayward pony was to wander into their territory... ehhhh..." He waved his fetlock from side to side. "They just might expect imprisonment and slavery deep within their jewel mines. BUT!" He grinned beneath his mustache. "This expedition seeks to end all of that unethical buffoonery! We're at the dawn of a new era of peace! Of tranquility! Of friendship!"

Flash looked at the immaculate lapel Fancy Pants was sporting. He smirked. "Not to mention a really snazzy new diamond trade. Verdad?"

"Absolutely—errrrrr..." Fancy Pants chuckled nervously. "Let's say—for the sake of good will—that all entrepreneurial benefits will take a back seat to establishing peace." He sighed. "Although there is a reason why I hired a whole new Interspecies Trade Department of my Canterlot business."

Flash let loose a hearty laugh.

Fancy Pants smirked. "It's like I said. You're not quite an idiot after all, Mr. Brad."

"Hey..." Flash shrugged. "Whatever helps both you and the Snoop Dogs."

"Diamond Dogs."

"Whatever."

"There's nothing more profitable for business than peace," Fancy Pants said. "It was true in the time of Chancellor Puddinghead, and it's true now."

Flash stared at him thoughtfully. He exhaled, "I wish more people thought like that, Mr. Pants."

"Heheh! Why wouldn't they?!"

Flash bit his lip.

"Ah!" Fancy Pants scanned the western horizon as several winged blue dots formed over the mountain peaks. "Just on time!"

Flash turned to witness...

Wonder

No less than nine pegasi landed on the deck of the Midnight Oil with remarkable grace. Their blue jumpsuits glinted in the early dawn-light, but Flash's eyes were drawn towards one figure in particular. To his shock, her head and mane were on fire. However, when she began speaking—in a calm and scratchy tone at that—he realized she wasn't being immolated in agony.

"Alright. What's the deal, Pants?!" She strolled forward, lifting the goggles off her face to reveal a pair of bright amber eyes. Her coat was yellow. Her mane was yellow. Her eyes and tongue and even her voice: "We've been over this a hundred times. The only reason you should be firing a flare is if the ship is on fire or if you're being attacked."

"A thousand pardons, Captain Spitfire," Fancy Pants said, bowing ever so slightly. His calm voice contrasted her anxious, pacing presence. "We had ourselves something of a dilemma. But fear not. It's been taken care of now."

The mare arched a fiery eyebrow. "What kind of a dilemma?"

Captain Typhoon strolled up. "Prince Canterloy fell overboard."

Stunned, several of the uniformed pegasi exchanged dumb glances.

"However..." Typhoon sighed. "It would appear as though providence was on our side. He was saved by a random citizen. The flare was fired belatedly by one of my junior officers. I apologize for redirecting you from your reconnaissance."

"Spitfire's" muzzle scrunched, positively shriveling inside the mouthhole of her suit. "Citizen? What citizen???"

"Why, this fine fellow right here!" Fancy Pants said, smiling in Flash's direction. "Mr. Brad. He hails from Ponyville!"

"Ponyville???" Spitfire nearly spat. "I swear, is there something in that town's water?! These are dangerous skies for anypony to be flying in! The moment you get grounded, you'd be dogfood!"

"Errrr..." Fancy Pants smiled nervously at Flash. "Perhaps I should introduce you to the superior officer of our escort and Captain of the Wonderbolts: Spitfire."

Flash did his best salute. "Pleased to meet you, Captain. What's your first name? Jaundice?"

Spitfire's ears twitched. "I beg your pardon?"

A stallion cleared his throat then lowered his goggles. The very moment he spoke, Flash thought he was listening to the hero from Disney's Aladdin. "Did you... actually save Prince Blueblood's nephew?"

Before Flash could reply, Fancy Pants blurted: "He absolutely did! Right when we were all panicking and expecting the worse! Snatched him straight out of the sky! Back in the ravine east of our current location! He came up from below with the poor shivering fellow in his arms!"

"It... went a great deal more awkwardly than Mr. Pants here is describing," Flash said with a nervous titter. "He slipped through my hooves once." He gulped. "I nearly dropped the little dude."

"Still... if the Midnight Oil was above you at the time—at that point in the day—it must have been next to zero visibility!" the stallion exclaimed. His voice took on new breathy levels of surfer dude-ism as he grinned. "You practically saved his tail while blind! That's so awesome!"

Flash bit his lip, smiling.

"'Lucky' is the word I would choose," Spitfire said, grumbling. She trotted up and stared Flash down. "What's your name again, kid?"

"Errrrrrrrrr..." Flash was too busy trying to place her name and face on a human he knew back home... but ultimately decided against the whole thought altogether. He sweated more than just a little bit. "Brad."

"Brad what?"

"Just Brad... uhm... ma'am."

"Ugh... the names in Ponyville only get weirder and weirder."

"In any case, good work, Brad!" the jumpsuited stallion said.

"Yeah yeah, but everypony knows the rules!" Spitfire turned to face the rest of the so-called Wonderbolts. "These skies are categorized as extremely dangerous for the average citizenry. That includes the owner and royal accompaniment on board this ship." She sighed, evidently lacking sleep... among a few other things. She rubbed her muzzle and muttered: "As if this recent flare wasn't evidence enough... it was my mistake for leading the entire squadron out to do reconnaissance."

"We were making progress, Captain!" the stallion exclaimed. "So what if there was a minor hitch on board the Midnight Oil? Looks like luck was on our side—!"

"We can't afford to rely on luck!" Spitfire grumbled at him. "Especially when the safety of Equestrian royalty is on the line! Nor can we expect random orange fuzzballs to save our butts or our reputation!"

"Erm... r-right, Captain..."

"From now on, one of us will be assigned to guarding the Midnight Oil, its crew, and its citizen complement." She slapped a hoof against the stallion's chest. "You just became our first volunteer."

"Uhhhh—"

"Got a problem with that?"

He gulped. "No, Spitfire. Whatever you say, Spitfire."

"Good." Spitfire turned towards Captain Typhoon. "Typhoon, with your blessing, I would like to lead the rest of the team in searching the skies for our rendezvous."

"Rendezvous?" Flash asked.

Fancy Pants cleared his throat. "We're expecting to meet another zeppelin out here."

Flash's jaw dropped. "You mean you've got two of these crazy thingies in the sky?!"

Fancy Pants was already chuckling. "It's just a small transport. It'll be dropping off a few business partners who will be partaking in the upcoming diplomacy."

"It's also Brad Boy's ticket out of here," Spitfire said.

"Awwwwwww..." Flash's ears drooped. "But I just got here."

"Captain..." Fancy Pants tilted his chin up. "If you don't mind, I would very much like Mr. Brad here to join us."

"For what?" Spitfire squinted. "He's done his part. All he's good for now is diminishing our rations."

"I beg to differ! I feel he's earned a front row seat to history! After all, I've learned that the Ponyville lot are a veritable good luck charm!" He winked through his monocle. "Wouldn't you agree?"

For whatever reason, this somehow won the argument in Fancy Pants' favor. Flash could see it in Spitfire's eyes, despite her scrunching expression. "Hrmmmm... fine. Whatever. But you and Typhoon had better keep an eye on him. My team's here to make sure the canines don't rip your throats out. We're not here to babysit."

"Except for the royal lineage," the jumpsuited stallion said.

"That's your job, buddy!" Spitfire brushed past him, giving him a sassy wing-slap in the process. "Have fun changing Blueblood's diapers." Her scratchy voice rose an octave or two. "Alright, songbirds! Wing up! We've got a lot of recon to do!"

And the group of protectors soared skyward in a series of blue streaks. All except the sighing stallion who was stuck on guard duty.

Fancy Pants leaned in towards Flash. "Don't mind her. She's just sad she's had to give up drill sergeant privileges for the interim of this voyage."

"I'm getting the feeling you've nailed it on the head," Flash said.

"Heh..." The male Wonderbolt wandered over, lowering his cowl so that his dark blue mane flowed freely. "You have nooo idea." He smiled. "So... 'Brad,' huh?"

"Sure thing!"

"Ponyville sure makes for some great wings! Tell me..." He smirked. "Ever flown Ghastly Gorge with Rainbow Dash?"

A pit formed nervously in Flash's throat. "Rainbow... Dash...?"

"It's her stomping grounds, after all! Though she was born in Cloudsdale—heh—she's got Ponyville in her blood. Through and through. Landed herself a silver medal during the Equestrian Games!"

Flash gulped. "That sure sounds like Rainbow Dash, alright!"

"What drew you into this part of Equestria anyways? Seems like you were in the right time and place when Blueblood's nephew fell overboard."

"Oh, I was... uhm..." Flash rubbed the back of his head.

"Lemme guess." The stallion smirked. "Windchillin'?"

"Wind-what?"

"Y'know! Windchillin'!" He spread his wings. "When you just... take to the air and let the current take you places. The clouds and your thoughts become one. Except when you fart—that ruins the thermals big time."

Flash laughed. "Jee, how did you guess?"

"You seem like the kind of dude who lets the breeze take him wherever it wants." He winked, then extended a hoof. "The name's Soarin'."

"Heeeeeeeey..." Flash smiled, bumping his hoof. "Like the Disney ride?"

"Like the... what?"

"Er... I'm sorry. I learn that I confuse a lot of ponies."

"Hey! Don't be sorry." Soarin' smirked wryly. "So far, you've only confused Spitfire, and that's okay in my book!"

Both stallions chuckled as one.

Filler

The sun had fully risen, and with its light came a mesmerizing array of canyons, ravines, and chasms. They stretched infinitely beneath the floating prow of the Midnight Oil and—subsequently—beneath Flash Sentry. He gazed in wonder at the elaborate topography of the region, never staying particularly uniform in shape or configuration—but a constant chaotic shift of rock, granite, and limestone. How the ponies piloting Fancy Pants' prized vessel could manage to navigate that area of Equestria—much less tell east from west—was a mystery to the young teenager.

As the morning waxed on, Flash took note of the vessel's propulsion. A series of large metal fans positioned at the stern helped guide the ship forward, maintaining its remarkably swift velocity. Even though he couldn't figure out precisely what was steering the craft, he was pretty certain it was mechanical. It was of strange relief to him that not everything in that universe was bound by magic.

Despite the casual attitude of the ship's owner, the crew operated with utmost efficiency, minding their posts and keeping the vessel's operations in order. Gone was the awkward incompetence he briefly witnessed when he first landed on board. Then again, there wasn't a wayward young prince falling overboard every other second.

Flash wasn't certain who or what these "Diamond Dogs" were that Fancy Pants and Prince Blueblood were attempting to negotiate with. Neither did he know who they were rendezvousing with. All in all, the teenager was a confused observer of this business affair—which wasn't entirely a strange experience to be having in the land of Equestria. Only this time—it would seem—he was being carried along for the ride. The Midnight Oil was simply doing the job of "being carried away by the breeze" for him, which made the whole prospect simpler.

In the end, Flash decided not to stress it. All that mattered was that he stay out of everypony's way and plan—someway, somehow—to return back to Ponyville once he was done observing everything. He still had Vinyl Scratch's headphones to give back, after all.

The sun rose higher. It was approaching noon, and the cool breeze warmed slightly. Flash spent most of the trip near the bow, drinking in the scenery unfolding beneath him. The pony crewmembers all around him didn't possess any noticeable electronic machinery. Nor did he detect any wireless communicators or advanced forms of navigation. What's more, the landscape beneath him seemed... curiously bereft of civilized culture. Sure, "Diamond Dogs" lived out there—but he only knew that because he was told. Plus... these canine beasts sounded fantastical at best.

It was Flash's guess that Equestria as a nation was—by and large—mostly uninhabited... or else just sparsely populated. When he used to hear brief descriptions of the place beyond the mirror-portal back home, he envisioned sprawling cityscapes and royal metropolises. Instead, everything seemed... barren. Majestic. Expansive. It was as though he was flying over a grand frontier of spectacle and amazement. It was far different from what he expected, and it was a pleasant surprise.

The land of ponies was a simple place, Flash realized. And that was fine by him. He liked simple. Or—at least—he could get used to it.

That was as equally frightening a prospect as it was hypnotizing. He lessened his anxieties by listening to the rambling words of those around him, most chiefly Fancy Pants...

Crystals

"The reasons are quite simple," Fancy Pants said, levitating what looked like a martini glass in the air in front of him. The liquid was cool, brown—but lacking in bubbles. Flash occasionally got a whiff of apple, and he smiled innocently as the gentlecolt continued: "Number one: the diamond dogs are an infamously surly bunch and we're one step away from pacifying their packs once and for all!"

"Uh huh..."

"Second..." Fancy Pants smiled. "...making peace with such a canine culture will undoubtedly unlock oodles of precious gemstones, diamonds, and rubies! All of which will make for new and exciting avenues of trade! It'll be a boost for the world's economy! Both equine and canine!"

"Sooooooooooo..." Flash stretched and unstretched his wings as he stood casually along the starboard side of the Midnight Oil. "In the end, this is all about gemstones."

"Did you not hear the businessstallion?!" Prince Blueblood was busy brushing his mane. He stood a few paces away from Flash, overlooking the arid landscape below. Little Canterloy sat on a bench close to the cabin doors, nibbling on a silver plate full of celery. "This is about peace first! Trade second!"

"Mmmmm... but the young lad isn't wrong either, your Eminence," Fancy Pants murmured aside. He took the sip of the glass (Apple Juice? Cider? Hawaiian Punch?). "The future potential for financial gain is precisely why we are negotiating peace with the diamond dogs and not with—say—timberwolves."

"Pffft! Don't be hyperbolic, Mr. Pants!" Blueblood scoffed. "Of all the foul creatures polluting our wilderness, the diamond dogs are the only ones capable of any kind of rational thought! Our ancestors have been wedging open the door of diplomacy for generations!"

"And the one reason why they haven't been successful so far is that they resorted to calling these denizens 'foul creatures!'" Fancy Pants adjusted his monocle. "Which is chiefly why I suggest we let me do the talking as soon as we make contact with the canines' furry representatives."

"Grmmnnghhh..." Blueblood put away his brush and frowned. "Let us not forget—I'm the one connection we have to prove the crystalline angle!"

"Crystalline angle?" Flash Sentry asked. "What's that?"

Little Canterloy dabbed his chin with a napkin and spoke up: "My Uncle can prove that the diamonds in those mangy canines' hold can help ponies in the north!"

"Not all of them are 'mangy,' little dude," Soarin' remarked, hovering above. The Wonderbolt kept a good eye trained on the little noble. "Erm... your honor." Clearing his throat, he looked towards Fancy Pants and Blueblood. "And let us remember that the diamond dogs have as legal a claim to those crystalline jewels as the Crystal Imperialists."

"Since when were you hired to talk while keeping an eye on my precious nephew?!" Blueblood spat.

"Ha-HA!" Fancy Pants grinned wide. "But he is quite right, your Eminence! Our Canterlot archaeologists have proven that the diamond dogs—indeed—have been in possession of crystalline deposits for far longer than their equine neighbors. If we have any intent on respecting the diamond dogs, then we must respect history as well."

"But the ponies to the north—"

"They will get their share of the trade!" Fancy Pants insisted. "I'm sure of it! Have faith, my Lord. All things will go well so long as we treat the canines with the same respect as you and little Lord Canterloy would treat any of your subjects."

"Hrmmm..." Blueblood sighed, folding his forelimbs. "Easier said than done."

"What's... the big deal about 'crystalline diamonds?'" Flash asked. "Like... what's the difference?"

"They're the lifeblood for our cousins to the north!" Canterloy proclaimed.

"What cousins?"

"They're referring to the Crystal Empire," Soarin' explained. "It's a kingdom of special crystal ponies who surfaced from a suspended animation spell a few years ago. Some types of crystalline diamonds are important for sustaining the magic contained in their most treasured possession: the Crystal Heart."

"And acquiring some of these rare jewels would ensure that the Crystal Imperialists survive the harsh conditions of the Frozen North for generations to come!" Fancy Pants exclaimed. "That's one reason why opening trade with the diamond dogs is so important!"

Blueblood proudly stood tall, holding a hoof over his chest. "I happen to be one-tenth crystal pony on my mother's side. That leaves me with just enough magic to examine the crystal diamonds up close and determine whether or not they're viable for channeling the magic of the Empire's Crystal Heart!"

Flash whistled. "These crystal pony dudes must be super serious for you to go out on a limb for them like this."

"It will mean a lot to Equestria," Captain Typhoon suddenly said, calmly strolling up to the group of stallions. "Up until now, the Crystal Empire has functioned simply as a trusted neighbor. They need something to secure their alliance fully with Canterlot. With the acquisition of these... crystalline jewels... they will gain more strength then they've ever had in centuries. It is expected that they will finally join the Equestria Union in full capacity, and the Stewards who have been governing their land can officially transfer power to a democratic cabinet."

"Stewards?" Flash blinked.

"My distant cousin!" Blueblood smiled. "Princess Mi Amore Cadenza!" He yawned. "Oh... and that brutish meathead she eloped with. Him too, I suppose."

"Cadenza..." Flash tongued the inside of his muzzle. "Cadenza..."

"Anyways..." Soarin' kept near Canterloy as he hovered around the group. "Maybe now you can see why the Midnight Oil's mission is so important... and why Celestia sanctioned the Wonderbolts to provide escort."

"Yeah. Totally." Flash nodded. "Sounds super cereal."

Canterloy's brow furrowed. "'Super cereal?'"

"Never mind him, my treasured nephew," Blueblood said. "Peasant talk."

"Understood, Uncle Blue."

Flash was rubbing his head. "Soooooo... these crystal ponies..." He looked up at Soarin'. "Are they... like... literally made of crystal?"

Soarin' chuckled. "You've been sleeping under some rock, haven't you?"

"Only the biggest and dumbest. So let me guess..." Flash smirked stupidly. "When they got acne during puberty... they just grabbed a dishrag and rubbed some window cleaner over their faces?"

Soarin' snorted and broke out laughing.

Flash and Fancy Pants chuckled as well.

Captain Typhoon rolled his eyes and resumed his patrol of the ship.

Soarin'

"Where'd you say you were from again, Brad?" Soarin' asked, adjusting his goggles over his head.

Flash Sentry stood casually against the port side railing of the Midnight Oil. After mulling a bit over an answer, he eventually shrugged and said, "Far far away. Like..." He looked up. "Too far to get there and back easily by wing."

"Huh..." Soarin' rubbed his chin in thought. He kept an eye on Blueblood and Canterloy from a distance. "You must be from across the ocean. And here I thought most equines from overseas had accents. Like those from Trottingham or Saddle Arabia."

Flash smirked. "Sorry to disappoint you."

"No big dealio," Soarin' said, stifling a yawn. "You don't have to divulge anything. I'm not meaning to pry."

"I didn't think you were."

"Nice to hear you made a stop by Ponyville," Soarin' said with a genuine smile. "Lots of swell ponies come from that part of Equestria."

"Judging by the name, I would hope so."

"Heheheh."

Flash tapped the headphones around his neck. "I gotta go back there eventually. These belong to somepony special."

"It's a long, long flight at this point," Soarin' said. "Even for a Wonderbolt."

"Oh, I figured. So long as I wasn't bothering anybody, I figured I would hang out... y'know?" Flash stared at the mountains drifting below the ship. "Fancy Pants has a cool operation going on here. I'd like to see how he manages to make friends with these 'Diamond Dogs.'"

"Mmmmm... I get the feeling that it'll go just as well as it has on previous occasions."

"Oh?" Flash looked over. "How's that?"

"Horribly," Soarin' muttered.

Flash's ears drooped. "He's been that unlucky, huh?"

"Last time they breezed by these parts, they didn't have the Wonderbolts to escort them," Soarin' explained. "Fancy Pants' ship came back to dock in Canterlot with several holes punched in its hull."

"Whoah..." Flash grimaced. "So you dudes do go to blows..."

"Huh?" Soarin' looked over.

Flash coughed and spoke: "Well, with you Wonderbolt guys and gals around to help out, maybe things will go smoothely."

"Captain Typhoon doesn't seem to think so," Soarin' said.

"Is that a bad sign?"

"Let's just say that if Typhoon is seeing cloudy weather, then it's probably best to go into hiding."

"But we're doing the opposite of that," Flash said, gesturing westward. "We're cruising straight into the canine skies."

"Yup."

Flash smirked. "Sounds adventurous. Should be super exciting!"

Soarin' looked at him... then eventually smiled. "Yeah. Sure, Brad. I like your attitude."

Flash chuckled. "I try."

"Well, this sure beats doing paperwork back at the Academy, anyway," Soarin' said, hovering a bit to stretch his wings. "Also, it's been a while since I had to practice my combat skills... not that I want to use them against any Diamond Dogs, but still... c-could use the exercise, I suppose."

"Is that you guys are?"

"Huh?"

"The Wonderbolts," Flash asked. "Are you some sort of... military defense unit?"

Soarin' waved his fetlock from side to side. "More or less. It depends. A lot of that stuff is... pretentious mumbo jumbo. And let's face it: Equestria hasn't gone to war in nearly a thousand years. Since the Lunar Rebellion."

Flash blinked. Hard. "Wow. That's something."

"Aaaaaaaaand whenever we do face a really nasty threat, it's Princess Twilight and the Elements of Harmony that come to the rescue," Soarin' explained. "The Wonderbolts barely get the chance to intervene."

Flash felt his throat go dry. "You don't say..."

"But... uhm..." Soarin' squinted at the horizon. "...something happened to the Elements of Harmony. Like... they returned to a giant crystal tree? Or they became crystal necklaces? Well—one before the other. Or maybe they turned into Princess Twilight's crystal palace. Eugh... I can never keep track."

"You ponies sure do have a lot of 'crystal' stuff, huh?"

Soarin' giggled—in a way that only stallions of that land could afford to. "What's with the 'you ponies' bit?"

Flash winced slightly. "Erm... what I mean to say is—"

"What I wouldn't give for one day... one moment where the Wonderbolts get to save all of Equestria." Soarin' smiled proudly, flexing a forelimb. "Like old times, y'know?"

"Isn't it awesome enough to be a Wonderbolt as it is?"

Soarin's features noticeably sank.

Flash saw it. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I mean... it's just that..." Soarin' adjusted the collar of his jumpsuit, gazing blankly into the bright sunlight. "So much of it has become routine. And—I don't mean to brag—but I've been one of the top wingponies for... well... forever. It's a position that hundreds if not thousands of Equestria's best fliers would die for. And... yeah... it's super cool! But... when you do the same sort of thing every day... no matter how cool it is..." He blew out the side of his muzzle, wings limp. "...it sort of loses its pizazz, y'know?"

"Is there something else you'd rather be doing?" Flash asked.

"No. Well..." The hint of a smile tickled the edges of Soarin's blue muzzle. "I love flying. I absolutely love it. In fact... the only thing I love more than flying is teaching other ponies how to fly."

"Cool beans!" Flash smiled. "You're in the best position to do that!"

Soarin' gave him a curious look.

Flash blinked. "Well, aren't you?"

Soarin' chuckled breathily. "The best I can do in my position is yell and bark at young cadets. Muscle them into shape. Put the fear of the Goddesses into them and chisel them into Grade A Wonderbolt material."

"You... make that sound like it's a bad thing."

"Not bad... just... pmffft... abrasive," Soarin' clarified. "Spitfire enjoys doing it. Me? Not so much."

"Spitfire's your leader, right?"

Soarin' nodded. "Mmmhmm."

"I imagine she's been doing it longer than you," Flash said. "Maybe she knows some secret to enjoying it that she can share."

"Nope."

"Huh?"

"I mean..." Soarin' looked aside at the teenager. "Spitfire joined the academy five years after I had become a wingpony."

Flash did a double-take. "You mean she's been at it way less than you?"

"Uh huh."

"That's... that's whack, dude!"

Soarin' gave him a look of sincere confusion. "What do you mean?"

"Don't you deserve to be leader of the Wonderbolts with that sort of experience?"

"Ehhh..." Soarin' chuckled helplessly, waving a hoof. "Not exactly my thing."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm not leader material! Not like Spitfire' has been from the start!" Soarin' scratched the back of his neck. "Besides... I-I much rather enjoy following the lead... looking after the other wingponies and keeping everyone in line, y'know? If I was the head of the flock, I just wouldn't know how to carry myself. I wouldn't gel... and it'd affect the whole group."

Flash exhaled. "Yeah, okay. I can respect that. But still..." He winked. "I bet if push came to shove, you'd be the best Wonderbolt there ever was."

"Hah! Listen to you..." Soarin' shook his head. "Nah... I'm afraid that title would go to another pony."

"Who, Spitfire?"

"Nope." Soarin' smirked devilishly. "Rainbow Dash."

Flash's ears twitched. "... ... ...really?"

"Uh huh. A bit rough around the edges, but she's the most talented pegasus I've seen in a long... lonnnnnnnng time. Once she hones in on her teamwork skills, I know she'd make a great wingpony. Heck... even wing leader!"

"Assuming that position ever opens up anytime soon."

"Yeah, well... Spitfire's at her best when she's in control of things."

"Maybe. But I bet she depends on you a lot. Same with Rainbow Dash."

"Well, we are a team."

Flash nodded. "And a team is at its best when every member is happy, don't you think?"

Soarin' glanced aside. "What are you getting at?"

"Seems that Spitfire loves being a Wonderbolt, and Rainbow Dash has a bright future ahead of her. But what about you? What will it take to make Soarin' enthusiastic about the team again?"

"Eh... who cares about me."

Flash shrugged. "I care about you."

"Pffft. You hardly even know me, dude."

"When's knowing got anything to do with it?" Flash took a deep breath. "If there's anything I'm starting to discover about life... it's that we waste a whole lot of time waiting for the world to care about us when we should maybe start caring for it instead."

Soarin' stared at Flash contemplatively, then at the clouds dissipating overhead.

"And you know what I'm starting to learn about happiness?" Flash remarked with a calm smile. "It takes change." He gulped. "Sometimes dramatic. Even risky. Routine can just as much a poison as a blessing."

Soarin' leaned against the railing of the Midnight Oil. A soft, meditative expression crossed his muzzle, leading him to smile. "Flying lessons?"

"Hmmm?"

"I would love to give flying lessons," Soarin' confessed. "Classes. Lessons. Seminars. Only—" He turned to face Flash with the brightest grin yet. "Young foals! I wanna teach fillies and colts how to fly!"

"For real?"

"Yeah, dude."

"Hey, that's awesome!"

"Especially ones who... y'know... struggle to catch the wind under their wings," Soarin' said warmly. "It's a shame for a pegasus to live a long life and... not know what it means to be free. It's a great feeling. It's totally worth showing off."

"So, what's stopping you?" Flash asked, shrugging. "Maybe you could start teaching classes!"

"And what? Quit the Wonderbolts?"

Flash's eyes narrowed. "I never said that, dude."

"Oh..." Soarin' blushed slightly. "Right..."

"Just... find some time on the side, y'know? I'm sure Spitfire would understand."

"Ehhhh..." Soarin' fidgeted in his jumpsuit. "I hope so."

Silence, save for the wind and the distant commands shouted between Typhoon and Fancy Pants' crew.

Flash looked around thoughtfully, then glanced at Soarin'. "Would you... like to teach me some lessons?"

Soarin' gave him a double-take. "You?"

"Sure! I mean..." Flash smirked. "I'm no foal, but I promise you that I've got an elementary school level of flight knowledge." He pointed across the deck. "And I doubt you'll be teaching Prince Chuckles how to fly anytime soon."

"Heh... yeah, let's not be tossing Canterloy around anytime soon," Soarin' said. "I'd gladly give you a few lessons over that anyday."

"Well, what are we waiting for?" Flash flapped his wings, taking off from the deck. "Let 'er rip!"

"What, now?"

"Pfft! Why not?" Flash gestured. "We don't have to stray too far away from the Midnight Oil. You'll do a better job keeping an eye on the deck from up high anyway!"

Soarin' chuckled. "You're an impulsive weirdo, Brad. I dig it." He levitated beside the teenager. "That's about as pegasus as 'pegasus' gets."

"You'll have to explain that to me," Flash said.

"Heh... if you say so."

"And something else... something I'm too afraid to ask Fancy Pants or that straight-faced Captain." Flash hovered close enough to murmur so that only Soarin' could hear. "Why's that kid next in line for the throne? Couldn't his Uncle have a colt or filly of his own?"

"I know it's none of my business'n'all... but..." Soarin' looked around, then leaned in towards Flash. "The Wonderbolts and I have this running gag."

"Yeah?"

"That he's called 'Blueblood' for a reason." Soarin' winked. "Cuz there's more than just his blood that's 'blue.'"

"Pffffffft..."

"Heh heh heh!"

"Dude... I can't believe I didn't see that from a mile away!" Flash exclaimed. "You ponies have some hope yet!"

"There it is again!"

"Hahaha!"

Aerials

The air rippled from a miniature clap of thunder.

Down below, Captain Typhoon looked up... and rolled his eyes.

Up above...

"Woooo!" Soarin' came out of his windbursting dive with a dramatic twirl. He coasted to a stop just along the port edge of the dirigible, then pivoted to face his awestruck pupil. "And that is what we call the Corkscrew Clap!"

"Jeez Louise..." Flash wheezed, his ears still ringing from the noise that the acrobatic maneuver created. "You, a name like that would have a different meaning in Las Vegas."

"Huh?"

Flash shook his head. "Never mind. So... uhhhhhhh..."

"Heheheheh..." Soarin' grinned, is horse teeth glinting. "Wanna try it?"

"Exactly how advanced is that sort of airshittery?"

"Now I'm afraid to tell you," Soarin' said, folding his forelimbs with a smirk. "Suffice to say, an illustrated manual would take twelve pages to explain it."

"Uhhhhhhhhh..."

"But give it a whirl anyway!" Soarin' winked, then gestured. "You've been doing a great job following my lead so far!"

"Like Hell I have." Flash coughed. "I nearly lost my feathers the last two times I mimicked you."

"Nonsense." Soarin' chuckled good-naturedly. "You're adapting way faster than most first-year cadets!" His eyes narrowed. "Who'd you say your instructor was again?"

"Uhhhh..." Flash cleared his throat. "Derpy. Derpy Hooves."

"Hmmmmm..." Soarin' tapped his chin from where he hovered alongside the Midnight Oil. "Derpy Hooves. Derpy Hooves." His ears twitched. "For some reason, all that comes to mind is the obituaries."

"So then," Flash elevated himself. "How did you prepare for yourself again...?"

"Chest up! Wings out! Legs curled! And... just roll with gravity for the first four inversions!"

"'First four,' he says..." And Flash held his breath. Flash barreled. Flash plummeted.

There was a burst of air alright—but it was in multiple wayward directions. Before the horizon could even flip once, Flash was sprawling about in a zig-zag fashion, bellowing to the clouds.

Just before he could slam into the hull of the Midnight Oil—

"Whoah there!" Soarin' calmly caught him with one forelimb hooked out. "You hooked one of your legs out!"

"Guhhhhhhh..." Flash's eyes rolled in their sockets. "It... did that on... its own..."

"Rookie mistake." Soarin' smirked. "If I was Spitfire, I would have bit your ear off and made you fly twenty laps."

"Good thing you're not Spitfire."

"More like a good thing I hate the taste of ear."

"Heheheh..."

"Haha!"

From down below, the two could hear Canterloy heckling: "Nice aerial maneuvers, pegasus peasant! Mayhaps you could trade the gray matter inside your cranium with a pair of homing doves!"

"I don't suppose..." Flash tongued the inside of his muzzle. "...it would be improper etiquette to poop on the little booger's head?"

Soarin's reaction to that was akin to a belch. "Brad!"

Flash smirked. "I mean, we're pegasi, right? You heard the brat. We might as well be part bird anyways!"

"Shhhhhh..." Soarin' struggled to keep from laughing. Keeping a careful eye on the monarch and his uncle, he leaned in: "Every pegasus knows we're cloud trained at the age of three."

Flash blinked. "We are?"

"Hahahaha... you're a real goofball, Brad."

"I'm out of the loop, is what." Stretching his muscles, Flash flapped his wings with renewed vigor. "So let me try that again! I think I can control my third leg this time!" His eyes crossed, and he giggled helplessly. "Listen to me! Hooo boy! I sound like I'm back in middle school!"

"I... think you could use a breather."

"Dude! I almost got this!"

"You said that three failed barrel-rolls ago. You've got talent, Brad, but I think you're starting to push it."

"Awwwwwwww... well, if you say so, big guy."

"Here." Soarin' pointed towards the prow of the Midnight Oil. "Let's perch."

"Uhhhh... sure thing!"

With a flap of feathers, the two stallions descended onto the frontmost portion of the airship. They positioned themselves with grace and poise that surprised even Flash.

"Whoah! Look it!" He grinned wide. "We are perching!"

Soarin' giggled. "You're easily amused."

"Well, why shouldn't I be?" Flash winked. "We're horses with wings! What could be more awesome than that?"

"Hey... I didn't say I was not counting my blessings," Soarin' said with a smile.

"And you're a Wonderbolt!" Flash exclaimed, nudging him. "You're the wingiest, horsiest of them all."

"Mmmmmmmmm..." Soarin' looked off towards the western horizon. "Don't I know it."

Flash leaned back where he perched. "So... you gonna think it over?"

"... ... ...hmm?" Soarin's eyes darted his way. "Think what over?"

"Pursuing—y'know—a career in teaching. Flight teaching."

"The Wonderbolts need me, Brad. I'm not about to retire anytime soon." Soarin' took a deep breath. "Although... I could take over the local outreach program. We've got a Summer Flight Camp for youngsters in the work. Spitfire's got one of our lower administrators heading it, but..." He smiled warmly. "I'm thinking that maybe I could try running the program myself."

"There ya go!" Flash nodded enthusiastically. "It's a start, don't you think?"

"Mmmmmm..." Soarin' gazed off. He slicked his mane back and said, "Y'know... it's funny..."

"What is?"

"My whole career as a Wonderbolt." Soarin' inhaled. "It started on a dare."

"How Chris Pine of you."

"Well..." Soarin' continued thinking aloud. "Not so much a 'dare', but..." He rolled his eyes.

"What? It can't be that embarrassing."

Soarin' glared with dull eyes. "I joined to impress a mare."

"Ohhhhhhhh..." Flash nodded. "You poor bastard."

"Hahahaha... phweee..." Soarin' tucked his wings close to his sides. "We were both in Advanced Flight School. I was still on the fence about my own career. I was seriously considering a job in Cloudsdalian Weather Flying. Then one day, we attended the local Wonderbolts Airshow... and she was positively melting at the sight of them. Well... I was a teenage idiot, and my heart ached with jealousy. I went to apply for the tryouts to enter Wonderbolt Academy... only because I wanted to steal some of that thunder. Lo and behold, little did I know that I was actually friggin' good at high speed aerial mastery. They practically begged me to go through cadet training. I did... aaaaaaaand... heheheh..." Soarin' covered his face.

Flash craned his neck. "Yeah...?"

"Mrffhmm..." One of Soarin's eyes peeked out from under his fetlock. "...being at the Academy is what ended up drawing us apart. Turns out she had her heart set on another stallion the other time."

"Strung you like a kite, huh?"

"And I was too dumb to realize it. She dumped me in a letter right before I graduated." Soarin' gulped. "Looking back... I try to tell myself that—had I not joined the Wonderbolts—I would have been absolutely miserable with a controlling, dishonest mare like her. And yet..." He sighed. "It doesn't change the fact that—for years—I felt guilty and remorseful for the whole thing... as if it was somehow all my fault. And yet... I did land myself one of the coolest jobs in all of Equestria. Not to mention celebrity status."

"Eh..." Flash waved a hoof. "She probably went on to marry a fat albatross."

"Hahahaha—heck if I know. I don't care. Not really."

"Yeah. Bet you wish your heart could tell you that."

Soarin' sighed melodically. "Yeah..."

"Kinda lame," Flash muttered, pawing the wooden finish of the hull beneath him. "That is... how guys like us can let a sweet girl make us feel miserable over nothing... especially when she didn't mean it."

"Oh, I'm pretty sure she meant it," Soarin' muttered, chuckling bitterly. "I had a good long talk with some of her friends after the matter and—" He stopped in mid-sentence, giving Flash a blank look. "Oh. Shoot. You were talking about yourself, dude. My bad."

"Huh? Oh... no, don't mind me. Just rambling."

"Nah, go on." Soarin' smiled gently. "Lemme guess... you had an fine airship sail through your skies long before this one, huh?"

Flash took a deep breath. "You said you started your whole career over this one mare?"

Soarin' rubbed the back of his neck. "Kinda... heh... yeah. I know it's not very flattering... but it's more or less the truth."

"I... think I... I just made a big leap too," Flash murmured, his ears drooping. "At least... it sorta feels like a leap. I haven't... really stopped to think about it... or just haven't stopped at all... and..." His lip quivered. He stared numbly at the clouds, mountains, and confusion shifting all around him beneath a bright noonday sun. He was a bird horse perched on a flying airship en route to negotiate with sapiant dog creatures over crystalline crystals for crystal ponies. "...I'm afraid to stop it before it gets anywhere. Call me a coward... but I don't want this change to end. I just... feel too alive... almost as if it's the first time I've ever dreamt of anything... and I don't like what I might have to wake up to."

Silence.

"Brad?" Soarin' looked at him warmly. He placed a hoof on his shoulder. "This place you're from... this place that's far, far away..." He arched an eyebrow. "Are there ponies there who would be worried about you?"

Flash bit his lip.

But just as he began to shiver...

...a voice shouted from the deck of the Midnight Oil.

"Airship sighted!"

"Forty-five degrees from Port!"

"Due south!"

Flash and Soarin' turned to look.

An airship was flying towards them. It was considerably smaller than the Midnight Oil, and it was accompanied by several winged figures clad in blue.

"Ah! The rendezvous!" Soarin' said, stretching his wings. "Fancy Pants' business partner is here."

"Heh..." Flash nodded. "Better get your tail moving before Spitfire bites it off."

"Don't need to remind me twice." Soarin' smirked briefly... before patting Flash's shoulder. "Let's chat later, okay?"

Flash gulped as the stallion flew off. "'Kay..."

Cargo

"All hooves!" Captain Typhoon hollered to the crew on board the Midnight Oil. "Bring her in slowly! Prepare to dock!"

The hull of the other transport drifted gradually closer. Flash could already see a small smattering of ponies working at the vessel's various stations. The rear half of the deck was full of wooden crates—supplies of some sort.

Fancy Pants' voice broke the air. "Ah! I see he's come bringing a hearty bounty!"

"Well, I would most certainly hope so!" Prince Blueblood exclaimed. "The fastest way to these brutes' heads is through their stomachs!"

"That's one way of putting it, your Eminence, but I shudder to pronounce it so... bluntly in the presence of our future business partners."

"Oh come now, Mr. Pants. You know as well as I do that this will come down to a veritable scratching of their ears more than anything else."

"That may be so, dear Prince. Nevertheless, I implore you to let myself and our partner do the talking once we arrive at the coordinates."

"Hrmmffff..."

Flash's attention was stolen by the Wonderbolts as they flew in and hovered alongside the two docking vessels. Spitfire levitated beside Soarin', her jumpsuit damp with sweat from a full day of flying.

"They were weighted down by their cargo," Spitfire said, her voice as raspy as ever. "They had to sacrifice space for extra cargo."

"Is that why they were so late in arriving?"

Spitfire growled, "Well, it certainly wasn't because we were so slow in escorting them!"

"Erm... I-I didn't mean to suggest—"

"Just keep your eyes on the transfer and make sure no ponies fall overboard."

"Y-Yes, Spitfire."

Flash bit his tongue. Turning, he focused on the two separate hulls of the ships as they drifted closer together. An elaborate plank mechanism unfolded, stretched out, and made contact with the smaller of the two vessels. Crew ponies on both sides fashioned the platform, steadying it. Within a minute, a stallion in a necktie trotted onto the Midnight Oil. There was something familiar about his coat and complexion. Once he began speaking, Flash instantly recognized who the voice belonged to.

"So terribly sorry for the delay in our revival, Mr. Pants... Your Highness." Filthy Rich bowed low. "Acquiring the... erm... treats took a tad bit longer than I had expected. After all, the mares responsible for preparing them have been detained at the last second. Business with the Princess of Friendship. You know how it is."

"Mmmm... indubitably." Fancy Pants trotted up and shook hooves with the other businessstallion. "Those six are simply trying to keep Equestria a safer place. Now, it's our turn."

"One step at a time." Filthy Rich winked. "I reckon."

Canterloy trotted up, squinting at the newcomer. "Uncle Blue? His mane's not nearly as gray as you said—"

"Ahem!" Prince Blueblood shoved Canterloy away—perhaps because he was the only pony on board the Midnight Oil who could afford to do so. "Happy tidings, Mr. Rich. I trust you brought the silver bullets!"

"'Silver bullets' is... such a crude term, Your Highness."

"We're dealing with a crude people."

"Manners before money, good Prince," Filthy Rich said, waving a hoof. "That's what my father always said. As far as I'm concerned, these swarthy canines are our new clients! And I intend for us to treat them with the same respect as I would give to any customer of Barnyard Bargains!"

"Indeed." Fancy Pants nodded. "A most welcoming challenge! I'm quite glad to have you on board, Mr. Rich!"

"And I'm glad to be on board." Filthy turned towards the ship's captain. "Captain Typhoon. Permission to hoof over our bounty?"

"Permission granted, sir." Captain Typhoon gestured towards several of the crew ponies. "Move! I want all of those crates brought down into the Midnight Oil's hold! On the double!"

"Aye, sir!" And several ponies galloped into action.

At this point, Filthy Rich had turned about to survey the airship. In so doing, he caught sight of Flash Sentry. His eyes blinked. "Brad?" He grinned, trotting over briskly. "Mr. Brad? Bleach my bit-bag! Is that you?"

Flash smiled awkwardly. "Good afternoon."

Soarin' did a double-take from where he hovered up above. "Brad? You know Filthy Rich?"

"Uhhhhhhh..." Flash glanced up at him as he reached a hoof forward to shake hooves with the stallion in question. "He prefers just 'Mr. Rich,' actually."

"I prefer the company of kind-hearted ponies!" Filthy Rich grinned wide as he shook Flash's fetlock. "And it looks as though I've gotten my wish in spades!" He chuckled. "I do hope you brought that guitar of yours!"

"Actually, that was Bon Bon's guitar, if I recall," Flash said. "And... eheh..." He shook the headphones still hooked around his neck. "I've got enough things as it is to bring back to Ponyville."

"What in Celestia's name are you doing all the way out here?" Filthy Rich raised an eyebrow. "Not that I mind, but this is quite the unexpected turn."

"I guess I could say the same about you," Flash said. "Guess I'm just about to find out."

"Well, that's just mighty fine!" Filthy turned to look at Fancy Pants. "You've got yourself some fantastic company, Fancy Pants. If there was ever a need for a good luck charm—"

"Way ahead of you, good chap," Fancy Pants remarked. "Brad here is the sole reason why Blueblood's royal nephew is still breathing."

"Quite true," Blueblood remarked, nose tilted up.

"I beg your pardon?" Filthy Rich blinked.

"It's a long story," Flash stammered.

"But an awesome one!" Soarin' exclaimed, grinning. "I'm sure he wouldn't mind sharing it. Right, Brad?"

Before anyone—much less Flash—could open their muzzle—

"No offense, gentlecolts, but we're waaaaaay behind schedule," Spitfire said, brushing past Soarin' as she overshadowed the crew. "We've got a bunch of cargo to move, and then a destination to reach! I don't know how impatient canines get, but I don't aim to find out! What about you?"

"The Wonderbolts' leader is right." Captain Typhoon turned about. "With your permission, Mr. Pants. We'll be underway swiftly."

"By all means." Fancy Pants gestured. "You may oversee the transfer."

"With expediency, sir."

Filthy

Filthy Rich and Flash Sentry leaned against the railing of the Midnight Oil's bow, watching from a distance as Captain Typhoon's crew carried the last of the large wooden crates over, stashing the cargo away in the airship's hold.

"So, let me get this straight." Filthy Rich adjusted his tie, squinting into the distance as he thought aloud: "You were simply out for a midnight stroll... flying for the sake of flying..."

"Well, it was my first night flying," Flash said with a bashful grin.

"That I'm still trying to wrap my head around," Filthy said, smirking. "Anyways... you were out flying... no rhyme or reason... got lost in the moment... fell asleep..." He looked over at the teenager. "And then—when you woke up—you instantly saw Prince Blueblood's nephew in free-fall and flew to the rescue?"

Flash shrugged. "Seemed like the only respectable thing to do."

"No doubt. But—talk about good fortune!" Filthy Rich slicked the bangs of his mane back, smiling. "I knew there was something about you that screamed 'good providence,' but this takes the cake! Why... if I was a noble in the House of Blue, I'd erect a monument to you in the royal gardens!"

"Why does everypony keep saying that?" Flash exhaled, although the tips of his feathers tingled at the notion. "It all came down to luck. Seriously."

"Hah! Luck and a good neighborly spirit, my boy!" Filthy Rich patted Flash's shoulder. "You deserve more credit than you give yourself! The fact is—you're instrumental in Little Lord Canterloy's livelihood! That will go a long way in the future!"

"I'm just surprised I woke up in time to hear him screaming in free fall," Flash said. "I was in a deep sleep. Dreaming, in fact."

"Dreaming?"

"Yes, I..." Flash suddenly winced, his eyes twitching—as if stabbed by the magical glint of a full moon somewhere. "Erm... funny..."

"What's that, good sir?"

"It... it's..." Flash gulped, shivering slightly. "Nothing. Just... a funny feeling."

Filthy squinted curiously at him. He eventually shook it off. "No matter! It's a real blessing seeing you on board! I wouldn't tell Fancy Pants or Prince Blueblood this, but I've been wrestling with a heap of anxiety over this business exchange for months now. Only the last twelve hours or so have I started to feel a tad less stressed. I like to credit you and your relaxing music at Bon Bon's yesterday; it put me in a real peaceful mood. Now that I see you on board—I feel as if a spirit of good luck is shining on this whole mission!"

"All of this for a bunch of... 'crystalline diamonds?'" Flash's muzzle scrunched. "Am I the only one confused by the whole thing?"

"Heheheh..." Filthy chuckled, straightening his tie again. "I wouldn't put too much stock in what the Empire's getting out of this. Only those Norther ponies can tell the difference between 'crystal this' and 'crystal that.'" He smirked. "Mr. Pants and Prince Blueblood might be obsessed with the Empire joining the Equestrian Union, but I'm far more interested in making peace with the diamond dogs."

"It must be a really huge deal."

"Whew!" Filthy Rich whistled. "Boy, let me tell you! For generations, they've been a thorn in the side of Central Equestrian citizens! But if we could just make peace with them and bring all of this distrust and strife to an end—well—that means a brand new age of trade, commerce, and prosperity!"

"And you want to be the first pioneer of this... 'age?'"

"It's in my blood, Brad," Filthy Rich said. "I smell an opportunity. And every business venture that my family has partaken in has involved the betterment of Central Equestria. My father and grandfather helped the Apples found Ponyville. Tomorrow? Who knows! My daughter just might spearhead an age of equine and canine coexistence!"

Flash chuckled. "That's putting an awful lot of weight on her, don't you think?"

"Yes, well..." Filthy Rich rolled his eyes. "Somehow, I feel that she'll grow out of her infantile desire to be a princess."

"Good luck with that." Flash turned to look at the last of the crates being hauled over onto the Midnight Oil. "So... these 'silver bullets'..."

"Bah!" Filthy scoffed. "I'm glad to have Blueblood along for this trip, but I'd much rather he leave his haughty attitude behind in Canterlot."

"What... exactly are you bringing to the negotiations?"

Filthy Rich grinned wide. "Pies!"

A voice up above sputtered. "P-pies?!"

Filthy and Flash looked up.

Soarin' stared down with beady eyes behind his goggles.

"I'm afraid they're essence of dog biscuits, Mr. Wonderbolt," Filthy explained. "Tasty to a pet of yours, perhaps, but not to ponykind."

"Oh..." Soarin's ears instantly sagged.

"Soarin'!" Spitfire hollered from a distance. "You're lagging behind! Pick up the slack!"

"Er... r-right, Spitfire!" Soarin' zoomed ahead, circling the two ships along with his wingmates.

Filthy turned to face Flash again. "It was Fluttershy's suggestion."

"Fluttershy?" Flash repeated, ears perking up.

"Yes. The local animal caretaker back in Ponyville," Filthy explained.

Flash smiled softly. "You don't say..."

"She thought that an edible delight might pacify the spirits of our potential future business partners," Filthy said. "Pinkie Pie and Applejack—other dear souls—worked with her in making the perfect recipe. They planned to have a baked bounty prepared for this week, but... alas... last-second duty called, and all of Princess Twilight's friends had to make themselves scarce."

"Yeesh. That must have sucked."

"Admittedly..." Filthy adjusted his collar as a bead of sweat or two formed. "It was quite stressful. But I got some help from a traveling troupe of freelance bakers out of Fillydelphia at the last second. They were able to finish the job and—voila! Here I am!"

Flash giggled.

"Something amusing?"

"Traveling troupe of freelance bakers,'" Flash exhaled. "Whew... I love it here."

"You ought to tell me more about the land you come from, Brad!" Filthy said. "I'm sure it's quite lovely there too!"

Flash cut him off at the curb. "So... we're setting off for dog-town soon?"

"Seems like it!" Filthy stood up straight, turning about to face the rest of the crew. "Just as soon as Fancy Pants' esteemed Captain Typhoon gives the signal."

"You excited?" Flash asked.

"Most definitely!" Filthy winked aside. "Are you?"

Flash gave an honest smile. "I'm the most excited I've ever been in my life."

"Heheheh... somehow... I'm tempted to believe you, Brad..."

Onwards

The Midnight Oil and it smaller sister ship parted ways. Captain Typhoon's crew was kind enough to supply the other vessel with some extra rations, and after everything had been checked out, the tiny transport made its way east, traveling at a brisk pace. Flash watched it for several minutes... when suddenly it appeared to pick up even more speed. He soon discovered that the Midnight Oil was moving away from it, heading due west towards the location of the negotiations.

"What exactly are we going to find there?" Flash asked of Fancy Pants.

"Oh... to be quite honest... I'm not one hundred percent certain," the unicorn stated, polishing the lens of his monocle.

"You mean you don't know what the home of these 'diamond dogs' looks like?"

"Well, we do know the location," Fancy Pants explained. "But the architecture—if there is any—has sadly not been described to us." He looked over. "From previous communications, Prince Blueblood and I have been informed that the Diamond Dogs' central home is situated within the hollow of a tall, flat plateau. 'High Paw,' I do believe is the name of it."

Flash Sentry giggled.

Fancy Pants smirked. "Something the matter?"

"Ahem. No." Flash waved a hoof "Please... go on."

"I'm afraid there isn't much more to tell you. We've spoken at length with the representatives of their—how should I put it—canine council."

"Is it literally called that?"

"I don't know, my good chap, but I suppose it should be."

"Heheh..."

Fancy Pants continued: "But most of that time was spent discussing the politics and the philosophy of their culture, so that we could better ascertain their needs and wants—so that we may supply such and bring us to a new level of peace and coexistence."

Flash leaned against the railing of the ship. "And just what have you learned?"

"Well, they have extreme respect for the earth," Fancy Pants said. "They live in packs—albeit they're mining packs as opposed to hunting packs. They function more like gophers than wolves, I suppose."

"Uh huh..."

"They live extensively underground—which I suppose is a given—and they take great pride in their ability to excavate unfathomably large caverns within which to live and hoarde their collection of jewels. They value wealth in quantity more so than quality. The hound with the most jewels to show off is considered the wisest, healthiest, most virile... etc."

"Makes sense, I suppose."

Done polishing his monocle, Fancy Pants placed the article over his eye and squinted towards the horizon in front of them. "More than anything, they desire land. And lots of it. What's on the surface of the land is not important. They simply desire plenty of subterranean space for carving out bigger and more complex dens. The diamond dogs are remarkably expansive. Ponykind simply doesn't notice because the canines dwell underground most of the time. For all we know, they might have burrowed colonies underneath Manehattan Harbor—or the mountains of Canterlot!"

"So... what's been the big deal?"

"I beg your pardon?"

Flash shrugged. "If ponies live above ground and Diamond Dogs live mostly underground... what's the reason for so much... I dunno... non-peaceful stuff between both cultures in the past?"

"Well, both cultures have completely contrasting views on the nature of property and ownership."

"Ah."

"These canines believe that jewels—all jewels that exist everywhere—belong to them naturally. By default. Thus, when Equestrian society utilizes the gemstones that we have found as a means of wealth and currency... I-I suppose it rubs them the wrong way, so to speak. No doubt the oldest canine ancestors felt that they were being robbed by the equines who dwelled on the surface."

"And after countless generations of stewing over that, the current population of diamond dogs must not care for ponies too much."

"Sadly, no. Most interactions between diamond dogs and ponykind have yielded... unpleasant results. The canines think that ponies are greedy and invasive. And—let's be honest—most of us have a great deal of difficulty fathoming how a canine creature can be civilized and sapient."

Flash smiled. "How would you feel if you ran into a tall, hairless, talking monkey?"

Fancy Pants did a double-take. "What on earth is that supposed to mean?"

Flash chuckled and shook his head. "Forget that I said anything."

"I'm afraid I will have great difficulty ignoring your curious non sequiturs, Mr. Brad." Fancy Pants smiled. "You are as cryptic as you are surprising. For instance—why didn't you tell me that you knew Mr. Rich?"

"I didn't know I would have a reason to tell you," Flash said. "When I first met him, I heard he was needing to go somewhere—but I didn't know it meant having to rendezvous with you and Blueblood."

"Well, you were already fine in my book. Seeing that you've made a positive impression on him is absolutely smashing! We could use more ponies like you, Mr. Brad."

Flash nodded. When he next spoke, only he could hear the soft words. "And we could just use ponies. Period."

Dreamly

"Does it... uh... does it bother anypony?" Flash Sentry asked.

Soarin' looked behind him. "Does what bother anypony?"

In mid-flight, Flash gestured at the hull of the Midnight Oil cruising beneath them. The teenager had joined Soarin' and the other Wonderbolts in the easy westward glide, escorting the air vessel. "I kinda figured that airships would... y'know... fly faster."

Soarin' couldn't help but chuckle. He smirked at the horizon ahead of them. "We're not exactly in any hurry."

"Not even to negotiate everlasting peace with a bunch of underground canines?" Flash blinked. "I thought dogs lived only seven years. Wouldn't they want us to hurry things up?"

"These aren't your typical dogs. And this isn't your typical airship." Soarin' gestured in midair. "This is a royal frigate carrying thousands of pounds of trades and goods."

"Is it seriously all pies?"

Soarin' nearly drooled. "Celestia, if only."

"Huh?"

"Ahem." Soarin' shook his head. "A lot of it—from what I understand—are steel plated digging tools. Fillydelphia built."

"Heh... no kidding."

"According to Fancy Pants' connections in the social sciences, diamond dogs lack the technology to make steel. They're all stuck using granite, iron, copper... y'know..." Soarin' shrugged. "Lame metals."

"Do you think they'll settle for stuff that isn't canine-made?"

"I dunno."

"... ... ...do you even give a flying fart?"

"Hahaha...!" Soarin' smiled back at Flash. "Let me put it this way: I would be happy if Fancy Pants and Prince Blueblood get their investment's worth out of this whole venture. I think their swell ponies and I wish them the best."

"That's cool."

"However... do I actually believe that they'll be successful in these negotiations?" Soarin' squirmed, giving a half-hearted attempt at a shrug. "I've occasionally had to come to blows with nasty-nasties here in the Equestrian wilderness."

"All part of being a Wonderbolt, eh?"

"Sometimes," Soarin' said. "And if there's anything I've learned from non-hoofed creatures is that a lot of them are... pretty dang thick-headed. But... so long as we keep to ourselves and they mind their own business, we've never really had any reason to bother each other."

"But don't you think it'd be cool if ponies and non-ponies were friends?" Flash bit his lip, gazing down at the distant shadow that the Midnight Oil was making. "Perhaps... even something more?"

"Well, sure. Friendship is always awesome," Soarin' said. "I just... don't know how it's going to work with these diamond dogs. We've never really had that sort of a relationship with sapient non-equines before." He tongued the inside of his muzzle. "There are the Breezies, but I recall some of our top scientists claiming that they're somehow related to ponies on some basic level. Then there are minotaurs. They're cool. A bit loopy and in-your-face, but there aren't a whole lot of them to contend with. Plus, they've got hooves."

"Is that how you measure friendliness and compatibility?" Flash smiled. "If the creature's 'got hooves?'"

"Tends to work in my book. Oh... uhm... but not always, though." Soarin' suppressed a heavy sigh. "Take Tirek for example. Reallllllllllllly bad dude. He had hooves; didn't make him any less of a butthead."

"Oh yeah?"

"Nearly took over Equestria after he sucked all the magic out of our bodies. Super scary. I couldn't fly for a few days after his attack."

"Bummer."

"But it's okay now. Twilight Sparkle and the rest of her friends banished him back to Tartarus."

"No shit?!" Flash did a double-take. "There's an actual Honest-to-God Tartarus in Equestria?"

"Uhhhhhhhhhhhhh... yeah? Why shouldn't there be?"

"Does Gal Gadot or Lynda Carter hang out there?"

"Who?"

Flash Sentry simply giggled. "N-never mind..."

"I swear... I hardly understand you half the time, Brad."

"Does it matter?"

"Nah." Soarin' suppressed a yawn, keeping an eye on the Midnight Oil and his fellow Wonderbolts. "Not really."

"Good to know that we've got ponies like Twilight and you keeping Equestria safe."

"Heh... honestly, you give the Wonderbolts too much credit," Soarin' said with a sigh. "I mean, I'm proud to serve the interests of Equestria, but between Tartarus, the Royal Guard, and the Princesses themselves—the Wonderbolts are almost only good for performing air shows in this day and age."

"Uh huh."

"Which is friggin' awesome by the way!" Soarin' proclaimed with a big-toothed grin. "Seriously, dude, you gotta come watch us perform sometime after this trip is over!"

"Heheheh... well, with a glowing endorsement like that, how can I refuse?"

"I'll even hook you up with some front row seats," Soarin' added with a wink. "Free of charge."

"Cool and cooler," Flash said. After a few seconds, he breathed... then asked, "So the Princesses protect Equestria, huh?"

"Mmmmmhmmmm." Soarin' nodded. "Without them, we wouldn't have the revolutions of the Sun and Moon."

Flash opened his muzzle... hesitated... then eventually murmured, "So... Princess Luna. She protects Equestria too, huh?"

"Oh. Without a doubt. I mean... eh..." Soarin' shrugged in mid-glide. "She's... had her ups and downs... but she's totally cool these days."

"And she's—like—the patron saint of dreams and stuff?"

"Huh?"

"She looks after ponies when they're asleep?"

Soarin' chuckled, glancing back at his travel buddy. "I'm thinking Luna isn't the only one who's been missing for a thousand years."

"Sorry."

"Nah, it's cool. Kinda feels refreshing to explain it all in elementary terms, actually," Soarin' said. "She can Dreamwalk n'stuff. I'm... not one hundred percent certain how it works, but she can see into our dreams... even visit us and help us—like—get in touch with our inner selves or whatnot. There are lots of ancient stories written about it. Legendary literature—I'm sure you've read a few, but just forget."

"Ancient, huh?"

"Well, pre-Exile."

"Has she..." Flash fidgeted in mid-air. "...ever visited you?"

Soarin' flashed the teenager a look.

Flash blinked. "No?"

"Er... well... uh uh." Soarin' shook his head. "That would be like being struck by lightning, dude." He looked ahead to mind the horizo once more. "Although..." A smile crept across his blue face. "Rainbow Dash says that she's communed with Luna in the dreamscape."

"Oh yeah?"

"You bet! Along with Princess Twilight and all of her friends. Rainbow totally bragged about it." Soarin's eyes narrowed. "Something to do with... helping Luna deal with a nasty nightmare of her own that was threatening Ponyville. Yeesh... I've no clue how that went down... only that Luna was cured. I'm surprised you don't know about it."

"Huh..."

"Honestly, I wouldn't know what to do if Luna visited me. Heh... I'd be put on the spot. I doubt she'd like my dreams, anyways. They're too... boring and stale."

"It's kinda freaky, actually," Flash muttered. "But in a nifty way, kinda."

Soarin's brow furrowed as he turned to look at him again. "You say that as if you've been visited by her in a dreamwalk before."

"That's because I was."

"Oh yeah? When."

"Erm... last night?"

Soarin's wings almost gave out. Catching the wind, he evened out and found the strength to wheeze: "Princess Luna visited you in a dream just last night?!"

"Uh huh..."

"Like... get out of town, dude!" Soarin' gazed at him in wonderment. "What did she say?"

"That... she sensed that I had something important to do in Equestria... something for other ponies."

"No kidding..." Soarin' gulped. "What happened next?"

"I... heard a screaming noise and woke up. First thing I knew, Blueblood's nephew was falling down past me. I flew into action and... well... you know the rest."

"... ... ...and this all happened after you met Luna in a dream?"

"Is... that normal?"

"Dude, I don't even know what to tell you. But... heheh..." Soarin' managed a smirk. "That's pretty rad, don't you think? It's almost like she predicted that you would save the Blue Family's heir!"

"Or... like..." Flash bit his lip. "...what if she meant something else?" He looked directly at Soarin'. "What if I still haven't done what she was talking about?"

Before Soarin' could respond—

"Location confirmed!" Spitfire's voice rasped from far ahead. Flash could see her amber figure streaking back towards the bow of the Midnight Oil. "Captain Typhoon! Alert Mr. Pants and Prince Blueblood! We have found the location of High Paw!"

"Aye!" Typhoon turned and shouted towards his crew. "All hooves! Slow the engines! Prepare our descent!"

"H-hey... finally!" Soarin' exhaled through a smile. "For a moment there, I was gonna start laughing about it."

Crunch

Prince Blueblood craned his neck. "... ... ...do they see anything yet?"

"Give them a moment, Your Eminence," Fancy Pants insisted.

Prince Blueblood craned his neck in the other direction. He leaned closer and closer towards the edge of the Midnight Oil's bow, scouring the edge of the immense plateau below with is regal eyes. "How about now? Any sign?"

"They are still searching," Fancy Pants said, watching the Wonderbolts from afar.

A tense breath shot through Blueblood. His cheeks puffed as he tightened his hooves against the top deck and spat, "Well, if they're not there, then they've sorely neglected their promised obligations—!"

"Have some patience, Your Royal Fussiness! Land's sakes!" Filthy Rich grumbled.

"I beg your pardon...?!" Blueblood gasped. "Do you even know who you're talking to?"

Fancy Pants was chuckling up a storm. "I'm quite certain he does, good chap."

"Our contacts in the pack will appear when they are ready," Filthy insisted.

"Mrmmmffff..." Prince Blueblood folded his forelimbs with a pout. "Even non-citizen ponies know a thing or two about punctuality."

"We did get here awfully slow," Fancy Pants suggested.

"Only because we're carrying hundreds of thousands of pounds of Mr. Rich's offerings!"

"I don't even think there are that many pies in the world, Your Majesty," Filthy Rich said.

"You know what I mean!"

There was a light pitter-patter of hooves. Canterloy poked his head out from behind Blueblood's fetlocks. "Are the dogs here or are they not?"

Blueblood instantly barked at the youngster. "Back below deck with you!"

"But Uncle Blue! You promised that I could see them—"

"First we have to see them without spears! Now go! Leave from hence!"

"Grnnnnghh..." Canterloy shuffled back below deck in a surly gait. "I swear! I'm only here for background noise!"

Flash Sentry observed this from where he hovered between the gondola and the dirigibles. The atmosphere of the Midnight Oil felt noticeably stale without the presence and voice of Soarin', he felt. In truth, he greatly admired the likes of Fancy Pants and Filthy Rich, but something about their polite and pretentious airs made them a great deal more... distant. At that very moment, Soarin' was also distant—albeit in the literal sense. From afar, Flash could see him, Spitfire, and the rest of their fellow Wonderbolts circling the upper heights of High Paw, presumably searching for canine dwellers in a daring attempt to make contact.

Equestria was a bright and fuzzy world with bright and fuzzy things. Nevertheless, Flash would have been lying if he said that he didn't feel a tiny ounce of concern.

So, feeling bold, Flash hovered lower until he was at deck-level. He drifted sideways until he was within murmuring distance of Captain Typhoon, the senior officer of the Midnight Oil. "So... like... if the diamond dogs of High Paw turn out to be super hostile, we'll know about it immediately... right?"

Typhoon blinked, then pivoted ever so slightly to give Flash a pointed glare.

Flash smiled nervously. "I am allowed to talk to you, right?"

"Ahem..." Composing himself, the Captain returned his gaze to the plateau below. "The Wonderbolts are a resourceful bunch. No doubt, if trouble shows its head, they'll be quick to make a hasty retreat with their full bodies in check. You needn't be so worried about the wingpony with whom you've formed an evident camaraderie."

Flash's ears twitched. "Really? We're evident?"

"One should choose to be more concerned about the potential for this entire operation being a complete waste of time and bits," Typhoon droned. "If the fickle canines choose to be completely and unrepentedly against negotiations, then I shudder to think of the sheer cost it will be to Fancy Pants' career."

"You care a lot for your employer, don't you?" Flash asked.

Typhoon looked at him pointedly. "Pardon?"

"I dunno. It just seemed..." Flash shrugged with a tiny smile. "...evident."

Typhoon's eyes narrowed. "Perhaps—being in possession of wings as you are—you could go assist the Wonderbolts."

"Whoah, really?" Flash blinked. "You serious? I mean... I-I don't exactly think I'm 'negotiation' material. I'd royally mess things up with sapient bipedal canines. Hell, this one time at a comic book convention, I mistook a bunch of Homestuck cosplayers as 'Invader Zim' fans. Heh... boy that that not go over well."

Typhoon muttered: "That was my attempt at jocularity."

"Jocu—" Flash did a double-take. "Oh, you were being sarcastic!" The teenager laughed uproariously, slapping the Captain on the shoulder. "Heyyyyyyy! There's hope for you yet, dude!"

The officer's hat shifted askew, although his iron-stiff body made no attempt to register it. Just as his nostrils started to flare—

—Spitfire, Soarin', and the rest of the Wonderbolts returned with a mutual gust of wind.

"Good news!" Spitfire's raspy voice thundered. "Two of their messengers just poked their heads out. According to those smelly mutts, the leader of High Paw still wants to make contact."

"Smashing!" Fancy Pants cheered.

Filthy Rich craned his neck. "So they haven't changed their minds about the negotiations?"

Spitfire grunted. "Presuming those runts can be trusted."

"I do believe it is worth the risk, Mr. Pants," Blueblood insisted. "We've come too far to give up now."

"Hmmmmm..." Fancy Pants rubbed his chin in thought.

Flash spoke up: "Can the Wonderbolts hang around the scene and look after the negotiations?"

Spitfire threw the teenager a glare for having the audacity to speak up.

Soarin' blurted: "They made no objection to our presence. In fact..." He smiled. "It seems like they respect the show of strength."

"Is that right, Captain Spitfire?" Filthy Rich asked.

"Ahem..." Spitfire cleared her throat. "They seem okay with us. Which is good. Because we intend to watch after the party at all times. But make no mistake..." She gestured. "I've seen the spears these bozos are carrying. Mighty thick muscles on their arms. They could skewer us in mid-air from fifty feet. If we let our guards down—no matter the air superiority—they could get the upper hoof."

"Or in this case, 'paw'," Flash said.

Soarin' chuckled.

Spitfire rolled her eyes and opened her muzzle to argue—

"Well, I suggest you keep your distance at about one hundred feet," Fancy Pants insisted. "That way you'll be out of range of the estimated danger, and yet you'll still be close enough to provide emergency support with your wingmates." He looked at Captain Typhoon. "Would you agree with that strategy, dear Captain?"

Typhoon nodded. "Sounds like a good plan to me. I leave it in Captain Spitfire's court."

"Very well." Spitfire nodded. "I'll establish a perimeter along the southeast edge of High Paw. Now... the messenger canines have been made aware of the cargo we're carrying. They've given us the signal to bring the materials down."

"So..." Blueblood shifted where he stood. "...do we set the entire Midnight Oil down?"

"Not a good idea," Spitfire said. "It's too much of a risk, and we haven't an alternative way to carry the entire crew back to civilization in the event that this whole thing goes south." She gestured. "I suggest you allow my Wonderbolts to carry the supply crates down to the plateau's surface, one at a time."

Filthy Rich squinted. "Can... you do that?"

"Nothing we can't handle," Soarin' said with a smile. "Trust us. We're used to carrying even heavier loads with fewer numbers."

"Soarin'!" Spitfire barked. "Less bragging and more dragging!" She spun and pointed at the rest of the jumpsuited pegasi. "That goes for the rest of you! I want all of the ship's cargo carried down to the summit of High Paw within the hour! On the double!"

"Hey!" Flash waved his hoof as several of the uniformed ponies flew into action. "Uh... can I help?"

Spitfire looked ready to retort. Her goggled eyes reflected Soarin's innocent expression, and eventually moaned: "Ehhhhhh... fine, kid... but if we drop a single ounce of this precious dog food crap, it's on you!"

Flash saluted with a smile. "I'll try and make you proud, ma'am!"

At hearing "ma'am," Spitfire rolled her eyes and dashed off into action. "Let's open the cargo doors already! Move it! Move it! Move it!"

Flash Sentry flew up to join Soarin's side as they made for the cargo doors. "Check it! I'm helping!"

"Heheh..." Soarin' shook his head. "Easier said than done, kid."

"That's okay. I'll just... uhm... handle the lighter parts!"

"The boxes are cubicle."

"So?" Flash shrugged. "I'm too hip to be a square."

Soarin' sighed through a tired smile. "I don't know what I understand less about you... these turns of phrase or the gall it takes to interrupt Spitfire like that."

"I dunno what it is... but I suddenly feel like I can make friends with anyone!" Flash winked. "Must be something in the air of this place."

"You don't say..."

"I was just chatting it up with Typhoon a moment ago."

"For real?"

"Yeah!" Flash giggled. "Turns out that me and the Cap'n can make it happen."

"Heheheh..."

Cough

Soarin' sweated ever so slightly as he handled his corner of a large wooden crate. One wingflap at time, he and his three fellow wingponies carried a piece of the Midnight Oil's cargo down towards the surface of High Paw below.

The air filled with solid, evenly-paced breaths. Well, almost.

The weight of the crate trembled slightly.

Soarin' looked across the container in midflight. He raised an eyebrow under his cowl. "You doing okay there, buddy?"

"Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu-yeah!" Flash wheezed, flapping his wings rapidly to compensate for the massive strain on his forelimbs. His wings fluttered four times as quickly as the other three pegasi in the group. "Doing just peachy! I sw-swear it!"

"It's okay, dude." Soarin' smirked, keeping an eye on the plateau's edge as they gradually descended. "You've got this. For real—you don't have to flap your wings so hard."

"But—"

"You're overdoing it. This is a group effort, remember? Just ease up a bit. We are descending, after all."

Flash exhaled slightly. He lessened the tension in his muscles and found that it had no adverse effect on the task at hoof. "Just... d-didn't want to screw anything up."

"Nuts and bolts have nothing to do with it."

"No, I meant... ugh... fuzzy wing horses... gawd..."

"Hey, Soarin'?" One of the other pegasi rasped. "Just who is this guy, anyway?"

"Yeah. We accepting volunteer work now?" squeaked the other.

"This guy..." Soarin' smirked proudly. "...single-hoofedly saved Prince Blueblood's son from a bloody death at the bottom of a large ravine."

"Whoah, you mean this is the dude who saved Canterloy this morning?"

"That takes some slick moves!"

"Wow..." Flash wheezed, trying to relax amidst the strain. "News travels fast."

"In the air? With Wonderbolts?" Soarin' winked. "Even faster."

"You're a regular bunch of carrier pigeons."

"I'll... ... ... take that as a compliment."

"Soooooooooooooooooo..." Flash's eyes darted through a river of sweat as he looked at the other two. "...you guys really think this is going to work?"

"Hrmmfff..." One huffed. "It's not our place to question the mission."

"Why not?" the other rasped. "We're following our orders regardless!" She looked at Soarin'. "You ask me, the diamond dogs are gonna grab all this good stuff, kick the negotiators over the cliff, and make a run for it like the hounds they are!"

"Let's not give up hope, sergeant," Soarin' said. "Fancy Pants and Blueblood aren't the only ones who came a long way to this time and place. Can you imagine the amount of pride that diamond dogs had to swallow to talk trade with ponies? Much less acknowledge us?"

"Has it really been that hairy?" Flash asked. "Er... you know what I mean..."

"My Aunt and Uncle were once attacked while flying low over diamond dog territory," one of the Wonderbolts said.

"Really?" Flash asked. "Were either of them hurt?"

He fidgeted, then confessed: "Okay, so the canines only threw twigs and sand at them 'cuz they were flying too low."

Flash smiled sweatily. "Maybe canines and ponies only met each other when they just happened to be having bad days."

"Still, they do smell," the other Wonderbolt insisted. "And they eat weird stuff and talk funny and roll around in the dirt."

"So? Are you any less weird?" Flash asked. "You are a winged pastel pony after all."

The Wonderbolt opened her muzzle... fumbled... then murmured into the splintery wooden surface of the crate. "Well, I never thought of it that way before..."

"You gotta be careful with stereotypes, dude." Flash brightened. "Like! Take for instance where I come from... there are these people who like to put on bright face paint and neon hair dye and spend all day and night shouting at each other at concerts. But then, at the same time, they're super big on collecting canned food for charity'n'stuff. Helping the community one screaming match at a time!"

"Wow, that's simply amazing," one Wonderbolt purred. "And what do you call these most curious creatures?"

"Juggalos."

"That sounds fascinating."

"Er..." Flash winced ever so slightly. "Not really..."

Soarin' looked at Flash. "This place that you're from, Brad..."

"Yeah?"

"... ... ...is it really situated in Equestria, dude?"

At that, Flash bit his lip.

"Hey! Bluebutt!" a raspy voice shouted from above.

Soarin' was already taking a deep breath. "We're almost there, Spitfire! Just have to haul—"

"You and your noodly friend are holding up the line!" Spitfire hollered, flying close enough to frown at the stallion. "Either get your butt in gear or I'll box it up and carry it down to the plateau myself!"

"No need for that, Captain. I'll get it there in a jiffy, Captain."

"Make sure that you do! And less chit-chat! Move it, skunkhead!" And Spitfire was gone in a blink, soaring off to shout at another group.

Flash fumed quietly. "Is it just me, or is the first half of her name spelled wrong?"

"Ehhhhhhhh..." Soarin' shrugged as well as he could while carrying his corner of the crate. "She's alright."

"How can you say that?!" Flash stammered. "She just called you 'Bluebutt' and 'Skunkhead!'"

"You should hear the stuff she calls him at the Academy," one of the other Wonderbolts said, smirking slightly. "I try to write some of them down—they burn so hard."

"But... like... why's it gotta be like that?" Flash remarked. "It just seems so... so... lame."

"Spitfire shouts at Soarin' all the time," one Wonderbolt said.

"Because...?"

"We're all in this as a team," Soarin' said. "And I'm the second in command."

"So... shouldn't she be humiliating you less?"

"Quite the opposite," Soarin' calmly replied. "The more she barks at me, the more everypony else in the group sees that I have just as much room to improve as the rest of them."

"More like they get to see how miserable it is being a Wonderbolt closer to the top," Flash grumbled. "Not like you need that kind of shit, especially considering how you feel about being a—"

Soarin' coughed sharply.

Flash paled.

The other two Wonderbolts raised curious eyebrows.

Flash coughed himself, then put on a nervous smile. "So... uh... whew! It's a long way down to High Paw, isn't it?"

Suck

"Move it, ya lazy turkeys!" Spitfire hollered, circling above the edge of High Paw. The Midnight Oil hovered at a distance. Meanwhile, the Wonderbolts were busy depositing the last of the crates down along the top of the plateau where a few well-armed members of Typhoon's Crew had already landed. They opened the containers one by one while Spitfire continued her severe form of coaching: "We've wasted enough valuable time as it is! Are we ponies or are we mules?! No lazing about! Get those boxes open! On the double!"

Flash stood several feet away, leaning against a rock and wiping the sweat from his brow. Collectively, he and Soarin' and a few other Wonderbolts had carried a total of three crates. It was remarkable work—given the time constraints. Now, a miniature hot air balloon was slowly descending from the Midnight Oil, no doubt carrying Blueblood, Fancy Pants, and Filthy Rich. For the moment, though, Flash was too busy trying to ignore Spitfire's obnoxious raspiness—and failing.

Thankfully, it was around that time that Soarin' shuffled up and filled the air with his trademark Disney's Aladdin voice.

"Think about it this way, dude." He smirked, slipping off his cowl so he could dry the sweat lining his blue forehead. "If there's one way to convince the diamond dogs that we're a bunch of tough cookies, having Spitfire on the front line helps."

"Yeah, well..." Flash sighed. "Doesn't make her any cooler in my eyes."

"The Captain of the Wonderbolts has precisely the kind of attitude that's needed to run a squadron like ours," Soarin' said.

"Yeah... I guess so..." Flash folded his forelimbs. "Kinda explains why you're so tired of it."

"It's not that I'm tired of it." Soarin' shrugged. "I'm just less ambitious."

"Still, it's obvious you've been around a super long time."

"I can't help it," Soarin' said with a slight smile. "Spitfire needs me."

"More like she needs someone to bitch at."

"If it helps."

Flash exhaled, gazing across the plateau. "She doesn't know how lucky she is." He swallowed. "Very few of us do."

"I know how lucky she is," Soarin' said.

"And yet you're okay with all the lameness?"

Soarin' shrugged. "Could be worse."

Flash thought about that. He didn't have to think long. "Yeah..." His ears drooped as he gazed down at the sterile stone surface of High Paw. Like a bedroom drenched in gray. "Very true."

Soarin' casually shuffled over and leaned against the same rock that Flash was propped against.

All was silent—save for the gusts of wind that carried Spitfire's echoing voice.

"You know that I'm alright with it," Soarin' said.

"Hmmm?" Flash looked over. "Alright with what?"

"Wherever you're actually from."

Flash's brow furrowed. "What if I'm from a super nasty place?"

"Doesn't matter." Soarin' stifled a yawn. "You're not a super nasty pony." He managed a sly wink. "'Stereotypes,' remember? Buck 'em."

Flash chuckled slightly, but it didn't last long. "It's a really... really nasty place."

"Is that why you're here, then?"

"Hmm?"

"In Equestria?" Soarin' asked.

Flash bit his lip.

"My bad, dude," Soarin' breathed. "I guess I shouldn't pry."

"I... don't know where to begin." Flash hugged himself slightly. The wind gusts felt extra cold, suddenly. "I-I'm not sure I want to begin."

"A bit too real, huh?"

Flash nodded nervously.

Soarin' slicked his mane back. "Y'know... I've heard countless ponies praise the Wonderbolts. 'It must be so awesome to fly so fast and to do so many awesome tricks' they all say. And... it's kind of the same for pegasi in general. I can't measure how many times—since childhood, even—that earth ponies and unicorns have trotted up to me and went 'Dude, flying must be soooo cool! I wish I could just... flap my own wings and get away from it all!' But then these ponies don't know the same sobering truth that I do... that no matter how fast you can fly or how many dazzling midair tricks you can pull off... there are some things in life you just can't outrace."

Flash slowly closed his eyes.

Soarin' looked over. "Wherever you're from... however nasty it may or may not be... one thing's for sure. You brought it with you."

Flash grimaced into the darkness. "I'm s-sorry..."

"What for?" Soarin' smiled sweetly. "From what I can tell, you brought only the good parts."

To that, Flash Sentry opened his eyes. He turned to look at Soarin'.

Soarin' gazed back, kind and patient.

Flash swallowed a lump down his throat. "What makes you so certain you can trust me?"

Soarin' scratched his chin. "Well... from the sound of things... Princess Luna did."

"You only know that cuz I told you."

"So maybe I'm taking a chance."

"So maybe you're stupid."

"I think the word we agreed on was 'ambitious.' And besides..." Soarin' chuckled. "I've put my faith in Spitfire for years. What's the harm in believing in a swell dude for a day?" He smirked. "Don't you believe in adventure."

"I... guess you could say that 'adventure' brought me here."

"Perhaps even 'stupidity.'"

Flash laughed at that.

Soarin' had a chuckle as well.

Eventually, Flash exhaled, and the words that came out of his muzzle didn't entirely surprise him. "Girls totally suck, don't they?"

"I can think of something that sucks even more," Soarin' said.

But Flash was already nodding. "Guys who obsess with girls who suck."

Soarin' cocked his head aside. "Do you feel like talking about her now?"

Flash tried hard not to grimace. With pained eyes, he looked across the plateau. "The negotiations..."

"They'll begin when they begin. Seems like the canines of High Paw are taking their sweet time," Soarin' said. "I've got my eyes where they need to be. Now—if you need them—you've got my ears."

Flash stood still. Stiff. Cold. For the first time since he limped through the mirror, he felt as if the blurring, spinning world had finally, absolutely screeched to a halt. He was encumbered by a rush of blood to the head... and somewhat disappointed that it didn't cause him to faint.

After all, that would have been too convenient.

First

"It..." Flash stared off into arid nothingness beyond the cliffs of High Paw. "It's not their fault, necessarily."

Soarin' raised an eyebrow. "'Their?'"

"Erm..." Flash scratched the back of his neck with a hoof, exhaling. "They're not so evil now. That is... one of them. Or both of them. I mean... one of them was kinda friggin' evil for a while there, but she's not anymore. And the other one was never evil. Or—at least—I don't think she was ever evil. Not that I have any proof anyways..."

"Who exactly?" Soarin' asked.

Flash sighed immediately. "Okay. Rewind." He paced before his pegasus friend. "About two years ago or so... I met a girl. She took an instant liking to me. Or at least... so I thought." He gulped. "I-I wasn't really doing anything spectacular at the time. Just... cruising through school. Trying to keep things cool. Work on my music. When—suddenly—this gorgeous babe is talking to me everyday. Next thing I know, she's asking if we want to hang out. And... y'know... she was sexy as all Hell... had the voice of a smart, intelligent young woman. Plus... she could shred guitar like nobody's business. So... heh... yeah. I was totally on board with that."

"Sounds like a nice catch."

"Only... she wasn't the one being caught. I was. And not in a good way." Flash shuffled to a stop, fidgeting. "Not long into our relationship, she starts... bossing me around." His eyes darted over. "Which is fine, y'know. Well... maybe not bossing. Erm... what I mean is that 'pants' and 'skirts' are overrated in relationships in this day and age... including who does or doesn't wear them. Point is, it's fine if the girl's more assertive than the guy... I guess. But she? She was more than dominating. She was just... really unhappy. Like... constantly frustrated and aggravated and... was always taking it out on me. But—like—she always placed this candle of hope on the pedestal... like everything would somehow be fixed and I had to be the one to fix it."

"Yeesh." Soarin' cocked his head to the side. "Why'd you stick around with her?"

"Because..." Flash sighed, rubbing his head again as he stared past the Wonderbolts and the ponies disembarking from the landed hot air balloon. "Because I didn't know any better."

"You strike me as pretty sharp, dude. You'd know it if somepony was treating you rotten."

"I guess I just... thought that it was normal," Flash murmured. "I'd never been in a relationship before. Perhaps... being constantly nagged at and bitched at was what you had to deal with when having a significant other. Those were sacrifices that needed to be made. I... uh..." He looked over, ears folded. "I have parents who yell at each other all the time. My entire life—they've been at it. So... when it started happening in my own personal life... I guess I figured it was natural."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"Doesn't matter," Flash muttered. "I have to hear it every day." His ears twitched slightly. "Except for yesterday." A breath. "And today..."

Soarin' quietly looked at him.

Flash eventually continued: "And it's not like anybody ever strolled up to give me advice. It wasn't until this girl started going out with me that I found out that I was popular." His nostrils flared as he bore a bitter smile. "Me. Popular. Crazy, huh? Someone as goofy and ditzy as me?"

Soarin' smiled. "I'd believe it."

"Well, I still have a hard time with it. 'Cuz it's not something I ever really wanted. And then when she came along... she relished it. She basked in it. She made my popularity hers. Soon, I was no longer myself. Instead—thanks to her—I was some... caricature that I didn't even know existed in the first place."

"Somehow you must have known that you were popular before—"

"I'm telling you, dude, I didn't! I swear! And looking back..." Flash leaned against a rock. "...I'm at a loss to figure out how. Maybe I played music well? Maybe it's because I was the kind of guy who never gave a shit about how others treated me? Including teachers?" He snorted. "Hell, it was probably the muscle car I had. That was a pretty sweet ride. No wonder she made so many other girls jealous."

"Muscle... car...?" Soarin' repeated.

Flash shook his head. "Forget it. Point is..." He gestured with his hooves. "Despite the way she acted... and who she was... there were really wonderful things about her. And we did have our nice moments... even if they were few. I just wish..." He took a deep breath. "...I just wish that they were sincere... that I could have been sharing them with a sincere person... the kind of person she is now..." His eyes fell to the stone surface of the plateau. "But all I got... all I deserve was the past her. The rotten version."

"You..." Soarin' leaned in. "...made it sound like there was more than one girl."

Flash limply nodded. "The moment she finally left me—for better or for worse—everything changed. People started paying attention to me less. Those whom I thought were really friends were in fact just playing face to appease her... to appease the both of us. Some people—it turned out—supremely hated me. As if I was somehow in on the rotten shenanigans that she played out every day. And... I don't really blame them, y'know. I did so much to defend her, because she was my girlfriend and I was desperate to preserve what little good we had together. I... I-I turned a blind eye to all the horrible things that she did. I ignored all facts of her wrongdoing and just... called them totally bullshit 'rumors' or whatnot. And then—when everything had been ripped apart out in the open and her so-called 'reign of terror' had ended—I fell into the shadows. I soon realized how popular I truly was as it was being drained from me. The attention... the prestige... the respect... all down the drain. It probably would have been fine—y'know, all things considered—if the descent had continued uninterrupted... and I vanished completely from the scene. But... but something drew me back to the surface. A rekindled flame in my heart... a flicker of hope... of beauty."

Soarin' nodded. "Enter Lady Number Two."

Flash sighed... and sighed and sighed. A smile formed, one he was too busy with recollection to regret. "She was so innocent. So... curious and kind-hearted. Clumsy... but in a cute way. She... she didn't even want to have a relationship with anyone. She showed up in my life simply because she was trying to accomplish something for the greater good of everyone. I just happened to be in the right time and place to help her. And... and I-I couldn't help it. I was smitten at first sight. And... and perhaps the biggest mistake I made... the biggest mistake I ever made in this whole entire mess..." His ears drooped again. "...was thinking she was just as smitten as I was at that one moment."

"Well..." Soarin' scratched his chin as he eventually asked. "...could you blame her?"

Flash winced. Hard. "I'm... afraid to..."

Second

"This second girl you met must have meant a lot to you," Soarin' said.

"Only because she didn't try," Flash exhaled. "In fact—although she wore her heart on her sleeve—it was obvious to me that it was in a different place altogether."

"I'm guessing that didn't stop you from making the first move."

Flash bit the corner of his lip. "I didn't... make a move. That is, not really." He stared into the mountains, smiling listlessly. "I just couldn't. Any sudden action... any impulse... and—I swear—it would just break her."

"As delicate as they come, huh?"

"No, not really. It's more like..." Flash fidgeted. "...I didn't really know how to go about doing it. And... and I didn't want to mess things up for her... like things were screwed up for me."

"You were past your first marefriend at that point?"

"Definitely. Although..." Flash rubbed the back of his neck. "Our breakup didn't happen overnight. We just... gradually starting seeing each other less. She'd stop calling me. And... uhm..."

Soarin' was silent.

"I just... figured... that she had lost interest. Or... more appropriately... I was no longer of use to her." Flash took a deep breath. "And I felt so relieved by that... and then I felt bad for feeling relieved... and then I felt bad for feeling bad over being relieved. Because..." He looked over at the other stallion. "Being with her was no bed of roses."

"I figured as much."

"I stayed with her as long as I did because I felt that it was the best I could ever get... and that something that I couldn't taste, touch, smell, or feel was somehow right. I was just... too stupid to realize how stupid I was."

"I'm sure we've all been there, dude."

Flash shook his head. "Not like this." His eyes shut. "There was more to her than I ever could have imagined... more to who and what she was... where she came from... what she was capable of..."

"Yeesh. You make it sound like she was an evil monster in disguise or something."

Flash chuckled... perhaps a bit longer than he intended to. When he opened his eyes once more, he was smiling bitterly. The tone of his voice changed as well as the topic. "Without her, I was so... lost. It was like I had been whisked away to some crazy desolate wasteland and I couldn't find my way back. But then... when she showed up..."

Soarin' smirked. "Miss Second, I presume..."

Flash nodded. "I no longer cared if I was lost. After all, I had been 'found' before... and we both know how that turned out. But with this girl?" He sighed warmly. "I thought... here was my chance to find someone myself. Here was my chance to show someone else what it meant to be happy... to be appreciated... to be loved." As a cold wind blew, he hugged himself and leaned back against the rocky landscape. "Here was my chance to show someone all of the wonderful things that I was never shown... simply for the sheer beauty and inspiration that they bring to this world."

"That's... a lot to put on a pony," Soarin' said.

Flash nodded. "I know. And yet... it meant a lot to me. Because from the first moment that I saw her... from the first moment that feeling in my heart was kindled... I felt something so precious and so warm that I wanted to protect it and worship it with every fiber of my being."

A few silent seconds permeated the moment.

Soarin' gazed at him anxiously. "What happened?"

Flash's ears drooped hard. "Nothing."

Soarin' raised an eyebrow. "Nothing?"

Flash nodded... exhaled... and produced: "Nothing."

Silence.

Flash eventually continued: "She vanished... only to come back once in a full moon. Literally. And... she made no attempt to contact me. She made no attempt to look at me. She didn't even write... say my name... ask where I had been. She just... stopped existing... and because of that, I started wondering if maybe my feelings for her should never have existed in the first place."

"I hate to break it to ya, bro," Soarin' said. "But it sounds like she didn't put as much stock in you as you did in her."

Flash winced.

Soarin' cocked his head to the side. "Unless... she gave you signals that—"

"It doesn't matter what she did... or said... or implied," Flash muttered. "You're right. I did put too much stock in it. When she was around me, she wasn't swooning. She was just... innocent... and full of life. It was me who saw signals where there weren't any." He looked at Soarin'. "It was I who placed her on a pedestal that she didn't even know existed."

"Still, you could—perhaps—put some of the blame on her," Soarin' said. "If nothing else, mares do love stringing us guys along."

"No."

"Not at all?"

Flash shook. "Because I've known the problem all along."

"And what's that?"

"Being in love with her wasn't what was so important to me," Flash confessed. The skies above High Paw turned clearer in their naked blueness. "It was merely the idea of being in love." He hung his head. "And I fell for that hard."

Glimpse

"You wouldn't be the first stallion to make that choice," Soarin' said.

Flash Sentry blew out the side of his muzzle. "Don't you mean 'mistake?'"

"I don't believe in calling inevitable things 'mistakes,'" Soarin' clarified. "Dude, I may not know you. But I can tell that you're young. You've been through one bad relationship and another nonexistent one. But—y'know what? It's not the end of the world."

Flash stared straight ahead. "I wish I'd witness the beginning of the world."

Soarin' stared at him contemplatively.

Flash eventually met his eyes with his own. "What I got—at best—was a glimpse. Between Miss First and Miss Second... I caught a glimpse of what living must be like. And... and ever since..." He grimaced.

Soarin' leaned in ever so slightly. "Yes...?"

Flash hesitated at first. "Ever since... Miss First turned into a good person and told me what I needed to hear... that I had to let Miss Second go... well..." He brushed his mane back. "I've just... been sinking. Nonstop. Into a deep dark hole. And... what sucks the most about it is that the hole is no different than what my life has been before... what it's always been." He breathed deeply. "I've always been a loser."

"Come on, dude—"

"It's true," Flash said in a deep tone. "I'm not... entirely certain what distracted me before. But my life has always been empty... not meaningless. Just... dull. Without direction. And I don't really know how I carried on before. Maybe I just didn't care... and now I do... but I'm at a loss as to what to do about it?"

"Because you feel so abandoned?"

"Because I feel so alone," Flash confessed. "And... after Miss First used me and Miss Second ignored me... I find myself in the same place I've always been... and loathing it. And... and I just can't figure out why this had to happen. What inspired the universe to bring me into the shining light and just drop me right back in. It just... feels like the whole world decided to wipe its butt with me." He gulped. "I'm not wanting to complain. Can't really blame anyone or anything but myself, really... but... but beneath all of the sighs and all of the days spent lying in bed... I kinda feel angry, y'know?"

"Can't blame you."

"Or at least..." Flash leaned back on his haunches. "I want to feel angry."

"I recall someone who recently gave me some sound advice." Soarin' smiled. "Maybe what you need is a change in routine, bro."

Flash smiled pathetically. "What do you think I'm doing here?"

Soarin' raised an eyebrow.

"This isn't my home, Soarin'," Flash said. "I don't belong here."

"If you ask me, you fit right in," Soarin' replied smootely. "You're a good pony, Brad. You don't deserve the kind of crud you've gone through."

Flash was listening to Soarin's words, but his eyes—as well as his mind—were elsewhere.

Unanimous

Soarin' blinked hard. Between Flash's spontaneous confession and the sudden arrival of the diamond dog delegates, the Wonderbolt appeared to be suffering the cute winged pegasus equivalent of whiplash. Nevertheless, he composed himself very quickly, and Flash watched as he hissed authoritatively at a pair of lower-ranked wingmates who were starting to levitate.

"Down! Down!" he whispered hoarsely. "We don't want to give the mutts any reason to be startled!"

Spitfire overheard Soarin's command, and if she protested she made no sign of it. The lead Wonderbolt stood protectively at the head of the group as the spear-toting canines approached the landing spot of the hot air balloon.

With brave breaths, Prince Blueblood was the first to step forward. He struck a regal pose besides the array of crates that had been ferried in by the Midnight Oil and its crew.

"Greetings, beloved diamond dogs!" He added a sly grin. "And future friends." A dainty fetlock gestured towards his alabaster chest. "I am Prince Blueblood of the House of Blue, a lifelong family of Canterlot lords, ladies, and protectorates. On behalf of the Council of Canterlot, I extend a hoof of good will and generosity."

Fancy Pants wasted little time in trotting up to join the prince's side. "Dear sirs... and possible madames... ahem... my name is Fancy Pants. On behalf of aristocratic entrepreneurs and philanthropists Equestria-wide, I thank you for welcoming us to the threshhold of your domain."

Filthy Rich spent one too many seconds fidgeting. Spitfire coughed out of the side of her muzzle, and that seemed to be enough to prompt him. The stallion stumbled forward, forcing an awkward smile that was not so much insincere as it was anxious. "Uhm... h-howdy!" He waved awkwardly, forcing Prince Blueblood to face-hoof. "My name's Filthy Rich! Owner of Barnyarn Bargains! I'm plum giddy to be here! And... uhm..." He gulped hard and gestured at the crates beside them. "We come bearing gifts! Things that y'all might take a certain keen canine liking to!"

"One step at a time, my good stallion," Fancy Pants breathed aside.

"But one step at a time, my good stallion!" Filthy Rich stammered, causing Blueblood to face-hoof again.

Rather than laugh or balk at Filthy's delivery, the canines simply stood and murmured hushedly amongst one another. Flash Sentry took the moment to study them from afar: There were several tall canines—roughly half the height of an adult human, from Flash's guesstimate. They wore the heaviest armor and they appeared to be surrounding a group of much smaller diamond dogs with grayer, shaggier fur. It didn't take long for Flash to determine that the head elders were situated in the very center. After a quiet minute of muttering and grumbling, a mid-height canine stepped forward, directly addressing Blueblood, Fancy Pants, and Filthy.

"Sssssquisssshy poniesssssss..." As soon as the lead mutt spoke, Flash struggled not to laugh and vomit all at once. He listened in as the creature attempted to speak as "civil" as possible. "Your pressssence on High Paw issss a gift that you mussssst not ssssquander. Ssssssso we will not wasssste your time with formalitiessssssss."

"Well, that's fine and dandy!" Filthy Rich said with a nod. He turned and pointed at the crates. "I think you'll find that the digging tools we provided are of most exceptional use—"

"You mussssst leave thisssss placcce at onccccce and return to sissssssssy pony townssss!" the speaker said.

The double-takes Blueblood's expedition made nearly shook the plateau off its foundation.

"I beg your pardon?!" The Prince blurted.

"Return home, did you say?" Fancy Pants lisped.

"That issss correct." The mutt nodded. "Take your preccccciousssss thingssss and return in your air wagon! Immediately!"

"Now see here..." Fancy Pants frowned.

"We just arrived!" Prince Blueblood exclaimed, his tone slightly less callous than Fancy's, but nonetheless earnest. "This whole expedition was based on an agreement that you made with us! An arrangement! To meet at this exact place and time!"

"Do you honestly expect us to take all of this back because you've changed your minds without warning us?!" Fancy Pants exclaimed.

"Gentlecolts, please," Filthy Rich spoke, pacifying his associates. He turned towards the canines. "Forgive us for our shock... but we came here under the assumption that you wished to negotiate. Now we're being told outright to turned tail and leave. Surely we deserve an explanation if nothing else."

The speaker turned back towards the group of elders. Flash observed as they drew into a deep, hairy huddle—muttering once more among themselves. In the distance—Flash saw—several sets of reflective canine eyes peeking out of countless burrows along the top surface of High Paw. There were far more diamond dogs present than could be accounted for, and he suspected that—if they truly desired—they could have overwhelmed the pony expedition in a coordinated ambush.

Nevertheless, with quiet poise, the representatives finished their council and turned once again to face the equines.

"It isssss not that we don't wissssssh for friendssssship with the poniesssss." A hairy brow furrowed. Teeth showed. "There are many of usssss here in High Paw that wissssssh to trade jewelsssss for jewelssss..."

"Then what—pray tell—is the problem, my fellow?" Fancy Pants asked.

"The council of diamond brethren isssssss not in complete agreement over the matter," the speaker said. "And the dogsssss of High Paw do not make decissssionsss unlessssss the entire group is unanimousssssss..."

Reasons

"Did you say unanimous?" Prince Blueblood visibly grimaced at the canine speaker facing him and his fellow equines. "But that's so... so..." A cold shiver rolled through his well-groomed figure. "...positively Orwhinnian!"

"Not to mention horribly impractical, I dare say!" Fancy Pants added with a slight note of consternation.

"Now now..." Filthy Rich waved a hoof at his fellow cohorts. "Let us not be too quick to judge. These are diamond dogs, after all. Not ponies. The whole point of doing this exchange is to bridge the gap between our different cultures, after all."

"But my dear Filthy—!" Blueblood began.

"Mr Rich, your honor."

"Whatever!" Blueblood pouted, facing the canines yet again. "The only reason we spent the time and resources to arrive here in the first place was to engage in trade negotiations! We were led to believe that this was precisely what the head council of the Diamond Dogs desired! Now you're trying to tell us that this is not the case?!"

"It isssssss... difficult to explain, we musssssst know," the dog at the front of the group said. Flash could tell from a distance that the canine was fighting a series of nervous ticks and instincts not to outright bark or howl that these insufferable horse bankers. "But to ussssss diamond dogsssss... it isssss bessssst to agree completely on thingssssss or elssssse rissssk conflict among our packsssss." He shook his head; leafy ears flopped in the cold mountain breeze. "Without total agreement, we cannot function. Disssssagreement among the packsssss would abssssolutely ruin ussss!"

"No wonder you stay underground!" Fancy Pants exclaimed. "With that kind of a bureacracy, you musn't have the opportunity to poke your heads any bloody place else!"

"Ahem..." Filthy Rich took a few bold steps forward. He nervously eyed the spears in the grip of the larger canines while addressing the speaker. "I must admit that I find your idea of government quite... noble." He ignored a snorting sound from Blueblood behind him. "And—Celestia knows—if all ponies could agree on things unanimously, we'd enjoy an even more prosperous civilization than we do currently. It's just that—from the very incarnation of Equestria—we found that ruling by majority to be a far more practical form of making and abiding law."

"It'sssss a wonder you haven't ssssuffered numeroussss warssss," the canine said without a moment's hesitation.

Flash Sentry couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at that.

"Yes, well..." Filthy cleared his throat. "The difference in our form of governing and your form of governing isn't exactly what we're taking issue with at the moment, my dear.... canine." He bore a nervous smile while gesturing at his fellow business-stallions. "You must understand, we had little to no knowledge of your 'unanimous ruling' when we previously scheduled this meeting. We assumed that your council had already chosen by majority for us to arrange negotiations. If there was a chance for this decision among your elders to change—and we had known about it ahead of time—I assure you that we would... very likely have hesitated in arriving here and with such great speed too."

"We are... ehhhh..." The canine scruffed his mangy chin. "...how do you ponies put it..." Suddenly, he brightened. With a show of fangs, he exclaimed: "We are sorry!"

Several other mutts nodded enthusiastically, tails wagging.

Blueblood and Fancy Pants stared with muzzles agape.

Up above, Spitfire merely face-hoofed with a prolonged sigh.

Filthy Rich did his best to compose himself. "Your attentiveness to equine politeness and manners is most appreciated, good sir." His brow furrowed. "But I do hope you understand that this whole situation puts us in quite the bind." He gestured. "It took a great deal of Fancy Pants' and Prince Blueblood's fortune to arrange this meeting. It would... erm... be very difficult to attempt to repeat this transport again in the future, should your leaders change their mind."

"Will they change their minds?!" Blueblood insisted. "For the greater good of both our cultures!"

"Your Eminence..." Fancy Pants sighed, trying to press his shoulder.

Blueblood brushed past him, frowning. "I assure you—the diamond dogs can only profit from the goods and resources we have to exchange! Don't your kind want... you know... good things?"

"My dear Prince, it simply isn't that easy!" Fancy Pants exclaimed.

"But we came all this way—!"

"Don't you think I know that?!" Fancy Pantrs sighed, then cast the canine representatives an exhausted look. "Perhaps you would allow us to appear before your council? So that we may convince those who haven't agreed to the proposal that they can only stand to benefit?"

The hairs on the speaker's back bristled slightly. "I'm afraid that only dogssss are allowed insssssside the deep hallsss of High Paw!" He gestured with his claws. "It'ssssss threatening the will of the council jussssssst to have you sssssstanding here on the plateau! But..." He calmed slightly. "We are not unreassssonable. We know you came here becaussssse of prior arrangementsssss. For that reasssssson, we have not sssssskewered you with sssssspearssss."

"Well..." Spitfire rolled her eyes. "...that's good to know, at least!"

"You're sure there's no way for us to convince your council otherwise?" Filthy asked.

"The council issssss not one ssssssolid entity," the speaker said. He glanced fixedly at Filthy. "At leasssssst... not in this casssssse."

"What do you mean by that?" Filthy asked.

"The reassssson we are not unanimousssss issssss due to the dissssaproval of the Hawkeye Pack," the dog explained.

"Wait a minute..." Prince Blueblood took a step forward, frowning. "You mean to tell me that the reason why we all have to turn tail and fly back to Canterlot is because of a single group of elders?"

"That isssss correct!" The speaker nodded. "The Hawkeye Pack issssss not willing to negotiate with ponykind."

"Why, of all the moronic—!" Prince Blueblood was silenced by a gentlecoltly fetlock.

Fancy Pants stood in front of him, facing the speaker. "Could we—at least—speak with this group of... Hawkeyes? Perhaps we might be able to talk some sense to them."

"That issssss not posssssssssible."

"I assure you that we will be most polite."

"I mean that they dwell in the deepest chambers of High Paw. And sssssssince non-dogsssss aren't allowed in there—"

"Good heavens—then couldn't one of the Hawkeyes come to the surface so we can speak here?"

"I doubt any of them will be willing."

"And why's that?"

"They are convinced that poniesssssss only wissssssh to cook ussssss dogssss alive and eat them."

"You can't be serious! Do we look like carnivores to you?! Please... my good chap... if we could just steal five minutes of their time..."

While Fancy Pants and his companions struggled to strike a bargain with the speaker, Flash Sentry found himself feeling... more than a little bit uncomfortable. As a result, he started fidgeting... and that fidgeting turned into meandering. Soon, he had pivoted about in a half-circle, his pony eyes scanning the arid mountains surrounding the plateau. As his ears twitched to the sound of bickering animal people, he noticed something flickering in the corner of his peripheral.

"...?"

Curious, Flash darted his head towards the location of the light beacon. He found himself staring at a tall mountain peak located southeast of where the Midnight Oil was hovering. The teenager stared and stared... noticing nothing out of the order.

Then—just as his eyelids were itching to blink—he saw it again. The flicker... like a pulse of reflective light.

Brow furrowed, Flash stared at the sky. It was getting late in the afternoon and the sun was setting in the west beyond the edges of High Paw. He glanced southeast again—at the mountain—and again he saw the flicker. Only this time, he could have sworn the light was moving.

Flash opened his muzzle to say something. But as he turned towards the rest of the group, he found that all of them were completely absorbed into the heated conversation taking place between pony and canine kind. Nobody was looking at the southeast mountain.

And nobody was looking at him.

Already, his wings were twitching. His mind wandered, and already he knew that what he was contemplating was the absolute most stupid thing he could do.

So he did it.

On soft hooves, Flash Sentry snuck away from the scene... and made for the outermost east slopes of High Paw, where the plateau's stone surface dipped further out of sight. Not that it mattered. Nopony had their eye on him.

None... except for one stallion. Soarin' caught Flash's movements immediately. He could have shouted something—but he didn't want to exacerbate the already dramatic scene. What was more, there was something deliberately purposeful about Flash's stealthy exit. Beyond curious, Soarin' threw a worrisome eye at Spitfire, and after realizing her flank was turned... he swiftly mimicked Flash's actions... stealing himself away from the scene with quiet haste.

Stealth

Flash Sentry didn't know what he was thinking.

Well, that wasn't exactly true. He could have known what he was thinking, but that would have defeated the whole purpose of the doing. After all, avoiding thoughts was what brought him through the mirror to Equestria to begin with. Now, as he flew away from High Paw... away from the shadow of the Midnight Oil... and towards a lonesome mountain peak to the southeast that housed a curious reflective sheen...

...he could tell that it took no thought whatsoever. Perhaps that was the explanation for the mischievous smirk adorning his muzzle. In a way, it was almost heroic, but the mystery of the matter clouded everything.

All Flash knew was that he was going to be okay so long as someone or something didn't spontaneously force him to confront those forsaken thoughts—

"Dude, what the hay?!" Soarin' hissed in his ear.

"Whoah!" Flash nearly lost the wind in his wings. He jolted slightly, then resumed a southeast glide. "Whew! Heheh!" He smirked aside. "Somebody should put a bell on you."

"Have you completely lost your mind?!" Soarin' exclaimed through clenched teeth.

Flash shrugged. "Wouldn't be the first time."

"This isn't funny!" Soarin' frowned. "You picked a lousy time to sneak off!"

"I'm not sneaking!" Flash insisted. He rolled his eyes at himself. "Okay, so I am sneaking, but 'sneaking off' implies that I'm abandoning the party—"

"Aren't you?"

"Hell no!" Flash squeaked, then glided lower through the stone ravine they were in. "I'm too jazzed by this whole experience to call it quits! What ever gave you idea!"

"Well... I mean..." Soarin' fidgeted adorably in mid-air. "From all the stuff you just got off your chest about yourself... I figured—"

"Just chillax, man." Flash gestured while gliding lower. "Just because I was being emo doesn't mean I'm emo... erm... you know what I mean."

"No, I don't. Brad—"

"'Flash Sentry,' remember?"

"Whatever! Look! I can't just let you fly off on your own in canine-controlled wilderness! You're my responsibility as much as the other ponies and—" The Wonderbolt blinked stupidly at the rock walls closing in all around them. "... ... ...why are we flying so low?"

"Because..." Flash pointed at the peaks looming above them to the southeast. "...I want to get a jump on whoever's camped out in those hills."

"Camped out?!" Soarin' grimaced. "Br—Flash... what exactly did you see?"

"Something reflecting the setting sun," Flash answered. "It was moving. I bet it's something glass. Or metal."

"What?!" Soarin's eyes widened as he glanced up at the peaks growing closer, looming. "Someone's camped up there?"

"Sure looks like it. Unless—of course—I imagined things. But I'm not crazy." Flash giggled out the side of his muzzle. "Not yet, at least."

"No canine or pony is supposed to be out in these hills surrounding High Paw!" Soarin' exclaimed.

"Yeah. That's what I figured."

"Come with me!" Soarin' hissed, adjusting his wings to turn about-face. "We have to alert the others—"

"Whoah there!" Flash threw a hoof out and anchored Soarin' in place. "Bad idea, buddy!"

"This is a potential security risk!" Soarin' insisted. "Spitfire has to know—"

"What for?!" Flash frowned. "You want that tryhard goin' all Colonel Killgore on the mountains?!" He shook his head. "Bad timing, dude. You heard how tense things were back there! If either Blueblood's gang or the mutts from High Paw get startled, who knows how many spears could fly!"

"But... but procedure..."

"Man, buck procedure," Flash said. He smirked. "That's the proper euphemism in this universe, right? 'Buck-it-all?'"

"Uhhhhhhhhhhhhh—"

"This situation calls for a delicate touch. And—dude—that ain't Miss Ginger McBitchface back there. This calls for you."

"I..." Soarin' chewed on his bottom lip as the southeast peak overshadowed them. "I dunno..."

"Look, will it make it easier if you tell Spitfire and Company later that you flew out here to save my stupid ass?" Flash remarked. "I just want to see if there's anything up there for us to be concerned with. For all we know, this might be the answer to what's stuck in the diamond dogs' craw."

Soarin' took a deep breath. "Luna spare me..."

"Heck, perhaps she has, dude."

Soarin' frown at him. "But you must let me take charge if something dangerous rears its head."

Flash shrugged. "Situation's all yours, Master Chief. But I suggest we try and observe before poking our adorable pony heads out in the open."

"Agreed."

"And thanks, by the way," Flash said.

Soarin' glanced aside. "For what?"

Flash smirked ahead of them. "For not going nuclear on my butt after the whole 'I'm a human being in pony's clothing' confession."

"I... still don't quite know what to make of that revelation," Soarin' muttered. "I've never heard of a 'human being.'"

"It could be worse," Flash said. "At least I'm not from some tentacle monster dimension. I'm certain that wouldn't bode well for your tender squishy pony bodies."

"I still don't understand."

"Ah. You don't spend much time on the Internet, do you?"

"What's an Internet?"

"Ugh..." Flash face-hoofed. "You know what? Let's just check this shit out. I'll continue opening my big mouth later."

Soarin' nodded. "Very well."

And the two gently glided up the edge of the cliff-face and towards the source of the glinting light.

Dumb

"No no no! You're ssssssupposssssssed to pull the lever back to full tensssssion and then load the projectile!"

"What projectile?! I'm trying to load the ssssstone!"

"You idiot! The ssssstone isssss the projectile!"

"Well why didn't you ssssssay sssssso! Ssssstop ussssing big wordssss!"

"I'm not ussssssing big wordssss! What do you take me for, a pony?! They're the onessss we're trying to sssssmasssssh!"

"Nopony'sssss going to be sssssmassssshed unlessss you let me fix thisssss launcher thingy jussssst right!"

"You're both doing it wrong! I keep on telling you! We need to aim it more to the north!"

"I made my calculationssssss dayssss ago! Everything will work out if we jusssst do this asssss I have planned!"

"Some plan! You were wanting to launch projectilesssss insssstead of sssstonesss!"

"Rrrrrrrrrgh! You imbecilessss!"

"There you go usssssing big wordssss again!"

"Bark!"

While this... invigorating argument continued heatedly upon the cliff-face, Soarin' and Flash Sentry quietly snuck up, using an outcropping of rocks for cover. They peered through a crevice and saw three gangly canines fussing over a haphazardly constructed apparatus positioned crookedly within the narrow clearing. The largest of the three canines was hugging an immense rock to his chest while he hissed and barked at the other two. A slightly smaller canine griped and argued with him over the stone while the tiniest jumped on the biggest's head and started pulling at his ears.

"Aaaargh! Sssstop it, Spot! You're going to rip my earssss off!"

"Then quit being a runt and load the sssssstone into the bassssket! Ruff!"

"Fido! Spot! The two of you are wassssting valuable time! The council isssss talking to those wretched poniessss right now! They'll fly away in their air boat any ssssecond now!"

"You don't know that, Rover!"

"It doessssn't matter! We need to sssssmasssssh thosssse poniessss now while we have a chance! For High Paw!"

"Get off me!"

"Drop the sssssssstone!"

"Grrrrrrrr!"

"Yip!"

Flash and Soarin' watched with dull expressions. As the three canines continued to argue and struggle with one another, the teenager muttered to the Wonderbolt.

"That's... uh... that's a catapult."

"Mmmhmmm." Soarin' nodded.

"These guys... they're idiots, aren't they?"

Soarin' shuddered. "Nevertheless, they're idiots with a catapult."

"What are the odds they'll actually hit the Midnight Oil with that thing?"

"They'll hit something alright," Soarin' said. "And something tells me that they'll somehow try to pin it on Fancy Pants and his airship."

"Yeah..." Flash grimaced. "Why do these guys hate ponies so much?" He looked aside. "Is that common among diamond dogs?"

Soarin' shook his head. "Honestly, I have no clue. I've always assumed monsters—errrr..." He glanced shiftily at the orange stallion at his side. "That... non-ponies had a distinct dislike for equines, but I'm... trying to have an open mind."

The mountain peak shook as the largest canine tossed his "companion" into a nearby chunk of stone.

Flash gulped. "You have more courage than me."

"Strange..." Soarin' gazed at the vests and collars that the three mongrels were wearing. "Something about their attire..."

"You know these guys?" Flash asked.

"No. But... I vaguely remember this story Rainbow Dash used to brag about," Soarin' remarked. "Something about a bunch of underground foalnappers that she and her friends cleared out of Ponyville..."

"Were they diamond dogs?"

"They were. But... the chances are astronomical." Soarin' took a deep breath and turned around. "Whelp... better go tell Spitfire and the rest."

"What?" Flash squinted at him. "What for?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Soarin' gestured, still keep his voice—and head—low to avoid detection. "These morons are trying to threaten the negotiations!"

"Yeah... but don't forget the 'moron' part," Flash said. "I don't think we need the full hammer of the Wonderbolts elite crushing these punks. That might look bad in the eyes of High Paw."

"How so?"

"I dunno. Maybe it'd seem dishonorable?" Flash's eyes crossed. "No wait, that's Klingons."

"These guys could still be dangerous if they execute whatever plan they've got cooked up."

"Yeah... but don't you think idiots are more dangerous when their shit goes wrong?" Flash asked.

Soarin' stood in place, tapping his chin.

"I think it'd be best if we got as few potential victims mixed up with this situation as possible. Also... think about it." Flash smiled. "If we crush these guys with the Midnight Oil's full complement, what would be left of them to 'fess up about what exactly they're trying to pull here?"

"What would you suggest we do?" Soarin' gestured wildly. "Sneak up and knock their heads together? Just the two of us? Look at their massive forelimbs!"

"Don't be silly." Flash sported a dumb grin. "We'll talk to them!"

Soarin' nearly spat his tongue out. "Talk to them?! These morons would have us for supper!"

"Now now... that's what some of the diamond dogs think you ponies want to do with them. What are we here for if not to destroy negative cross-cultural predilections?"

"But... but..."

"Don't you think the best way to solve stuff is the peaceful way?"

"That's... not always easy."

"Maybe in my world. But here?" Flash strolled boldly ahead. "...I think it's worth a try."

"Hey! Flash!" Soarin' hissed, then frowned as the teenager bolted forward. "Dang it!" He darted desperately after the other stallion.

Dumber

"Rrrrrrrrghhh!" Rover pulled at his pointed ears, fanged teeth gritting inside a slobbery maw. "Eeeenough!" He waved dramatically at the largest and smallest canines who were wrestling over a boulder across the catapult from him. "Look at you two! Behaving like mindlessssss pupsssss!"

"Hey!" Spot frowned, perched atop Fido's shoulder in mid-struggle. "We're not pupssss!"

"Yeah!" Fido growled, hugging the boulder to his large fuzzy chest. "What'sssss with the insssssultssss? I thought you were on our ssssside!"

"I am on your ssssside! You two are jussssst too dumb to realize how much I'm sssssticking my head out for you!" Rover pointed at them. "This is why the resssst of the Council never take ussss sssseriousssly, even after all the thingssss I've ssssaid to convince them of the poniessss and their evil wayssss!"

"But... but..." Spot hopped down off of Fido's shoulders. "Didn't you ssssay that the Council won't be talking with the poniessss now that you've filled the busssster?"

"Filled the—ugh!" Rover face-paw'd. "Am I talking to dogssss or hyenasss?"

Fido bore a tiny smile as he waved. "My mom'ssss half dingo!"

Spot kicked his leg.

"Ow!" Fido winced, touching foreclaws to each other. "But it'sss true! It'ssss why I have ssssuch big feet."

"Whatever!" Spot growled, turning to face Rover again. "What mattersss is that the poniesss won't be doing businessss with the diamond dogssss of High Paw!" He gestured wildly at the catapult. "What are we even doing here with this junk?!"

"We have to knock the poniessss' airsssship out of the sky!" Rover exclaimed.

Spot shrugged wildly. "What for?"

"Yeah!" Fido nodded, pointing at the smallest canine. "What he yipped!"

"Becausssssse..." Rover folded his large forelimbs, frowning. "We need to make the poniessss sssssso angry that they'll never vissssit High Paw again!"

"You sssssure you won't... y'know..." Spot coughed. "...come back and attack ussss in greater numbersssss?"

"Yeah!" Fido nodded again. "With their big sssssun zebra!"

Spot growled at Fido. "Their Princesssss is not a zebra!"

"The how come the ssssky is black and white?!"

"You idiot!" Spot kicked his leg once more. "We're dogssss! Everything is black and white!"

Flash Sentry hopped down from a looming boulder to stand across the clearing from them. "Also, you can't look up, it seems."

Rover glanced at him—then did a double-take. "PONY!"

"Where?!" Fido glanced all about. "All I see is a winged creature!"

"Ssssome of them have wingsss, you mutt!"

"Really? They're in leaguesss with the birdsss?!"

"Ssssshut up and help me!" Rover scampered over to a wooden crate and fumbled with a blunt sword. "Tie him down while he'sss disssstracted—" An athletic set of hooves slammed over his paw. "Yowsersss!"

Soarin' perched atop the crate, knocking the pick axe away and frowning. "No stabbings today, thank you."

"Rrrrrgh!" Rover licked his paw, backing up. "Quick!" He hissed towards his partners. "Do something!"

"With what?" Spot pointed at the catapult. "We couldn't even load thissss ssssstupid thing!"

"And whosssse fault issss that?" Fido grumbled.

"Yourssss, you big oaf!"

"Awwwww! I'm sorry—HEY!" Fido snarled at the smallest one.

Flash cleared his throat loudly. He casually sidestepped until he stood beside Soarin' and the crate. "Sorry for the surprise entrance. And... y'know..." He pointed at Rover's paw. "...for the bruised wrist."

"I'm not sorry," Soarin' muttered.

Flash sighed through that and threw the three canines a calm smile. "Unlike some people, we're not wanting to start any wars today. We just came here to talk."

"Hah!" Rover barked, folding his forelimbs in indignance. "Niccccce try at decccception, pony! If you're not here to sssssstart a war, then why'ssss your friend wearing a uniform?"

"Huh? Uniform?" Flash looked at Soarin'.

Soarin' fidgeted nervously.

"That's... not a uniform..." Flash wheezed. "It's..." He brightened, standing tall and proud. "A dress!"

Soarin' twitched in his jumpsuit. "A dress?"

Rover blinked. "That's what a pony dressssss looksssss like?"

"Yes! And isn't it a most... beautiful wedding gown for a beautiful bride?" He drew the Wonderbolt close with a gentle wing, smiling cheekily at the dogs. "We thought we might grab a ride on that airship over there for our honeymoon cruise!"

"Uhhhhh... yeah..." Soarin' awkwardly gargled, sweating. "We're on our way to Las Pegasus."

Flash chuckled breathily. "You've got a Las Pegasus?"

"Yeah...?"

"Hah! That's adorable..."

"That..." Rover's eyes squinted as he pointed at Soarin'. "...that isssss a female pony?"

"Sure!" Flash's eyes narrowed. "You've never seen one before?"

Fido and Spot immediately shuddered.

"We've met one before," Rover grumbled. "We jusssst didn't know other maresss came so... thick."

"Thick?" Soarin' grimaced, glancing down at his own flank.

"It's... uhm... a common misconception!" Flash stammered, smiling as he gave Soarin' a wing-pat. "I don't blame you for not telling the difference. Dwarves get us mixed up all the time."

Soarin's muzzle scrunched. "What are dwarves?"

Flash threw him a shocked expression. "This land doesn't have dwarves?"

"You didn't answer my question."

"What kind of a magical land doesn't have dwarves?"

"Flash, when are you going to get it through your thick skull that I don't get your references."

"Darmok and Jalad on the Ocean."

"What?!"

"Precisely."

"Awwwwwwwwwwwww..." Fido cupped his hairy maw between two paws. "They're so cuuuute when they bicker—OOF!"

Spot spun from punching Fido in the gut. "Cut the chatter! Newlywedssss or not, you're interrupting sssssomething very important here!"

"What's so important?" Flash arched an eyebrow. "Launching deadly catapults at our fellow ponies over there? Because I don't think either Equestria or High Paw will be down with that Wile E. Coyote shit."

"High Paw's counccccil isssss full of idiotssss to think that dealing with poniesss will make the diamond dogsss sssstronger!" Rover snarled.

"Yeah! And..." Spot leaned in. "...did they just call us coyotes?"

"Rrrrrrrgh!" Rover shoved Spot's forehead away. "Begone, you two!" He shook a paw at the stallions. "Or we'll cut you into ssssslicessss of horsssse meat!"

"Pffft. Please..." Flash pointed at Soarin'. "Even my wife proved we could kick your hairy butts from here to Shanghay!"

"Flash..." Soarin' moaned into his hoof. "...I swear to Celestia."

"What?" Flash grinned stupidly. "You mean you don't have a 'Shanghay?'"

"Grnnnngh!" Rover was back to pulling his ears. "For the love of bonesss!" He whimpered. "What will it take to make you two leave?!"

"Just chill, Lassie, we only want to talk this whole thing—" Flash stopped in mid-sentence. He blinked at the trio of canines.

Soarin' craned his neck in legitimate curiosity. "What?"

Flash squinted.

Rover, Spot, and Fido stared at them. Their eye sockets were large, but their pupils were narrow... slitted.

Flash's lips pursed. At last, he said, "Are you three... Hawkeyes?"

Immediately, the dogs' ears perked up in surprise.

"Do you represent the Hawkeye Pack?" Flash re-inquired.

"Ruff?" Spot sniffed the air nervously. "How would you know that? You're a pony!"

Fido and Rover glanced at each other with nervous jitters.

"Well..." Flash smirked aside. "That's a thing."

Soarin' nodded. "It sure is..."

Hawkeyes

"Ansssssswer us!" Rover insisted, pointing an angry claw. "You are poniesss and you are outsiderssss!" His fangs showed, providing a brief flash of sincere menace. "How do you know about our pack name?!"

"Yeah!" Spot folded his forelimbs. "That's a High Paw secret!"

Flash cleared his throat and boldly trotted closer. "We... overheard from your elders' speaker that the Council of High Paw only makes decisions if all the packs are unanimous. Apparently, the agreement over meeting with the pony representatives was called off at the last second because one pack backed out of the decision... specifically the Hawkeye Pack."

"Well, we had good reassssson to!" Rover snarled. "You poniessss are a bunch of greedy creaturessss who'll take whatever you get a grimey hoof on!"

Soarin' frowned. "That's not true!"

"More importantly—!" Flash interrupted, glancing from Soarin' to the Hawkeyes. "It's not what was told to the Council."

"Woof?" Rover raised an eyebrow.

"I clearly remember the speaker paraphrasing what happened!" Flash exclaimed. "He said that the Hawkeye Pack claimed that ponies only want to eat diamond dogs for supper!" His fuzzy brow furrowed. "And that was the reason for your pack dragging its heels in contributing to a unanimous decision..." He nodded, waving his fetlock from side to side. "Or its paws... y'know... whatever."

"Mrrmmmmmm..." Fido tapped his chin, throwing the other two a nervous glance.

Rover's nostrils flared. "Look! We had to tell them sssssomething to convinccce them to throw off the meeting! Or else—"

"What?" Soarin' blinked. "Ponies and diamond dogs might end up finding a way to live peacefully?" He gestured. "To exchange goods and culture in a way that would benefit both civilizations?"

"Do you honestly think ponies like us would want to eat you?" Flash asked.

"No!" Fido exclaimed. Upon receiving glares from Rover and Spot, he sheepishly murmured: "Well... I dunno. Maybe?"

"So... lemme guess..." Flash waved. "You propagated a whole bunch of purposefully false fearmongering just to get your way in the politics of High Paw." He pointed at the catapult. "And then you took advantage of the trust that was already built between ponies and canines only to instigate an act of unprovoked war?"

"Don't use big wordssss on ussss, pony!" Spot barked. "Keep it simple!"

"You guys were dicks!" Flash blurted.

Fido's and Spot's tails hung between their legs.

"Well..."

"We had to be!" Rover growled. "Nopony knowsss poniesss like we do! Telling the truth would only delay mattersss! Take too much time!"

"But... like..." Flash shrugged. "...if all you ever do is tell lies, then how are you going to come to any sort of understanding at all?" He pointed vaguely west. "Even if you were successful with the catapult, how would you then guarantee it had the desired effect? Would you even be able to prove your point after such a mess gets started?"

The three looked at one another.

"Mrmmm..." Rover shook his head. "It'sssss all too complicated. The councccccil would never hear the Hawkeyessss out! Not sssssso long as they believe there'ssss opportunity to be had with the poniesssss..."

Flash sighed long and hard. "Look... I know it's hard to rely on the truth at times. More often than not, what's true serves to hurt us just as much as it helps us. Truth isn't easy... but it's usually the right way to go in most cases." He threw Soarin' a glance, then looked at the mutts yet again. "So... I suppose it's only fair that I tell you the truth first." He pointed aside. "This pony here—Soarin'—is no mare. And he's not my wife."

"Ehhhh?" Spot blinked.

"And we're not on some honeymoon cruise," Flash further explained while Soarin' watched on. "Yes, we were riding on the airship that brought the ponies here... but Soarin' here is only wanting to protect them. And me? Heh... well..." He rubbed the back of his head. "Jury's still out on what I'm doing here. But I can assure you that I want everyone to be hunky-dory with one another."

"Sooooooooo..." Fido turned his head sideways. "You're not married to a beautiful bride?"

"No," Soarin' grunted. "He's not."

"Idiot!" Spot jumped tall so he could punch Fido in the shoulder. "I knew her eyelasssshessss weren't long enough!"

"Owwww!" Fido whimpered. "Stop hitting me!"

"Never!"

"Wait wait wait!" Rover waved his claws, then glared at the stallions. "If none of that wasssss true... then why did you sssssay it wassss when you firsssst ssssshowed up?"

"From the look of things, you were preparing to commit long-range rockicide," Flash said, waving at the catapult. "We didn't know if that thing had a hair-pin trigger or not. I didn't want to freak anyone out."

"Grfffff..." Rover folded his forelimbs. "Fair enough. I sssssuppossssse you poniessss can be clever... when it helpssss you."

"When it helps you, dude," Flash said in a sincere tone. "Have you even begun thinking of the consequences for what you were planning to do? Never mind Equestria! How would High Paw punish the Hawkeye Pack? All your dog-mommies and dog-daddies back home?"

"Uhhhhhhhhhhhh..." Fido looked at the others.

"We... uhhhhh..." Rover fidgeted.

"We didn't exactly think of that," Spot wheezed.

"I didn't think so. Well..." Flash exhaled through a smile, relaxing his limbs. "Perhaps now we can talk about it. I've already told you the truth about me and Soarin' here." He held a hoof out. "How about you try telling us the truth?"

"What do you mean?" Spot asked.

"Well... you could start by telling us the real reason for why the Hawkeye Pack doesn't want to join in on the Council of High Paw's unanimous decision."

"Yeah..." Soarin' nodded. "Just what did ponies do to you that made you so angry and distrustful of us?"

The others looked at Rover.

Rover smirked bitterly at the stallions. "You want to know what the poniessss did to us? Fine!" His slitted eyes narrowed menacingly. "We'll tell you..."

Valuable

"And that'ssssssss when her horn began glowing, and with a bright ssssspark of blue pony magic..." Spot flailed his forelimbs dramatically. "...she filled our orificesss with sssspiderssss!"

Soarin' did a double-take. "With spiders?!"

"All of the spiders!" Spot nodded.

"Did..." Flash Sentry leaned forward squinting. "...this 'Miss Rarity' really do that?"

Spot opened his muzzle... paused... then tapped his chin. "Uhmmm..."

"I thought you dreamt that during the voyage way back to High Paw," Fido remarked.

"Woof!" Spot growled at the biggest canine. "What doessss it matter?! Misssss Rarity ccccertainly traumatized ussss enough with her whining and complaining! My head made up the nightmare to chasssse the embarrasssssing memoriesss away!"

Soarin' sighed and gazed lethargically at Rover. "Is any of his part of the testimony true?"

"Why are you asssssking me, pony?" Rover asked.

"Because of all the diamond dogs here, you seem to have it the most together," Flash Sentry said.

"Yeah." Soarin' nodded. "What he said."

"Why of all the—" Rover did a double-take. "Wow. You... uh..." He touched his claws together. "You really think so?"

"Isn't it friggin' obvious, dude?"

"It'sss jussssst that I..." Rover fiddled with one of his ears, blushing slightly. "...never thought a pony would ssssay ssssomething ssssso complimentary about a diamond dog..."

"Let's cut to the chase," Flash said, pacing before the trio. "Based on what I've heard from all three of you..." He glared at Spot and Fido. "...despite a few eccentric details thrown in at random..."

"Eh heh heh heh..." Fido and Spot fidgeted nervously where they stood.

"...I think we've got a few details hammered in concrete." Flash continued. "'Miss Rarity' shows up with the baby dragon. She was stealing your jewels and gemstones. You took her into your custody. She proceeded to annoy you all to the point of deathly migraines, forcing you to dig for her and give up your hoard just to let her go."

"All of our hoard!" Spot squealed. "And our best bodyguards and are armor and—"

"Will you hussssh up?! Mosssst of that happened after we got rid of that inssssufferable pony!" Rover grunted.

Soarin' looked at him. "How do you mean?"

"Unnnnghhhh..." Rover rolled his eyes. "We were sssssssso sssssssick of that loud moaning pony and her running mouth! We gave up our treassssure jusssst to be rid of her! That'sss when our workerssss and guardssss left us!"

"They ssssaid we were weak and ssssmall-minded!" Spot exclaimed.

"Yeah!" Fido nodded. "And later—they even inssssulted us!"

"Long sssstory ssssshort, we losssst our pressssscious presssstige assss Diamond Dogssss!" Rover moaned. "We were the laughing sssstock of High Paw for monthssss!"

"And all becausssse of that crazy ssssshe-horsssse!" Spot snorted.

Flash nodded, tapping his orange chin. "I see..." He flexed his wings and trotted forward. "You don't think that maybe... just maybe... you got what you deserved for kidnapping a pony and forcing her to dig for jewels against her will?"

"What?!?!" Rover's nostrils flared. "Didn't you hear a sssssingle word we ssssaid?! Ssssshe wassss sssstealing our gemsssstones! From our landssss!"

"Did she know they were your gemstones?" Flash asked.

Rover opened his mouth... but hesitated. "Uhm..."

Flash's eyes narrowed. "Did she know they were on your land."

"I... erm..." Rover exchanged glances with Fido and Spot. "Uhhhhhh..."

Soarin' spoke up. "Ponies have a different concept of property than diamond dogs," he explained. "Here in Equestria, we mark our territory on maps and with signs. Anything that falls outside of our concept of property is considered 'wilderness' unless somepony or someone stakes a claim to it."

"And, most likely, none of you had staked a claim," Flash said. "Or at least you hadn't been able to communicate this with any of the ponies living nearby so they would have known better than to interfere."

"Ponies don't like to steal things," Soarin' insisted. "Trust me. If Miss Rarity had known that those jewels belonged to you, she wouldn't have taken them in the first place."

"But..." Fido squirmed on his big limbs. "All jewels belong to diamond dogs."

Soarin' nodded. "I understand that you all believe that. And we're not here to dispute the matter—at least not without the counsel of both High Paw and Canterlot." His brow furrowed. "But one thing you must understand about Equestria is that we all consider the individual to be free. An individual has rights. This includes the right to freedom from slavery, ownership, or forced labor."

"But ssssshe wasssss hunting for jewelsss already!" Spot exclaimed. "And doing it ssssso well!"

"Yeah!" Fido nodded. "What wasss the harm in Missss Rarity doing a little bit of work for usss, huh?"

Soarin' took a breath. "Did she ever volunteer to help you three?"

"Oh... uhm..." Spot fidgeted.

"Did she ever indicate that she was okay with being forced to dig for you?"

"No!" Fido shook his head. "She was too busy kicking and screaming!" His slitted pupils shrank. "Wait..."

"Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh..." Rover leaned back against the catapult. "No wonder her pony friendssss were russssshing in to get her!"

Flash did a double-take. "Wait, what?"

"Yeah!" Fido nodded. "They fought our guardssss to get to our chamber and everything!"

"Only... we were giving up Missss Rarity right assss ssssshe arrived," Rover added.

Flash and Soarin' exchanged glances.

"Well..." Flash smirked in the diamond dogs' direction. "...if nothing else, I think we're starting to understand what's most valuable here."

Pound

"Do you poniesssss..." Spot shuffled forward, eyes peering. "...really believe that every individual ssssshouldn't be forcccced to dig?"

"Of course not!" Soarin' exclaimed. "Why? Is that different from what diamond dogs believe?"

"The earth belongssss to usss!" Rover said. "Any sssssecond we ssssspend not digging for jewelsss isssss a wassste!"

"Missss Rarity wasss ssssstealing our jewelsss!" Spot added. "We figured—in time—sssshe would learn to like the work!"

"After all, it benefited the pack!" Fido added.

"And the good of the pack is more important than the good of the runt!" Rover finished. "It'ssss the way of all thingssss." He winced, ears drooping as he smiled bashfully. "Well... uhhh... diamond dog thingssss."

Soarin' frowned. "I can't believe how you could possibly use that to excuse the willful enslavement of a unicorn citizen—"

Flash rested a hoof on the wonderbolt's shoulder, silencing him. He glanced calmly in the canines' direction. "I feel for my buddy here. It shocks me—too—that you would enslave an innocent pony to do your dirty work." He gestured. "But I get the feeling that the nature of the crime sorta... goes over your head."

"Maybe if... uh..." Fido scratched his scalp. "...you explain it again?"

"Dummy!" Spot swatted his hindquarters. "The poniessss have already explained it! Do we have to hammer it into your thick ssssskull?"

"What about your thick ssssskull?" Fido barked.

"Grrrrrrrgh!" Rover hissed.

Flash gave a shrill whistle.

All three looked at him.

"And..." He smiled tiredly. "The idea of diamond dogs owning all jewels in the earth flies waaaay over our heads."

"But how?" Rover cocked his head to the side. "Isn't it obvious?"

Soarin' face-hoofed.

"I wish I could say it was," Soarin said. "To be perfectly honest, every time I try to process the concept in my head, I feel dumber. Almost insulted. But..." He sighed. "...if there's anything I've learned about from... the land where I come from—it's that failing to have an open mind leads to nothing but limbo and misery."

"Well, what'ssss the point in doing anything now?!" Spot squealed. "The Hawkeye Pack issss flat broke!"

"Nobody in High Paw resssspectsss ussss anymore!" Rover whimpered. "Our pressstige issss gone thanksss to that awful whiney pony!"

"At leasssst if we had ssssmassshed the negotiationsss with the catapult, we could have gotten back at everyone!" Fido exclaimed.

"How?!" Flash wheezed. "How would ruining the future for both High Paw and Equestria have helped anyone... especially you in your current predicament?"

"Uhhhhhhhhh..." Fido looked blankly at the others. "It... would have felt good to... smassssh things?"

Rover face-pawed with a groan.

"And just how long would you have enjoyed that meager satisfaction until the consequences came back to bite you in the ass?" Flash smirked bitterly. "Seriously—you might as well have voted for Harambe at the Council."

"Okay..." Soarin' grumbled. "...now I've got absolutely no clue what that means."

Flash leaned aside. "Hope you never do," he whispered.

"We get it, pony," Rover muttered. "You are trying to help ussss. I can ssssee that now." He shrugged. "But I really don't ssssee what you and your friend here can do!"

"Maybe you're right," Flash said with a nod. "Maybe we can't do anything." He smirked. "But I know some ponies and dogs who just might." He waved in the general direction of High Paw. "The representatives of your elders and Equestria's elite are just over there. How about approaching them calmly... peacefully... with words instead of boulders?"

"I... uh..." Rover rubbed one of his hind legs sheepishly. "I dunno..."

"Did it feel good to tell us the truth just now?"

"Mmmmm... kind of?"

"Then imagine bringing it before a forum of experts who want peace and prestige for every pack just like you do?"

The trio exchanged glances.

Spot squinted. "Do... you think they will find a way to get ussss back what we've losssst?"

"I don't know. But you're asking the wrong pony." Flash waved. "All I ask is that you have a little bit of faith... just like Soarin' and I showed by coming here and talking to you three." His muzzle curved. "And look how far that's gotten us."

The canines contemplated that. Drawing closer together, the three murmured and whispered in a tight hairy huddle.

Soarin' leaned in towards Flash. "You know... you've got the gift."

"Pffft..." Flash shrugged it off. He talked out the side of his muzzle. "Just being honest and sincere."

"I mean it. Investigation... negotiation... logical deduction..." Soarin' winked. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you'd make a great royal guard someday."

"Please..." Flash rolled his eyes. "Now that's the stupidest thing I've ever head. And I just spent the last hour talking to the Pound Puppies."

Resume

"Please, gentlecol—erm..." Fancy Pants dabbed the sweat on his brow as he gazed across the summit of High Paw. "Gentlecanines. Ahem." He leaned forward with an earnest expression crossing his muzzle. "Can we—at least—establish another date upon which we can reconvene and provide you with a... uhhhh... more appealing proposal?"

The speaker for the elders shook his hairy head. "I'm afraid that won't be possssssssible."

"You heard him, Mr. Pants," Prince Blueblood droned in a tired voice. He rolled his eyes for the umpteenth time since the group arrived. "They've made up their mangy minds about negotiating with ponykind."

"And besides..." Filthy Rich shifted awkwardly. "Fancy, can you even afford another excursion back here? I'd say we should cut our losses and return home to assess the damage."

"But... b-but we have simply come too far to give in to dismay now!" Fancy Pants moaned.

"Dismay has nothing to do with it, friend." Blueblood frowned in the direction of the elder canines and their guards. "These runts are obviously more thick-headed than we imagined."

"Your Eminence..." Fancy Pants sighed.

"We should have brought more royalty with us!" Blueblood muttered, eyes wandering to the Midnight Oil above them. "A single glare from one of the alicorns would surely have convinced the dogs to talk."

"That's not how the princesses do things." Fancy Pants frowned. "You of all stallions should know that."

"Indeed I do." Blueblood bore a wry—albeit brief smirk. "Ever seen Her Majesty's countenance when she arrives at a social function and all the cake is gone from the reception table?"

"Gentlecolts, please!" Filthy Rich trotted past them, facing the diamond dogs with an earnest expression. "There must be a way for us to meet with the Hawkeye Pack... to speak with them face to face and convince them to reconsider their stance with the council!"

"I'm afraid not." The speaker was already growling. "Resssst asssssured, their mindssss are made up... and assss ssssuch, ssssso is the counccccil'ssss. You cannot persssssuade a pack to make changesssss oncccce a deccccissssion issss made."

"They might tell you different," echoed Flash Sentry's voice.

A hushed murmur rolled over the plateau from both canines and equines alike.

Spitfire spun about. Upon seeing the five figures walking up from the cliff's southeast edge, she hovered lower—forming a defensive perimeter along with the rest of the Wonderbolts.

"Brad?" Fancy Pants squinted, craning his neck to get a better look of the arriving party. "Is that you, chap?"

"Yup!" Flash Sentry smiled, giving room for the canine trio from the mountain to walk ahead of him. "And I'm not alone!" He gestured. "Ladies, gentlecolts, and puppies-alike... I present to you the Hawkeye Pack."

"Hey!" Fido grinned from ear to ear, tail-wagging. "We're popular now!" A tiny paw swatted his rump. "Ow!"

"Idiot!" Spot hissed. "Ssssave it for later! We've got work to do!"

"Pleasssse..." Rover grumbled, shouldering his way to the front of the pack. "The quicker we get thisss done, the better."

"Hold on a second!" Spitfire frowned at Flash Sentry. "Where in Equestria did you go? And—more importantly..." She gestured at the three canines. "...where did these mutts come from?"

"Hound Hill," Spot raspily replied. "But don't worry, yellow winged horssse. We're here to talk."

"You... you represent the Hawkeye Pack?!" Fancy Pants stammered.

Blueblood nearly shoved the other unicorn aside, gazing with wide eyes. "Have you reconsidered your vote?!"

"Mmmmmmmmmm... yessss," Rover muttered, making a bee-line for the canine elders. "At leassssst, we are willing to talk about it."

"Could be worsssse!" Fido smiled dumbly. "Jussssst minutessss ago, we were aiming a catapult at you!"

"Shut it!" Spot hissed.

Spitfire did a double-take. "Excuse me?!?"

"Heeeeeeeeeey..." Flash Sentry sweated nervously, waving a hoof. "But it's all gravy now! Look! We talked some sense into them and—"

"All this time, you were threatening us with long-ranged weapons?!" Spitfire fumed. She immediately gestured to her subordinates. "Wonderbolts! Get the ambassadors back aboard the Midnight Oil!"

Filthy Rich gasped. "Captain! Wait—"

"Alert Typhoon!" Spitfire hollered. "We're disembarking at once! It's no longer safe here!"

"We have it under control, Spitfire," Soarin' said. "Let the representatives speak."

"This is a clear and present threat!" Spitfire grunted. "You're out of line—"

"You're out of line!" Soarin' suddenly roared. The authoritative rumble in his voice was something Flash hadn't heard from him before, and the teenager visibly flinched. Soarin' frowned in Spitfire's direction. "I know we're here to protect Equestrian interests, but pulling out now would only be detrimental to that. I'm sorry, Captain, but there will be no disembarking—not until the negotiations are done."

Spitfire blinked. She hovered numbly, as if drained of all menace. "Soarin'—?"

"As I said..." Soarin' cast one final glare as his voice softened slightly without losing the firmness. "We have it under control." He looked towards the three ambassadors. "Your Eminence, are you still prepared to speak to the representatives of High Paw?"

Blueblood exchanged glances with Filthy Rich and Fancy Pants. The three stallions collectively smiled in Soarin's direction. "That we are. Much appreciated."

Soarin' nodded back. He looked at Spitfire.

Spitfire clenched her jaw... sighed... and muttered aside to her fellow wingmates: "Remain on guard. All eyes on the ambassadors at all times." She threw a shrill whistle towards the Midnight Oil high above. "How about we get some tents down here?! Huh?! Move it!"

By then, Rover and his two companions had reached the elders. The diamond dogs of High Paw engaged in a quiet, sincere huddle, murmuring intensely with one another. Flash Sentry watched as Fancy Pants and his partners drew together in similar preparation.

A yellow shape streaked in Flash Sentry's peripheral. He turned to see Spitfire drifting past him. The mare threw him a death glare, then squinted similarly at Soarin'. Upon receiving a calm, friendly look from Soarin' in return, the Captain of the Wonderbolts let loose a raspy sigh and zipped off to patrol the plateau from a higher altitude.

Soarin' flexed his wing muscles and stood tall, stalwart.

Flash leaned in. "I bet that felt good on some level."

Soarin's nostrils flared. "Perhaps." He gulped. "But a good part of me still feels like shit."

Flash nodded. "Welcome to real life."

"Mmmm..." Soarin' spoke out the side of his muzzle. "Still, good work."

"Yeah, well..." Flash smirked as he stared at the proceedings. "You're a friggin' spotlight-stealer."

"Heheheheh."

"Hahaha..."

Balls

An hour had passed. The waning afternoon turned into darkening evening. In the meantime, several members of the Wonderbolts had transported a series of canvas tents down from the Midnight Oil. They erected a "meeting station" in the center of the plateau where Fancy Pants, Filthy Rich, and Prince Blueblood could speak face-to-face with the elders... including the elusive members of the Hawkeye Pack.

As it was getting dark, the canines of High Paw kindled multiple bonfires around the site. It lit up the populace's beastly bodies as they gradually came out of hiding. Flash Sentry observed them from a distance, shuffling around like awkward bipeds in various forms of partial dress: vests, bandoliers, overalls and the like. They spoke with one another like humans. Some of them laughed and chuckled. Most of them—however—kept weary eyes and ears trained on the meetings going underway. What mattered was that none of them seemed on edge any more, and as the second hour progressed, Flash noticed more and more canines coming out of hiding... as if the hidden populace of High Paw was growing less and less apprehensive about the presence of magical prancing horse people.

Flash wasn't close enough to listen in on the blossoming negotiations between both groups of ambassadors. Instead, he stood upon the fringes of the bonfires' flickering light. Not that far from him—hovering in the shadows—were two wonderbolts. At the moment, the teenager was far more interested in what they had to say than anypony in Fancy Pants' group. With a certain degree of stealth, Flash Sentry sidestepped until his fuzzy ears could make out the faint echo of Soarin's and Spitfire's conversation.

"...simply figured it was necessary to salvage all future negotiations."

"I understand that, Soarin'—"

"If we exhibit the same fear and distrust as the diamond dogs, then Blueblood and his associates will never make any progress. That's why we absolutely could not pull out. To do so would have wasted the special opportunity we have here with the Hawkeyes."

"Well, so far so good. The council seems willing to talk now. Perhaps willing to change their mind."

"Exactly what I mean, Spitfire."

"But I still don't like the fact that—just hours before—those same mutts were planning to crush the Prince and his partners to glue."

"Not like they were going to have any success in the matter. They're... not exactly the smartest bunch, Spitfire."

"Doesn't matter. It's still a breach of our trust. And you wandering off without a word? Breaking defensive formation to do unplanned reconaissance? That's a breach of trust too. Our trust."

"I'm sorry for that, Captain."

"Nevertheless, it did single-hoofedly save the outcome of this entire expedition. Well done, Soarin'."

"I appreciate it."

"However... if you ever... ever usurp my authority again—in front of the rest of our wingmates, no less—I'll personally see to it that your balls are stapled to the ramparts of Canterlot for all of Equestria to see. Do I make myself clear?"

"Crystal, Captain."

"Good. But don't get me wrong, Soarin'. It's... strangely relieving that you actually have balls for me to find."

"... ... ...Captain?"

"You showed some guts earlier. For all we knew, I could have bucked your face in and splattered your teeth all over High Paw for challenging my authority. If you ask me, that took more courage than talking down the diamond dogs from a catapult."

"I... don't know what to say, Captain..."

"Aaaaaaaand there they disappear again. Hmmmf. Guess you're the same old Soarin'."

"I am—as always—your loyal wingpony."

"Yeah. I know that, Soarin'. I know."

Flash Sentry blinked. He noted a breathy tone of exasperation in Spitfire's last utterance. Almost melancholic. Before he had a chance to dwell on that—

Spitfire rasped: "This Brad punk. He talked you into snooping out the Hawkeyes, didn't he?"

Flash craned his neck.

He heard Soarin' reply: "Brad... noticed the presence of the Hawkeyes. It was his idea to approach them peacefully and talk some sense into him."

"Soooo... basically this was his idea from the start? Going against orders and disappearing without a trace?"

"I was Brad's self-appointed chaperone the entire time. As the second-highest ranked wonderbolt present, I take full responsibility for everything that took place on Hound Hill."

"Your accountability in the matter is acknowledged. Nevertheless, do you think it's wise to... follow along with this kid's random whim without questioning it?"

"Captain...?"

"I... have a funny feeling about that pegasus. He doesn't seem quite like the rest of us. I think there's more to him than what Fancy Pants insinuates. He's not just some normal outsider."

"He does have an interesting way of looking at things, Spitfire. That much I'll admit."

"You seem to be getting all chummy with the squirt. You would—of course—tell me if you found out anything about him that would be a threat to this expedition?"

Silence.

At last, Soarin' spoke: "If I discover anything alarming, you'll be the first one to know."

More silence.

Flash clenched his jaw muscles, resisting the urge to shiver.

"Very well, Soarin'. I'm off to patrol the perimeter. In the meantime... lay low. Stay within earshot of the negotiations."

"Aye, Captain."

"Dismissed."

Decency

Flash Sentry composed himself by the time that Soarin' drifted over. He stood by a boulder or two, pretending to be absorbed in the meeting underneath the tent several feet away.

"You suppose they're making any progress?" Flash quipped.

"I don't know," Soarin' remarked, coiling his wings by his uniformed sides. "Thanks to you, there's a chance for actual, legitimate hope." He breathed in the evening air, squinting through the dim descent of night. "Fancy Pants' enthusiasm—once nearly squelched—is now alive and burning again. That should carry the conversation somewhere in everyone's favor. A certain distance, anyway."

Flash nodded. "You suppose the... uh... Hawkeye Pack will find a proposal they'll agree on?"

"Maybe. They seemed pretty convinced about our good-will after our conversation."

Silence.

Flash bit his bottom lip. "Are you... uhhhh... gonna be crucified by Spitfire?"

Soarin' threw him a crooked glanced. "'Crucified?'"

"Y'know..." Flash smiled crookedly. "Where they flog you, nail you to a cross, wait for you to die... then three hundred years later some emperor legalizes a religion in your name?"

"I'm... afraid I don't follow."

"It's okay. Most don't. Even when they think they do."

"I will be fine, Flash," Soarin' insisted. "You don't have to worry about me and Spitfire... if that's what you're rambling on about."

"You sure, dude?" Flash arched an eyebrow. "She's a tough cookie. I'm talking tougher than Windmill Cookies."

"Heh..." Soarin' smirked slightly. "She's learned to trust me in even hairier times than this. I don't think this moment's gonna end up any different."

"Things sounded more than 'hairy' just a moment ago," Flash muttered. "Felt more like porcupine quills in the ear."

"Ehhhh... her bark is worse than her bite. I swear—she growls and hisses all the time just to practice for the act of chewing out cadets."

"And you're... cool with this?"

"Hey." Soarin' shrugged. "It wouldn't be Spitfire if she wasn't caustic about everything."

"Just her style, huh?"

"More or less. Good wing. Bad wing."

"You two must have it all down pat."

"She's the authoritative one," Soarin' said, glancing down at the stone surface of the plateau. "I'd be pretty aimless without her."

"Get out of town, dude. Face it. She needs you."

"Hmmmmmm..." Soarin' hummed through smiling lips. He kicked at a pebble or two. "I know what I know. She knows what she knows. Together... we're a great team."

"Totally. I get that now." Flash nodded. Flash sighed. Flash remarked: "Soooooooo... as a team member, I bet she's expecting you to report on all things otherworldly and weird."

Soarin's jaw clenched.

Flash gulped. "I'm tickled pink, bro... but you had every reason to tell your commanding officer what I just told you."

"Why?" Soarin' glanced over. "Is there a reason for us to feel threatened?"

"No. I just..." Flash sighed, slumping slightly where he stood. "...don't... w-want you getting burned because you put your neck out for me."

"When the time came, and you felt ready..." Soarin' squinted at the other stallion. "Would you tell Spitfire the truth?"

Flash was silent.

"Just for sincerity's sake."

"I... guess." Flash sighed. "If it's that important." He sighed harder.

Soarin' noticed. He asked: "Is it?"

"No. I mean yes. I mean..." Flash ran a hoof through his blue bangs. "I... suppose it's only natural that it happen sooner than later. After all..." He smiled bashfully. "You're the second pony who knows..."

"... ... ...that you're not from this world?" Soarin' suggested.

Flash nodded.

"Well... wh-who's the first?"

"A mare I met back in Ponyville. Sweet pers—er... pony. Really talented and has a love for music."

"I see." Soarin' nodded. "Did it help to tell her?"

"Kinda, yeah."

"...did it help to tell me?"

"Well, to be fair, man..." Flash looked squarely at Soarin'. "I haven't told you much."

"That could change."

"... ... ..."

Soarin' held up both hooves with an innocent expression. "I promise not to tell Spitfire or anypony else unless you want me to."

"You sure you're willing to carry such a burden?"

"I don't think the weight's all on me, bro."

Flash bit his lip.

Soarin' took a breath and calmly asked: "Exactly what is a... 'hoo-mahn being' anyways?"

Flash giggled.

Soarin' raised an eyebrow.

"It's human. Human!" Flash smiled. "Jeez-Louise. You don't have to pronounce it like a friggin' Ferengi, dude."

"Are Ferengies other creatures who live in your world?"

"What? No!" Flash spat. "They're a made-up—mmmmm!" He face-hoofed, calmed, and spoke in a soft tone. "Humans are the only creatures living in my world who can speak and... y'know... build a civilization." He coughed. "For what it's worth."

"What are they like?" Soarin' asked, his voice full of foalish curiosity.

"Well, we're like you," Flash said. "Only... uhm... we stand upright, pay taxes, and wear clothes."

"Well, ponies wear clothes," Soarin' remarked.

"Yeah but—like—we do it all the time." He blinked. "Except on certain beaches that my uncle's been to."

"What for?"

"Pffft. I dunno. I've never been to Miami."

"No, I mean..." Soarin' glanced at his uniform, then at Soarin's lack of clothing. "Why wear clothing all the time? Do you live in a military state?"

"No."

"Are there Galloping Galas every day?"

"...the Hell is a Galloping Gala?"

Soarin' chuckled. "Seems like an awful lot of trouble to go through all the time."

"We have to, man!"

"What for?"

"Because... it... I-I dunno!" Flash shrugged. "Humans have more dangly parts than ponies." He blinked into the darkening horizon. "Except when we don't. Then it's... kinda awesome not to wear clothes."

"I think you're confusing me even more when you're trying to explain stuff."

"It's about common decency," Flash said. "You wouldn't—like—fart in somepony's face, would you?"

"What?" Soarin' grimaced. "Goddess, no!"

"Well, a few tiers below that is... adhering to no nudity!" Flash smiled. "It's considered polite and respectful not to expose yourself to other human beings. Plus—we're not nearly as fuzzy as ponies. Sooooo... uhhhh... clothing protects us from the elements more."

"Now that's very interesting."

"If you say so."

"And your hooves," Soarin' remarked, craning his neck curiously. "Do you wear shoes on only half your limbs since you walk upright?"

"Mnghhhhhh..." Flash sighed into his fetlock. "...this is going to take a while."

Humenz

"So, we call our planet Earth."

"Oh yeah? So do we."

"Whoah, really? You don't call it... like... 'Horsie Horse Ball?'"

"No. We don't."

"You sure?"

"Flash..."

"Ahem. Right. Moving on. Planet Earth! The world where I'm from—is... like... four and a half billion years old. A bunch of different animals have lived on this planet. Homo sapiens—that is human beings, us... er... me and all the other me's—have lived on Earth for maybe a few... million years? Way less than a billion, that's for sure. And intelligent civilization didn't start until... uhhhhhh... twenty-to-forty thousand years ago. But nothing was really written or recorded until about ten thousand years ago. Soooooo... in the grand scheme of things, we're pretty darn green. Some people believe we're even younger than all that—like six thousand years of existing since the Garden of Eden or whatever. Then there are people who'll swear we didn't start living until the day after Steve Jobs invented the first iPod. You keeping up, Soarin?"

"Uhhhhhhh..."

"Anywho... humans got ahead in life cuz we have opposable thumbs. Do you know what an opposable thumb is?"

"Yes. Minotaurs, centaurs, griffons, pre-pubescent dragon hatchlings, the Storm King and his minions, and the legendary Ahuizotl all possess opposable thumbs—although the lattermost's thumb is located in his tail."

"... ... ..."

"Are you 'homo sapiens' the only creatures from your world with opposable thumbs? I'm... not sure how that explains your rapid ascent into intelligent civilization."

"Okay. Forget the thumb thing. Turns out we humans are really good at inventing stuff."

"Ah. That works."

"We made irrigation, calendars, sailing ships, printing presses, and the integrated circuit. Although... on the other hand... we also invented guns, nuclear weapons, land mines, and Justin Bieber. Soooooo... there's been more than a few bumps along the way."

"Sounds like humans have been very busy at creating things."

"Uh huh. At least the things we can patent and trademark."

"You must be very proficient in magic to get it all done."

"Ha! That's just the thing, Soarin. There is no magic in my world."

"No magic?"

"Nope!"

"None at all?"

"Not a spark—well... there have been some examples of freaky magic stuff happening. Especially lately."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. Because of the portal that connects our two worlds. Lots of... uhhhh... second-hand Equestrian razzle-dazzle seeps on through and sorta... royally messes things up around where I go to school. Heh... makes me look forward to the weekends extra harder."

"That's unfortunate. I'm sorry."

"Pfffft. Not your fault, dude."

"Also... there's a portal now?"

"... ... ...you don't know about it?"

"Is there a reason why I should?"

"Well, you're a Wonderbolt! I figured you dudes were like the FBI with wings! Back in Ponyville, the locals have caught rumor of the portal existing. It's how I was able to easily explain things to... y'know... my other friend."

"The other pony who knows that you're 'Flash Sentry' and not 'Brad.'"

"Right."

"I can't say that I've heard of a 'portal,' bro. Spitfire's never briefed us on such a thing. But... it doesn't really surprise me that one exists."

"Oh?"

"Pffft. Anything's possible in Equestria. We live in a magical world. Well... I do."

"Hah. Must be easy to pass things off all the time."

"You seriously don't have magic in your world?"

"Nope."

"None whatsoever?"

"I... guess there are people where I come from who will vouch for miracles. Y'know... divine providence and the like. But... eh... I've not experienced any personally. I've never been much of a religious type anyways..."

"But... without magic... how do you get anything done? How do you cure diseases? How do you get around? How do you even fly?"

"With airplanes. For the flying part—I mean. We also have automobiles for getting around... and trains... and hoverboards—not the type we were promised in Back to the Future, granted, but we invented them anyways. Humans get bored easily, you see. Heh."

"So... it's all technology?"

"A-and common sense! And camraderie. And also a mutual desire for liberty and comfort for everyone... ehhh... when it m-matters."

"I'm just... trying to wrap my head around it..."

"Dude. I've been in your Equestria for two days and still I just... I-I just can't deal, bro!"

"What's so strange about it? We use magic to raise the sun and moon and keep the seasons in check. The world rolls on! Happy and healthy!"

"Heeheehee..."

"... ... ...anypony tell you that you giggle like a teenager?"

"Because I am a teenager, Soarin."

"Uhhhhh—"

"Anyways, on Earth we don't do anything to affect the sun and moon."

"You don't?"

"Nope. Earth is stuck in a heliocentric rotation around our solar system's central star."

"Your... it... h-huh?"

"Aaaaaaand our earth rotates super quickly. Because of that, the sun appears to rise and set within a twenty-four hour period. But the reality is that our planet is constantly moving and spinning—just like the rest of the stuff in our solar system... in the observable universe on the whole, really."

"But... that's... that's..."

"Am I going to fast?"

"Ahem... how about sticking to just hoo-mahns... I mean 'humans.' My bad."

"So, yeah. We like building stuff. Whether we like it or not, technology is always improving. While it makes life way better... it also makes life more complicated. Also it takes a heck of a lot of resources to allow our technology to continue to work. Sooooooo... unlike this place—Equestria, I mean—Earth is being stripped of the available stuff to make technology accessible far too swiftly for it all to be handled."

"Meaning?"

"We're... kinda messing things up for the planet. Well, not kinda. We are royally screwing our planet up... and Earth is nowhere nearly as clean and pristine as Equestria. Trust me."

"Then why haven't you... haven't humans changed the way of things or slowed it all down?"

"It's more profitable to keep going at the pace we've set for ourselves."

"More profitable?"

"I... guess? Guh... I'm sorry, Soarin. Looks like I've picked a less-than-savory subject matter when it comes to humans."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be—"

"How about you tell me some things about humans that you're proud of!"

Bro

Flash Sentry blinked.

He stared silently past the sterile reaches of High Paw... past the fuzzy and furry figures huddled around the nearby negotiating tents... past the dark hull of the Midnight Oil looming against the gray veil of evening.

Soarin gazed at the visiting stallion. The Wonderbolt raised an eyebrow below his resting goggles.

At long last... after a full minute of silence... Flash Sentry opened his muzzle...

...and he hesitated again.

Hooves shifted. Fetlocks flexed and unflexed. A tail flicked, flicked again, and was limp once more.

Silence.

Soarins lips pursed. Eventually, he breathed: "You... can't think of a single thing? Something about humans that you're proud of?"

Flash winced. His eyes wondered... did a full halo... then twitched slightly. Just then—with a gasp—he turned and grinned squarely at the older stallion. "We've got Jackie Chan!"

"... ... ..."

"I mean... pffft..." Flash Sentry rolled his eyes. "Of course there are plenty of things to be proud of where I come from! It's not all ugly, y'know!" He chuckled—more like wheezed—and fumbled with his blue bangs while his eyes searched the plateau behind Soarin once again. "It's not all cruel diplomacy... heartless capitalism... asshole m-media..." He gulped hard. "...and hopeless futures..."

Soarin was silent. He merely cocked his head to the side and waited... listened...

In a meager tone, Flash eventually delivered: "There are nice people... nice humans. Really, Soarin, there are. Benevolent leaders... charity volunteers... wise people... kind people... generous people." He cleared his throat. "Doctors. Nurses. Missionaries. Rescue workers. Mentors. Neighbors."

"Friends?"

"... ... ..." Flash bit his lip.

Soarin leaned back, inhaling slowly.

"I've... j-just not really been... mmmm..." Flash fidgeted a bit more. "...in a place to pay attention to it all. Or... b-believe in it." He clenched his jaw tight after that.

After a while, Soarin lowered his head, eyes peering like a sympathetic uncle's. "It was something about all of this that brought you back, wasn't it?"

Flash was silent. He looked to the right...

"Or perhaps..." Soarin smiled knowingly. "...something to do with Girl Number One?"

Flash looked to the left... ...

Soarins brow furrowed. "... ... ...or maybe Girl Number Two?"

At that, Flash's nostrils flared. When he looked back at Soarin, it was with a vulnerable expression. "Honestly, Soarin? I pretty much stumbled here in search for Boy Number One."

"...?!" Soarin leaned back, ears pricked like daggers.

"... ... ..." Flash's entire muzzle hardened. His teeth showed: "I'm talking about ME."

"Of course!" Soarins eyes rolled. "Tch—bro, I KNEW that."

"Good. Glad you know that."

"I do know that."

"I know that you know that."

"Great."

"Super great."

Awkward, pregnant silence.

Both stallions casually scraped the opposite horizons with squirmy pupils.

At last, it was Soarin who cleared his throat and dared to speak: "Do... you think you've come any close to finding yourself?"

"I..." Flash sighed, hanging his head. "...I dunno."

"Annnnnd..." Soarin glanced up at the stars above. "...in the meantime... you've just sorta been... wingin' it... huh?"

"Mmmmmmmm... yeahhhhhh..."

"And all this business back in Ponyville and cosying up to the likes of Filthy and Fancy and helpin' with the expedition—?"

"I-I just wanna do the right thing!" Flash blurted.

Soarin raised an eyebrow.

"I... I want to be nice for a change..." Flash insisted. He adjusted the weight of Vinyl's headphones over his neck and exhaled heavily out his nostrils. "I-I wanna be of good use to somebody."

"You can't do that sort of thing back home?" Soarin asked in an innocent tone. "You can't be of good use around your fellow humans?"

A sound rattled beneath Flash's throat—close to a growl. "It's a lot easier making others happy here."

Soarin lifted his head. "Oh?"

Flash was silent.

After a while, Soarin nodded and said, "Well, I think you're a good pony, Flash." He smiled ever so slightly. "A good human pony."

Flash looked at him suddenly. There was a noticeable gloss to his eyes.

"Maybe—if you ever do find 'Boy Number One'—" Soarin winked. "—you can tell him that for me."

Flash exhaled. A chuckle escaped his muzzle... or perhaps it was a giggle. He smiled sideways, raising a hoof. "Bro..."

SWOOOSH! Spitfire flew in thunderously, hovering above the two with a glare that pierced the shadows. "Heads up, ya frilly ladies." Her head pivoted slightly. "And Mr. Brad."

"Heh..." Soarin rolled his eyes. "...cute."

"I mean it." Spitfire pointed towards the tents. "Things are coming to a head. Stay alert in case it all goes south."

Soarin and Flash Sentry tuned into the conversation at the negotiation tables...

Compensation

"And ssssssssssso..." An elder canine leaned on a walking stick, staring through the lanternlight at the ponies gathered on the opposite end of a negotiating table. "It would ssssssseem that the illusssstriousss memberssss of the Hawkeye Pack have formulated their requessssst..."

Soarin, Spitfire, and Flash Sentry crept upon the fringes of the star-bathed tents. Watching the scene with tense eyes, Flash silently craned his neck, waiting for a response from his fellow acquaintances at the meeting.

Fancy Pants and Filthy Rich suddenly stirred, as if roused from near-sleep at this point during the proceedings. Prince Blueblood—however—remained standing tall and stately as ever. "Very well..." The stallion gestured with a regal hoof. "What is your proposal?"

"Not a proposssssal, ssssshiny pony!" Rover slapped his paw—whap!—across a stretch of maps and glared across the table through his slitted eyes. "It'sssssss a demand!"

The Wonderbolt members shifted cautiously while on guard.

Blueblood rolled his eyes, sighed, and spoke through a tired smile. "Call it what you like. I'm all ears."

"OooOOooOOoooh!" Spot climbed up Fido's shoulders so he could reach over and scratch the back of Rover's neck. "That'ssssssssss our Alpha! Sssssssssshow them a pup'ssss place!"

"Pony," Fido belched.

"Er! Right! I meant 'pony's place'!"

"AHEM!" Rover coughed loudly, making the other two Hakweyes flinch. Then—with a fanged grin—he folded his beefy forelimbs and squinted at his equine familiars. "The Hawkeye Pack issssss in dire need of new digging groundsssss to make homessss in. We've had our eyessssssss on Sssssssweet Pine Ssssssniff Valley for quite ssssome time now!"

Filthy Rich cocked his head aside. "Sweet Pine... Sn-sniff what now?"

"Ssssssssssssweet Pine Sssssssssniff Valley!" Spot hopped up and down, squeaking. "Don't you ssssssmarty sssssmart poniessss speak caninese?!?"

"Rrrrgh!" Rover shoved Spot away, not once wrenching his angry glare from the three pony spokestallions. "The only reasssssson the Hawkeye Pack hasssssn't already dug our way into Sssssssweet Pine Ssssssniff Valley issss becaussssse a bunch of foolisssssh poniesss have made their homessss there! Digging there would mean butting headsssss with your kind and that would make thingssssss very ssssstresssssfull for High Paw!"

"Yeah!" Fido raised a claw, grinning wetly. "And alsssssso we didn't want to hear the poniesssss' awful whining by kicking them out on our own!"

"Guhhhh..." Rover groaned into his own paw. "I ssssssswear... the doctorssss fixed the wrong endssss on the both of you!"

Spot blinked. "She did?!"

"I'm... afraid you have us at a disadvantage," Blueblood stammered.

"Yes, my fine hairy chap. Would you care to explain?" Fancy Pants leaned forward, adjusting his monocle. "Just... where exactly is this 'Sweet Pine Sniff Valley?'"

"Sssssoutheasssst of here!"

Filthy Rich sighed. "Care to be specific?" He pointed at the table. "The map, for instance..."

"Bah!" Rover tossed his arms and spat at the parchment. "Like you can expect a dog to undersssssstand a prissssssy pony map!"

"Ahem..." An elder canine leaned in and tapped a particular spot on the map with his cane-tip. "About hereaboutssssss... two dirt moundsss south of the wessssternmossssst edge of what you ponies call the 'Scorpan Mountain Range.'"

"Oh... uhhhh..." The alpha Hawkeye rubbed the back of his neck, smiling awkwardly. "I knew th-that!"

"Ah. Let's see here..." Fancy Pants leaned over, studying the spot on the map. "Scorpan Mountain Range... two clicks south... forest... forest... an open valley—Ah! There it is!" Just then, Fancy Pants gasped dramatically, his monocle flying right off. "Good heavens! Galloping Green?! Princess Celestia in the shower!!!" Suddenly, Fancy Pants was brandishing the first frown Flash had ever seen on the otherwise gentlemanly stallion. "OUT OF THE QUESTION!!!"

"Guh!" Blueblood legitimately shook, inching a bit away from his business partner. "Mr. Pants! What in Tartarus is the matter—?!"

"These slobbering ingrates want to take away my Galloping Green! That's what's the bloody matter!"

Filthy Rich blinked crookedly. "Do ya mean your fancy schmancy golf resort?"

Blueblood grimaced. "Golf Resort?!"

"It's more than that!" Fancy Pants' nostrils flared... then flared again. "It's a retreat for lucrative business partners coming from far and wide! Not to mention it has the second largest convention hall situated in all of my Equestrian properties! And I happen to like the view from the third story western balcony there!" He slapped a hoof down, his collar shuffling off-balance. "I've invested far too many bits into that luxurious property over the years to... to... mrmmm shovel it off to tail-chasing brutes!"

"Hrmmmfff!" Rover folded his forelimbs again, then tilted his hairy neck up with an indignant frown. "Well—the Hawkeye Pack wantssssss thossssse digging groundssss! If you can't give them up, then you'll not get any of our cryssssstalline jewellssss! Your imperialissst pony friendssss will jusssst have to dig up ssssssome of their own!" His slitted eyes casually scraped the canvas of the tent directly above, and he lost a smidgen of his surly resolve. "Oh! Ssssay! I can look up!"

"Woof?" Fido followed his eyes.

"Ruff!" Spot too.

"Grrrrrrrgh! This is ridiculous!" Fancy Pants huffed and puffed. "As if I haven't suffered enough expense in coming here—only to be rebuffed by these mangy Hawkeyes' anarchist stubbornness—just to be yanked by the proverbial junkyard chain yet again!"

"Hah! Typical pony ssssself-centerednesssss!" Rover smirked bitterly at the unicorn. "You do realize that—in the eyessssssss of usssss diamond dogssssss—the Ssssssweet Pine Sssssssniff Valley hasssss alwayssssss belonged to ussss! And yet we chossssse not to take issssssue with the poniessss who built their junk there until now! If we can sssssslink so low to actually assssssssssk you poniesssssss to make room, then sssssssssurely you poniessss can ssssslink too!"

"He has a point there, Fancy, pard'ner," Filthy Rich muttered out the side of his muzzle.

"Why of all the—?!" Fancy Pants threw him a wild look. "I beg your pardon?!"

"Mr. Pants..." Blueblood placed a heavy hoof on Fancy Pant's shoulder and pulled him closer. He leaned in with a calm smile. "...you thought you had all this in the bag, didn't you?"

"With a glittering bow on top!" Fancy Pants stammered.

"How long have you been in business? Twenty years? Thirty?" Blueblood straightened Fancy's collar for him. "I'm the seventy-eighth Blueblood in my family line. If you haven't learned by now, then let me teach you what I grew up learning: the concessions you make in life to forge progress cannot be always afforable. As if that's even a concern for you..."

"Uhhhhh..."

"A golf course? Really?" Blueblood raised an eyebrow. "If I knew such a paltry thing could get you in such a tussel, I'd have teased you about it minutes after we took off on the Midnight Oil."

"But you don't understand—"

"Oh, but I do understand." Blueblood picked Fancy Pants' monocle back up and placed it on the mustache'd stallion's face. "Trust me. Give it up, friend. In exchange... we gain an opportunity to win the favor of these would-be canine capitalists... not to mention the trust and faith of the Crystal Empire in turn. You said it yourself! The possiblity for financial and cultural gain here is endless!"

"I... I know..." Fancy Pants gulped. "But... but... Galloping Greens! Everypony who is everypony goes there to golf!"

"Fancy..." Filthy Rich leaned in with bored eyes. "I don't golf at any of your places."

Fancy blinked at the other entrepeneur with hurt eyes. "You don't?"

Filthy shook his head. "No. The grass on your grounds is... far too bitter for my taste."

Fancy sighed inwardly. "Well, my good fellow, if perhaps you spent less time grazing and more time practicing your driving neck—"

"AHEM..." Blueblood patted Fancy Pants' shoulder even harde.r "Mr. Pants, I do believe you are missing Mr. Rich's point. It may seem like a heavy price now, but I do believe you're the only creature on this mesa—or in all of Equestria—who seems to care so badly about it."

"You're the one who's always barkin' at us to keep a level-head," Filthy said. He briefly winced, then smiled at the canine pack leaders. "No offense intended, y'all."

Rover shrugged. "Yiff."

"So... how about it?" Blueblood asked one last time.

Fancy Pants weathered a long, exasperated sigh. He straightened his mane while glancing aside. "I... could very easily redistribute most of my assets. The only remaining problem is... what to do with the resort clientele."

"You'll find out a way to keep them employed," Blueblood said. "You're a considerate stallion like that."

"Hrmmmmmm..." Fancy Pants rubbed his white chin, slowly forming a smile. "I suppose I could buy out that resort in Fillyda that I had my heart set on." He blinked at the others. "Have you chaps ever heard of 'Mare-a-Largo?'"

Filthy Rich coughed. "Caaaaaaaan we talk to them slobberin' dogs again?"

"Yes. Although..." Prince Blueblood winked at Fancy Pants. "Perhaps it would be for the best if I did the talking."

"Yes." Fancy Pants leaned back with a humble breath and an even humbler smile. "That it would."

"Right." Blueblood turned, cleared his throat, and approached the Hawkeyes across the bargaining table. "After speaking closely with my associates, we have agreed..." He stood tall and resolute. "...that your proposal—"

"Demand!"

"Yes, that." Blueblood looked at Rover specifically. "It is most satisfactory."

"You mean..." Rover leaned forward with beaming eyeslits. "...you'll let usssssss dig up Sssssssweet Pine Sssssssssniff Valley?!"

"In exchange..." Blueblood leaned his head forward, adding an assertive glare. "...for the crystalline jewels. Is that understood? You'll get land for the precious gems that will assist the crystal ponies to the north. For the love of diplomacy, let us not complicate things any further, yes?"

Rover, Spot, and Fido exchanged glances.

Flash Sentry, Soarin, and Spitfire craned their necks, watching in tense silence.

At long last, Rover formed a fist and punched the tabletop. "It isssss a deal, sssssshiny pony!" Several of the canines behind him yipped and howled.

Fancy Pants and Filthy Rich exhaled with relief.

"Your chatty friend who foiled our catapult plan wassssss right!" Rover grinned, dirty teeth showing. "We can get thingsssss done by talking!"

"Yeah!" Spot climbed halfway up Rover's body to be seen by the other negotiators. "And we promisssse not to give you the crysssstalline jewellsssss we wiped our buttssss with—Whoah!"

Rover finished tossing Spot to the mesa's surface. Th-Thud! "Pay no attention to hisssss talk though!" Rover tittered nervously. "He'sssss not alpha Hawkeye!"

"I can tell." Smiling, Blueblood held his hoof out straight before the canine. "A pleasure doing business, friend."

Rover blinked at the Prince's fetlock. He scratched his head, shrugged at his familiars, then leaned in to give the hoof a longgggggggggg slobbbbbbering lickkkkkkkkkk.

Blueblood winced heavily.

Almost immediately, Spot and Fido leaned in to mimic their leader's gesture, quadrupling the layers of drool coating Blueblood's trembling leg.

"Grmmm... gnnnghhh... hhhhhtttt..." Blueblood struggled to cork in an effeminate whimper.

Filthy Rich leaned in with a smirk. "Way to bridge cultural gaps there, buddy."

Fancy Pants leaned in with a smirkier smirk. "Bet you're quite happy to be doing the talking, hmmm?"

"Hmmmmmmmmm..." Prince Blueblood leaned back from the table, cradling his soiled limb. He looked up, smiling awkwardly at the canine packs gathered in the lanternlight. "Would it be too much trouble to ask if your civilization has invented a vomit bag yet?"

Success

A hot air balloon rose swiftly, then slowed until it hovered parallel to the Midnight Oil's port side.

Captain Typhoon signaled to his crew. With a clatter of hooves, various uniformed stallions extended a plank to the balloon's basket. One by one, Filthy Rich, Fancy Pants, and Prince Blueblood walked across and came on board.

Typhoon calmly studied each stallion's face as they trotted onto the deck. At last, he came face to face with a smugly smiling Fancy Pants. "I take it... things went well?"

"Not at first, but in the end..." Fancy Pants' teeth glistened. "...we have made a most fortuitous agreement!"

The Captain merely nodded, humming. "Hmmmm... a successful meeting, then?"

"Oh, come now, ol' chap..." Fancy Pants poked Typhoon's chest, winking. "You never had faith in this endeavor. Must you stifle your surprise so?"

Typhoon sighed, readjusting his collar. "I simply desire to know about our next engagement."

"Ready the cargo bay!" Prince Blueblood delcared bombastically into the night air. "Thanks to the Hawkeye Pack, the diamond dogs have already agreed to give us a meager shipment of crystalline jewels to bring to the Imperialists as a sign of good faith!"

"Ah. I see." Typhoon nodded. "Then our next course—"

"Will be due north!" Blueblood jubilantly stated, trotting across the deck. "First thing tomorrow morning after the canines have supplied us!" He struck a proud pose. "I can't wait to see the look on my distant cousin's face as we tell her that we've acquired the keys to pulling the Empire into the Equestrian Union!"

"Uncle! Uncle!" Tiny scampering hooves announced Canterloy's presence. The young prince galloped across the deck, leapt, and clung to the older monarch's hoof. "You did it! I just knew you would own these mangy beast peasants!"

"Euuuuuuuuhhhh..." Blueblood winced, trying to shake Canterloy off. "Don't hug that forelimb, my little cherub! Tr-trust me!"

All of this—Flash Sentry observed from where he hovered parallel to the Midnight Oil's port side. Stifling a yawn, he touched down—perching on the airship's railing. "Well... guess that's all she wrote on that, huh?"

"Got a mite bit rocky for a moment there," Filthy Rich replied, trotting into view. "But we made a good turn of things, Brad, my boy." A grin and a wink. "Now for phase two."

"Phase... Two...?" Flash Sentry blinked. "I... I-I thought that we were—y'know—returning to Equestria now that the diplomacy's done."

"Oh, we are returning to Equestria," Filthy Rich said. "Future Equestria... that is..."

Flash Sentry was fighting a long day of drowsiness at this point. He smacked himself in the skull—causing Vinyl Scratch's headphones to rattle. "I'm afraid I don't follow."

"Once the Diamond Dogs give us a small sampling of crystalline jewels, we'll be taking it to the third party of this benevolent exchange."

Flash Sentry's ears twitched. "... ... ...Jill Stein?"

Filthy left out a brief, bold guffaw before shaking his head. "The Crystal Empire, my boy! We're heading to the Crystal Empire!"

"Crystal... Empire...?" Flash Sentry murmured. He felt his tail flick behind him with unknown excitement at the name. "Sounds... flashy."

"And it's about to get a whole lot flashier!" Fancy Pants trotted up. "Thanks to you, Brad." He smiled aside. "And also thanks to some level-headed businessponies who were kind enough to salvage the negotiations whe the time came."

"Don't sell yourself so short, Mr. Pants."

"Ironically, that's precisely what I'm doing!" Fancy Pants sighed briefly. "With... the axing of Galloping Greens. Ahem..." He straightened his collar and regained a proud smirk. "But—I am purely convinced—it is completely worth it to make sure the Crystal Imperialists receive their long overdue reward!"

"These..." Flash Sentry twisted his muzzle to produce the redundant words: "....crystalline jewels are really gonna help them prosper and such?"

"Most indubitably! Prince Blueblood already promised that we would provide the two stewards with a sample of the resources they would be gaining from this venture!" Fancy Pants grinned. "And—in return—they and the denizens of the Crystal Empire would throw a celebration to announce their pledge to join the rest of the Nation of Equestria!"

"Wowsers..." Flash smiled dumbly. "It's like the Klingons joining the Federation!"

"Ehh... erhm..." Fancy Pants blinked. "What?"

"Ohhhhhhhh Brad..." Filthy Rich merely chuckled, slapping Fancy's shoulders.

Fancy grasped his monocle before it could fall to the wooden deckplates. "Yes, well, colorful analogies aside..." He smiled again. "This is the start of a new golden age of Equestrian prosperity!"

"Not to mention interspecies cultural integration!" Filthy Rich declared.

"Indeed. It's a shame that... I nearly ruined it at the very end," Fancy Pants murmured aside. "With my petty attachments... most unsportsponylike of me..."

"Hey..." Flash shrugged. "You had to give up golf—and in the end, you did!" He smirked. "If more world leaders did the same, we'd be in a much better place."

"Ah... I take it you overheard the entire exchange, Brad."

"Mmmmhmmm. I was hanging out with the Wonderbolts the entire time."

"Alas, it pains me that you had to witness my utter failing when the moment of truth came," Fancy Pants said, stifling a sigh. "A stallion with my reputation should... have better self-control."

Flash brushed his own bangs back. "Well... in the end, you made the right decision... and now everything's all coolie-crispies!"

"Heh... a most smashing turn of phrase, my young fellow!"

Flash avoided his gaze slightly. "I... only wish we all had the ability to fix things straight sooner than later..."

"Life is mighty long and complex," Filthy stated. "Plenty of opportunities to repair the worst mistakes and then some!"

"... ... ..." Flash looked up with a tender expression. "You really think so...?"

"Filthy! Mr. Pants!" Prince Blueblood trotted briskly into the scene, breathing heavily. "There you two are! What are you waiting for?!" He motioned below deck. "Come with me into the cargo hold so we can find the perfect spot to place the jewels!"

"Mmmmm... very well..." Fancy Pants fought a yawn. "And—right afterwards—a healthy helping of shuteye."

"You said it, partner!" Filthy Rich followed the other two stallions across the deck of the Midnight Oil. "We need to be bright-eyed and bushy-tailed for receiving the supply in the morning!"

"Oh! That reminds me!" Fancy Pants declared. "I'll be needing to send a telegram to the manager of Galloping Greens right away! So I can give the Hawkeye Pack proper assurance in the morning."

"A darn good plan, Fancy."

"You suppose Spitfire will be willing to spare one of her wingponies for the task? Technically it is an emergency situation—for the sake of Equestrian unity and all..."

"Hmmmm... I'll ask Captain Typhoon while we meet in the cargo hold. Maybe he can pull some strings with Spitfire."

"A thousand thanks, Prince. Bully! We are on the golden road to the future!"

"Hahahaha... huzzah!"

Flash Sentry listened to their cheerful voices as they sauntered below deck. After another yawn, he bore a bittersweet smile... then stared up to share the quiet moment with the remaining stars.

Drive

Flash Sentry couldn't remember precisely when the city planners had constructed a two-foot-by-ninety-meter Wal-Mart in the center median of the local highway, but he made sure to signal before drifting his car into the right lane to cruise around it. As he blurred by windows stuffed full of teddy bears and horseshoes, he sighed happily... smiling at the aurora borealis glittering through his windshield high above.

"Ahhhhhhh..." Flash held the steering wheel with one hand while resting his other arm against the edge of a broken R2 unit riding shotgun. "This is the life, isn't it, Artoo?" He closed his eyes, breathing in the salt air of the ocean. "I'm so glad I joined the navy."

From the backseat, he heard a barking sound.

Flash's eyes fluttered open. He looked towards the back of the limousine.

Soarin bounced in the backseat. The pegasus had his panting muzzle stretched felicitously out the open window, and he was drooling into the whipping winds.

"Whoah, bro! Put your seatbelt on!" Flash stifled a chuckle as he looked forward again. He veered the truck in and around pink cartoon flamingoes from Walt Disney's Alice and Wonderland. "Don't make me get the newspaper!"

Soarin let out a nervous yipping sound before turning into a Macbook with a Transformer noise and rattling to the floor of the train.

"You know the rules." Flash Sentry took a left turn and rolled through a school zone. "No dogs in the faculty lot." He slowed as he passed the front lawn of CHS. Forlorn eyes darted out the driver's side window. "They don't know how to park their catapults right..."

A wall of students stared straight back at him, their arms hanging limply by their side. Goosebumps formed along Flash's skin. Looking about, he eventually saw Flower Print sitting on Hank's shoulders. Their eyes were glazed white above angry scowls. Soon after, the sky above went dark, aurora and all.

Flash winced. His fingers gripped tightly to the steering wheel until cracks formed in the plaster.

"Are they enemies of yours?" rippled an ethereal voice. Flash felt a flicker of bright white light in his peripheral.

Squinting, Flash looked to his right to see that R2-D2 had been replaced by the moon. An alicorn silhouette peered darkly at him through a sea of pale craters.

"Your heart sank quite dramatically for a moment there, Flash Sentry."

"Guhhh!" Flash momentarily lost control of the sports car. Tires squeaked, tossing frogs and squirrels into a nearby lake. At last, he regained traction, and cruised safely down a long, long bridge spanning the interior of a supermarket. "Whew... Vice Princi—er... I mean Princess..." A crooked smile. "You gotta work on your entrances."

"A thousand apologies, child. Did I startle you yet again?"

"Nothing to be sorry about... uhhh... your highness." Flash cleared his throat. He glanced at the speedometer; all the numbers were an aphasic blur of disinformation. "You'd think I'd have gained the stomach for weirdness by now."

"Perhaps this is more presentable?" Luna's voice was accompanied by a noticeable dimming of the passenger's side.

Flash looked to his right.

Vice Principal Luna sat prim and proper... in a pastel purple minidress accented by the entire spectrum.

"Snrkkkkt—hahahaha!" Flash guffawed, struggling to keep straight on the road.

Unemotionally, the woman raised an eyebrow. "Does something amuse you?"

"You're dressed as friggin' Rainbow Brite from the old 80s cartoon! That's what! Hahaha—!"

"I simply pulled the design from deep within your subconscious," Luna calmly said. "It appears to have frequent attachment to your youngest memories."

"Ahem... yeah, well..." Flash's human cheeks blushed noticeably. "...d-don't let it get around."

"A most interesting setting," Luna remarked, looking around the claustrophobic confines of the automobile. "I suspect we are in some otherworldly vehicle of some kind?"

"Yeah! And it runs on ancient dead dinosaurs!"

"Dare I ask...?"

"Never mind all that." Flash brandished a bright grin in mid-drive. "How am I doing?"

"Do you refer to the manner in which you pilot this mechanism? I cannot pretend to say that I am a qualified judge, child..."

"No. I mean... y'know..." Flash nodded towards the traffic lines rolling underneath them in the headlights. "...in the waking world! In horsie land! What do you think of my progress? Huh? Have I done it?"

"Have you done what?"

Flash blinked, confused. "I... uh... I-I helped Fancy Pants' expedition negotiate a trade agreement with the diamond dogs."

"Is that a fact...?"

"Yeah! And I totally thwarted a crazy catapult assassination attempt, too!"

"Intriguing."

"That's... that's what you wanted me to do, r-right?" Flash's next grin was a sheepish thing. "Forge peace between equine and canine kind?"

"That is not the case."

"What?" Flash flashed her an awkward look.

Luna was deadpan.

"But..." Flash's fingers kneaded the ten and two of the steering wheel. "...but I thought you told me to go and accomplish something in Equestria—"

"I declared no such thing."

"Whoah, wait..." Flash bit his lip. "You didn't?"

Luna slowly shook her head. "I said that I sensed you had many things to accomplish. Not once did I pretend to say precisely what."

"Uhhh... why?" Flash squinted. "Because this is a test and... you're not willing to tell me?"

"No." She gazed back at him. "Because I simply do not know."

"... ... ..."

Luna folded her human arms. "Is there a reason for you to be tested?"

"I... uhhhhh..."

"I had ascertained that you had come into our world to discover something," Luna remarked. "To prove something—however—is another matter."

Flash gulped. "What if I'm here to do both?"

"Or perhaps neither."

Flash nervously glanced at her again.

"If—in the end—you discover that there is no change to be had or enjoyed, what then, Flash Sentry?"

Flash fought a heavy sigh. "I want to believe that there's something out there for me to do or prove."

"Why is that?"

"Because... b-because if I discover only nothing..." Flash's jaw clenched as he gazed at the road. "...then I'll be right back at where I started. I'll just be myself... and myself is a place I've grown t-tired of."

"Is there a reason why you feel so shameful?" Luna asked. "Even now?"

"You... you don't have any idea, Your Highness."

Luna's wise eyes scraped the roadside. "Don't I?"

Flash heard voices.

He looked out the driver's side window if his car.

Street lamps illuminated a scene, clear a day.

Halfway towards the exit to the supermarket parking lot, he saw a car.

Three people stood outside. One person paced in angry circles, yelling into a phone. Another person was fussing with the dormant car's engine.

There was a third person—a woman—and her belly was swelling. She waved towards the car... towards Flash.

Flash broke into a pale sweat. He couldn't stop his vehicle from slowing down... or his hand from touching the switch to the driver's side window. As it slowly lowered, the cold night air invaded the compartment, stealing his breath away.

The woman approached the car in slow motion. Flash's heart thundered between each step. There were tears.

In the distance, Luna's voice echoed: "You know as well as I do that you won't find it there, my child."

Flash wheezed. Shook.

"Don't be afraid. Keep moving."

The woman's mouth opened, bright as the dawn.

Flash jolted...

Doze

He awoke with a gasp, his tense breaths echoing against the wooden walls of a storage compartment. All around him, the immense hull of the Midnight Oil creaked and groaned as it rolled on through the clouds.

The out-of-place pegasus lay on a soft pile of grain sacks. A candle burned all the way to its brass holder beside him, the wick almost extinguished.

Flash Sentry could scarcely remember at what point he had gone to sleep. It had to have sometime before sunrise. The teenager's mind reeled with a bevy of migraine-inducing images: the mental stretch marks of a night chock-full of intense dreams.

The only soothing thing was the melodic sound of Princess Luna's calm voice, but even that was fading with each tense second he spent gathering his senses. Raising his forelimbs, Flash was briefly and stupidly surprised to find hooves instead of fingers. Nevertheless, he rubbed his muzzle several times, drifting with the sway of the airship as his senses gradually returned.

Finally—one leg after another—he stood up, wobbled, and limped out of the compartment. He instantly regretted opening the door to the top deck. Blinding sunlight flooded his sockets, and he nearly teetered into the port side railing. As he fumbled, he heard a casual male voice chuckle behind him.

"Took you long enough."

"Mrmmmfff...?" Flash teetered about, squinting.

Soarin and his pale smirk emerged from both the fog and his jumpsuit. Flash became aware of bright blue skies with pale clouds cruising by in his peripheral. "Mr. Pants and the others were asking where you had run off to. I figured you needed some shuteye, dude. After all..." A wink. "You're more or less the reason everything about this expedition turned out so well."

"Grnnngh..." Flash stifled a yawn and rubbed one eye after another. "Bro, please... don't inflate my ego this early in the morning." A dumb, tired yawn. "I don't want to tip the zeppelin into a barrel roll."

"Heheheh..." Soarin trotted over. "Don't get high off it just yet. Save it for the Princess."

"Who? Luna?!" Flash leaned back. "But I just got done talking to her."

"What? Er... no..." Soarin shook his head. "She's not the Princess that I'm talking about."

"Celestia?"

"You ever heard of Princess Mi Amore Cadenza?"

"... ... ..." Flash looked tiredly to the left... then looked to the right, just as sleepily. At last, he blossomed a nervous smile. "Can I take the physical challenge?"

"I doubt it. She's married to the former Captain of the Canterlot Guard."

"No, dude, I was making... erm... what I meant was—"

"Wow, you're even goofier when you're barely awake." Soarin snickered before patting Flash on the back. "Come on. We'll talk it over breakfast."

"Uhhhhh..." Flash awkwardly hobbled down the deck of the Midnight Oil alongside the Wonderbolt. "Talk what over?"

"Our next destination, of course!" Soarin smiled. "The Crystal Empire."

Celery!

"Soooooooo..." Flash Sentry poked at a plate full of celery stalks in the zeppelin's mess hall. "For those playing the home game..." His eyes darted upwards. "What exactly is so special about the Crystal Empire?"

"Pah!" Fancy Pants nearly dropped his monocle into his porridge. He and Filthy Rich gaped across the eating table as the ship's hull swayed slowly around them. "Why—anypony who's anypony knows all about the Crystal Empire!"

"You forget, Fancy, ol' pal..." Filthy smirked. "Brad here is no regular anypony."

"Mmmmm... quite right..." Fancy Pants sipped from a spoon, dabbed his muzzle with a napkin, and smiled. "Something the Crystal stewards should be keen to learn."

"Stewards?" Flash squinted. "What stewards?"

"That's where Her Royal Highness Princess Mi Amore Cadenza comes in," Soarin said, sitting next to Flash and happily munching on a carrot. "Mrmmmfff... and her husband, Captain Shining Armor."

"The two have been leading the interim government of the Crystal Empire ever since it reappeared from the shadowed depths of the Frozen North over a year ago!" Fancy Pants declared. "Quite a charming couple too—I might add. An inspiration to us all!"

Flash's muzzle scrunched. "Mi Amore Cadenza... Shining Armor... Crystal Empire..." A beat. His ears flicked. "Cadence... Shining Armor... Dean Cadance... Crystal Prep." He snorted out his nostrils, and a smirk formed. "Heh... son of a bitch..."

"Uh uh uh..." Filthy Rich shook a fetlock, grinning. "We left the dogs back at High Paw, my boy."

Flash winced slightly. "My apologies. I'm just..." He cleared his throat. "It's a lot to take in."

"Oh, don't be so modest!" Fancy Pants spoke between modest sips of his morning meal. "You're learning things quite swiftly! Especially for an outsider!" He gestured with his spoon. "Mr. Brad, my good sir, I simply cannot wait to tell the stewards what you've accomplished in your short stay on this expedition!"

"Uhhhhh..." Flash blinked. "...why would you tell the stewards about what went down last night?"

"Because..." Soarin downed another carrot and smirked aside. "...they're the regal powers who will oversee the imports of the diamond dogs' meticulously mined crystalline jewels."

"The new backbone of future Crystal Imperialist prosperity and industry!" Filthy Rich declared. "And we have you to thank for ultimately procuring it for us!"

"I'd say that lies strictly in the hooves of you fine businesstallions," Flash Sentry said with a casual smirk.

"Or more accurately Prince Blueblood's," Soarin muttered out the side of his muzzle, causing Flash to snicker.

Fancy Pants blushed slightly. "Yes, well..." He adjusted his collar. "...Mr. Brad here was instrumental all the same, and it is only fair to let the stewards know that. Since we're headed to meet with them most expediently."

"Wow..." Flash blinked. "We already got the supply of crystalline jewels from the diamond dogs?"

"Eeyup!" Filthy Rich nodded over his breakfast. "Stored up overnight!"

"Wow..." Flash ran a hoof through his mane. "Guess I really slept in."

"Darn straight you did." Soarin tapped at Flash's bowl. "Get some celery down your gullet, pal. It's the last of our food supply before we make anchor in the Crystal Empire."

"Uh... sure... s-sure thing..." Flash lifted one of the vegetables in the crook of his fetlock. Before he raised his fully to his mouth, he glanced across the table. "Just... what is the plan for when we get there?"

"Why, a celebration, of course!" Fancy Pants grinned wide. "Prince Blueblood and I have already sent messengers out to the furthest reaches of Equestria—courtesy of Spitfire's good generosity, of course."

"I see..." Flash looked aside at Soarin. "Why are you still here, then?"

"To feed you, of course."

"Ah."

"It's gonna be a real knee-slapper of a shindig!" Filthy Rich remarked.

"What is?"

"The celebration at the Crystal Empire, of course!" Filthy grinned. "Why... once all of the summons are answered, all the biggest pony names in Equestria will be there to attend! From royalty to commonfolk to the ambassadors of Canterlot themselves!"

"Uhhh... attend what, exactly?" Flash asked. "What kind of a celebration are we talking about?"

"It's time to usher in the joining of the Crystal Empire with the Equestrian Union!" Fancy Pants said. "Not to mention future business relations with canine-kind. Haha! Brad, my boy, I tell you... it is a marvelous time to be alive!"

"Heh..." Flash smirked and brought the celery to his lips. "I'll take your word for it." He took one bite and his mouth exploded with flavor. "Mrmmmmmmmmnngh!" He nearly spat the greenery out and waved his fetlocks daintily before his gaping muzzle. "Humina humina humina...!" A shuddering sigh. "Oh right..." A dumb smile. "...I forgot."

Spitfire

"All right!" Spitfire's scratchy voice raked against the whipping winds. "Listen up, you sissy-winged sparrows!"

Flash Sentry stopped pacing around the deck of the Midnight Oil and looked to see the Captain facing a line of uniformed Wonderbolts standing at attention.

"We're en route to the Crystal Empire! Our first destination: the Imperialist Storehouse!" Spitfire paced and barked. "There, Captain Typhoon's crew will be unloading the precious supply of crystalline diamonds that the mountain dogs gave us! I want Alpha Team staying right here to overlook the safe transfer and securing of these precious materials!" Her eyes pierced like amber daggers across the wind-whipped deck. "So help me... if a single jewel falls out of place and gets so much as a crack, then the whole of you are on cloud kicking duty for three months! You got it?!"

"Ma'am, yes, ma'am!"

"Good! Then don't screw this up!" She paced towards the other half of the line. "Delta Team! At the same time that we'll be unloading the jewels, Prince Blueblood and his associates will be needing to meet with the stewards of the Crystal Empire at the palace! It will be your job to escort them safely to their destination. Try not to gloat—you got the easy job. It is extremely important that the crystal ponies witness the efficiency and security of Canterlot functions! They need to know that they'll be joining a stable, professional union! Do I make myself clear?"

"Ma'am, yes, ma'am!"

"And when both tasks are done and finished...!" Spitfire's hooves scraped to a stop. She turned to squint at the line of ponies as a whole. "... ... ...you will be relieved of duty for a spell." Her tone briefly lowered to something calm and soothing before slicing straight back into abrasively scratcy: "That's right! Ground leave! Prepare to enjoy the upcoming festivities in the Crystal Empire, you wind-dancing daisies! You've earned it!"

The wingponies murmured happily, smirkiing at one another—

"DID I GIVE YOU PERMISSION TO TITTER?!"" Spitfire hissed.

They all stood at attention once again.

"Now man your posts!" Spitfire pointed with a sharp hoof. "We've still got a ways before we arrive at the Crystal Empire! Move! On the double!"

The Wonderbolts took wing and glided off in every direction.

Flash Sentry smiled slightly at the scene. He turned to resume his aimless stroll across the deck—

"And you..."

Flash blinked, ears drooping nervously. Slowly—hesitantly—he turned around to gaze at the fire-bright captain who was trotting towards him. "Uhhhhh..." He pointed at himself. "Me?"

"No." Spitfire grunted, eyes rolling. "The Tooth Fairy."

"Whoah! Get out of town!" Flash grinned stupidly. "You guys got one of them too?!"

Spitfire merely stood before him and spoke: "Captain Typhoon is planning on docking the Midnight Oil at the zeppelin tower outside of the Crystal Empire for the duration of his crew's extended stay. Long story short, this vessel is overdue for repairs... and it won't be casting off again anytime soon." Her tail flicked as her wings tightened on either side of the mare. "If you wish to return home, you will need to choose another option. Fortunately, there'll be a train station nearby that can easily take you back to Central Equestria. Perhaps even further."

"What makes you think I'm 'returning home' anytime soon?" Flash cocked his head to the side. "Do you even know where my 'home' is?"

"Regardless..." Spitfire's teeth showed briefly. "...you can no longer take advantage of Captain Typhoon's good graces, so you'll be having to pick a new option."

"Is this your way of telling me to buzz off?" Flash shrugged. "Fancy Pants and Filthy Rich say that there's gonna be a celebration in the Crystal Empire." He smiled. "I was kinda sorta hoping to check it out! Unless... like... I need a Platinum Annual Pass or something."

"Hrmmmmm..." Spitfire slowly shook her head. "It's a miracle you lasted a single minute on this trip."

Flash's eyes narrowed. "You don't like me very much, do you, Captain?"

Her nostrils merely flared. Flash waited for an answer, but she wasn't about to give it. She turned around with a flick of her tail. "I must go and converse with Typhoon. The two of us will need to make adjustments for our descent..."

Flash called after her: "Y'know... it was never my intent to drive a wedge between you and Soarin'."

Spitfire scuffled to a stop.

"But even still... you can't deny..." Flash took a breath. "...that there's a distinct lack of anything there... and that it doesn't take that big a lever to pull the gap even wider."

Spitfire looked over her shoulder. "You let me worry about protecting Soarin, kid."

"Protecting Soarin—how?" Flash blinked. "As you expect him to be? Or as he could be?"

To Flash's surprise, Spitfire didn't jump at his throat for saying that. The next breath out of her was a somber sigh. "I know he's not exactly happy where he's at."

Flash's brow furrowed. "You know that he doesn't enjoy being a Wonderbolt?"

"Wow. You can actually listen. Bravo."

"Then why haven't you made any attempt to talk him out of—"

At last, Spitfire snarled: "Because I cannot make that decision for him!" She huffed. "He needs to be the one to take iniative! He's a grown-ass stallion! I would expect no less of him."

"Captain, with all due respect, what you expect of him is a loyal wingpony," Flash Sentry said. "And so long as Soarin fills that role, he won't do anything to back down. He can't... even if it means doing something fulfilling in his life." He bit his lip. "He... respects you too much to risk hurting things with such a choice."

Spitfire fumed, staring off.

"Look... it's okay to care for the dude," Flash said. "I like him too... but I haven't served alongside him for years like you have. You're his commanding officer and I can only guess what all of that might entail. But... as his friend..." He slowly shook his head. "...don't you think you can afford to screw protocol and speak to him as a pal?"

Silence, save for the blistering winds.

Flash sighed, waving a hoof. "Look. I overstepped my bounds. I know. Just, whatever you do... don't take this all out on him—"

"You're nothing but a sissy punk," Spitfire grunted. "You show up out of nowhere—full of feathers and farts—and yet you have no problem chewing me out."

Flash did a double-take. "Hey look, I was just—"

She wasn't finished: "And in all these years, Soarin can't summon the same kind of courage to so much as look me in the eyes..." She turned to face the teenager. "Until last night." Her scowl was a melting thing, the first time Flash pictured her as vulnerable. "Whatever the heck it is you're doing, kid, it's working."

Flash slowly shook his head. "I'm not the one who has to let him go, Captain."

"... ... ..."

"I'm glad I met Soarin. He's a real bro." Flash pointed. "But you? You're his friend and his main source of inspiration. Quite frankly... you're the one who has to let him go... to allow him to go on and do more fulfilling things in his life. And you gotta tell him that too."

Spitfire stifled a groan. She ran a hoof through her mane. "Years ago... when we first began flying together... I never thought it would come to this..." She clenched her jaw. "I never signed up for this fluffy emotional hogwash..."

Flash Sentry smirked. "And here I thought being a Wonderbolt meant going above and beyond."

Spitfire flashed him a look.

He smiled smugly back.

"Hrmmmfff..." Wings flashing, she took off for the far end of the Midnight Oil to deal with one task or another. "You know nothing, kid."

Flash stood calmly in her wake. "Don't I...?"

Almost

The Midnight Oil's flight north was far faster than Flash Sentry had witnessed from the airship before. If nothing else, it matched the undeniable enthusiasm of Fancy Pants and the other business partners in charge of that fortutious expedition. They had got what they had long desired out of the meeting with the Diamond Dogs, and now they were devouring the remaining distance between them and their imperial destination.

The vessel moved like greased lightning, and Flash felt himself hunching tightly behind the port and starboard railings, as if afraid that the high altitude winds might kick his feathery body clean off the deck and toss him into the great blue yonder.

And yet, as he looked around the edges of the ship's swaying gondola, he spotted the figures of Spitfire and Soarin and other members of the Wonderbolts gliding in midair alongside the craft, fearless and determined. Rather swiftly, Flash detached himself from any scant remaining ego concerning his own aerial prowess. Derpy Hooves was a far better teacher than she let on, but Flash was still a three-day-old pegasus at best, and he was swiftly reminded that he was within the presence of masters. It somehow made all of his chummy conversations with Soarin... all that much more flattering. Soon, the trepidation over the speed of the Midnight Oil's flight diminished, and Flash felt himself enjoying the moment yet again.

As he strolled back and forth across the deck, he occasionally caught the sound of Prince Blueblood and Filthy Rich conversing rather sharply with one another along the starboard deck. They appeared to be arguing. Over what? As far as Flash could tell, they were at odds with one another over who to hire for various services for the celebration to come. Prince Blueblood appeared to be insisting that they reel in the Royal Sisters' Personal Catering and the Canterlot Symphony Orchestra. At the same time, Flash heard Filthy Rich calling Blueblood out on a "cultural bias" and suggested that they ask Princess Cadance and Shining Armor to hire services from within the Crystal Empire.

At some point, Fancy Pants stepped into the conversation and suggested neither of those two options, proposing instead that a far humbler solution would be to choose from the general populace of Equestria—so as to welcome the Crystal Empire to the Union with sincerity and the "good ol' fashion spirit of Equestrian friendship." Filthy Rich seemed warm to the idea, but Flash could already hear Blueblood scoffing at it. The three rolled into an even deeper argument. Something told Flash that—perhaps, given his lucky streak—he could trot into the room and suggest some other solution to pacify matters...

But he chose to keep his distance instead. He strolled lonesomely across the deck, pondering his thoughts amidst the clouds blurring by the Midnight Oil. He had accomplished a lot since he arrived in Equestria, and now there was a new age of opportunity to be had by the fanciful occupants of that land. Part of that was his doing—he admitted—but mostly it was just felicitous happenstance. Perhaps acknowleding such was what kept him from feeling overtly cheerful about the matter. For some reason or another, a cloud of ennui was plaguing him suddenly.

It wasn't until the second dream with Luna that Flash realized that he was... subconsciously guaging everything by his own actions. Had he really struggled so hard to win the favor of the Hawkeye Pack just because he was desperate to 'do good' for Equestria? Was all of this some crazy attempt to win the favor of Princess Luna? A Royal Monarch of that land had spotted him... called him out for being a foreign element. It was no big secret that Flash felt intimidated by her... goaded on by her... and yet—based on their second meeting—she wasn't expecting something from him at all. Or, if she was, it wasn't the same thing he was expecting.

Flash felt confused. And he felt bad for feeling confused. It was a cycle of sighs that he was used to being weighed down by. He just didn't expect for it to catch up to him here. The teenager longed for the chuckling words of Soarin or even the elegant hum of Octavia—but neither of them were available to chat with him at the moment. For the first time since arriving in Equestria, Flash felt... imprisoned by his own thoughts, and he didn't like the conditions of that cell.

So—in an effort to distract himself from... thinking... he wandered close to the airship's bow and peered out onto the morphing horizon.

The mountains gave way to wide, expansive, rolling hills. These weren't like the plains that surrounded Ponyville. Here, there weren't any forests. Instead, there was a neverending sea of waving grass and scattered bushes. Instead of rivers and streams there were sporadic lakes and ponds. It was mostly unobstructed emerald earth... stretching far and wide as the eye could see.

Perfect for herds and stampedes, Flash ventured.

And that's how he learned to smile again. In such a spontaneous moment, Flash remembered—he cherished—the fact that he was a colorful winged horse in a magic pony land, riding a goofy airship out of Super Mario Brothers Three... preparing to celebrate a business transaction between talking dogs and crystal quadrupeds.

All of it—in fact—was a dream. For all Flash knew, Luna could pop up anytime. He could either stress about the matter... or do what he had been so good at up until that point and beyond.

He could just roll with it. Like those hills. Like the wind hissing past his ears... silly, soft, fuzzy ears.

Funny how quick it was to get used to being cute... and to allow the plague of cynicism to set in.

"Almost," he muttered to himself, ever so briefly victorious. It was enough. "Almost."

And he resumed his stroll, absorbing himself once again in the breeze and color of that lofty flight...

And smiling because of it.

Arrival

"So..." Soarin squinted at Flash Sentry as the two relaxed along the Midnight Oil's port side. "...it is a dreamscape?"

"Huh? Dreamscape?"

"One that can be visited and manipulated by an alicorn," Soarin clarified, his exposed mane and raised goggles glinting in the sunlight. "Such as Princess Luna—"

"No no no no no no..." Flash vigorously shook his head. "Dude. No magical. My world—remember?" He arched an eyebrow, smirking. "It's all technological."

"Technological."

"That's right."

"And yet..." Soarin blinked. "...this somehow allows everypony on the planet to communicate with one another and share information at the same time?"

"First off." Flash pointed with his hoof, smiling. "It's 'everybody,' not everypony."

Soarin blushed slightly. "My bad."

"It's okay bro. And second." Flash gestured. "It's not all that crazy for mass communication to be a real thing!"

"Here in Equestria, it takes us several days to deliver a letter across country—and that's with our fastest flier. But..." Soarin rubbed his aching head. "Back in your world... this 'Internet' of yours can do it instantaneously?"

"Yeah, pretty much!"

"How does this 'Internet' work, exactly?"

"Oh... it involves... uhhhh... Lan Lines and Cell Towers and Satellites and crap."

"You've... already lost me."

"I... I can't explain all of it, dude..."

"Why can't you?"

Flash blinked. "Uhhhh..."

Soarin squinted. "You enjoy instantly accessible global information and yet you still can't explain the mechanics of it?"

"It just... works! Y'know! Scientists and cable guys make it happen! Why, I just—" Flash instinctively fumbled around his upper leg for a pocket that didn't exist—containing a phone that also didn't exist. His pupils shrank, and he blushed... giggling into the whipping winds. "Oh wow."

Soarin chuckled helplessly. "What's the matter?"

Flash smiled embarrassingly. "In pondering how the Internet works, I just had a stupid instinctual thought: 'Why not just look it up on Google?' Heheheheh..." He exhaled through a dumb grin. "Isn't that sad? Not being able to know what you know?"

"Heheheh..." Soarin smoothed his bangs back. "This 'Internet' must be a fine luxury indeed if you can't even be bothered to remember how it works."

"Oh, the Internet has helped me forget a lot of things," Flash said. He fidgeted a bit where he sat. "...such as the innocent bygone days before I understood what the word 'prolasped' means..."

"What does 'prolapsed' mean?"

"Uhhhh—H-HEY!" Flash stood up tall, wings coiling and uncoiling. "Is that Captain Typhoon?"

"Huh? What? I don't hear—"

To Flash's relief, the Captain of the Airship began shouting across the deck: "The Crystal Spires have been sighted! All hooves! Slow our descent! Prepare for mooring!"

"Whoops!" Soarin slid his goggles down and took wing. "I'd better take my post before Spitfire bites my tail off."

"Or worse," Flash muttered.

Swoooosh! As Soarin flew into the dispersing clouds, Flash craned his neck to look. True to Typhoon's order, the ship was lowering—slowing with each passing minute. The teenager spotted a break in the clouds, and beyond that a blue-green valley of tundra. In the center of this land, stretching outward in a massive circle, was a quaint urban sprawl pockmarked with gardens and geometrically-pleasing streets. It was like a warm Shangri-La existing in a pocket of a sub-arctic biome, and Flash could feel a strange flux in temperature as the airship cruised towards its destination.

The details of the large city came into clearer focus. Buildings of polished metal flickered in the midday Sun. Only—they weren't metal, but something somehow shinier... more reflective. In the very center of this place was a massive needle-sharp tower, thick as a castle at its base, but ultimately forking off into an elaborate narrow spire at the top. The summit of the "obelisk" pulsed with magical resonance, and Flash nearly drooled at the sight of a delightfully shimmering aura fanning colorfully outward across the sky. This light show emanated from the fixed point of the tower, and it danced with every hue of the spectrum. As the Midnight Oil approached a tall wooden edifice towards the southwest—a docking tower evidently built by foreigners to this land—Flash could spot tiny bodies wandering through the cocentric streets of the sprawl... and each equine figure was even shinier and flashier than the last.

"Mesmerizing the first time you see it, yes?" Fancy Pants suddenly said.

Flash Jumped in place. If he had spread his wings, the wind might have tossed his body overboard.

"Whoah there, Brad, my boy!" Fancy Pants chuckled, resting a hoof on Flash's shoulder to anchor him to the deck. "A thousand pardons! I did not mean to startle you!"

"This..." Flash gulped. "This is it?"

"Affirmative, young chap." Fancy nodded, smiling as he gazed at the sprawl below. "The Crystal Empire in all its splendid glory."

"It..." Flash's eyes narrowed. "...doesn't really evoke 'Empire' in my head."

"Hah! Yes... well..." Fancy Pants polished his monocle. "Antiquity carries weight to a name, no matter how the culture abides in the present. Why—once upon a time—the poor ponies of this land were ruled mercilessly by a warlock tyrant named Sombra."

"Oh yeah?"

"He enslaved the crystal ponies and forced them to work in deep quarries, seeking crystalline jewels—much like the ones we've just peacefully acquired from the diamond dogs. When the Royal Sisters attempted to intervene on the citizens' behalf, Sombra fought back with all of his dark magics. The Monarchs had no choice but to seal him away with a spell. Sombra's spirit fled from his body, and the resulting enchantment locked the entire land into a veritable limbo for dozens of generations."

"Wow." Flash gulped. "That sucks."

"Yes. Erm... quite." Fancy Pants' calm eyes reflected the glowing tower. "Anyways, it was only a few years ago that the entire kingdom resurfaced. The dark enchantment had worn off, and the once-enslaved citizens woke from eons of sleep. Unfortunately, this also meant the return of Sombra himself. But—thankfully—the stewards Shining Armor and Princess Cadance exorcised his dark spirit with the help of the Princess of Friendship."

Flash jolted slightly. "Princess... of Friendship, huh?"

"That's right."

"She's... uh... she's been here?"

"Indeed she has." Fancy Pants nodded. "In fact, she makes several regular visits with her companions." He looked at her. "Why?"

Flash sighed with a shudder. He looked off the ship's port side railing. "How long until we cast off again?"

Fancy Pants laughed. "Oh Brad, you are quite a curious fellow!" He adjusted his monocle. "Haven't you heard? The Midnight Oil is going to be stationed here quite a while. In fact, Typhoon—at my request—has ordered his crew an extended terrestrial leave!"

"I see..."

"Meanwhile, it's the job of the rest of us to see to the arrangement of festivities here!" Fancy Pants declared. "Dignitaries and respresentatives are receiving their invites by winged messengers just as we speak! In a matter of days, they'll arrive here en masse to celebrate the Crystal Ponies joining the Equestrian Union!" He suddenly sighed with a touch of ennui. "And... that is when I feel that we will need the help of a lucky soul."

"Lucky... soul... help..." Flash blinked stupidly into the forthcoming beat of silence. When he realized Fancy was staring at him, he threw the aristocratic stallion a double-take. "Wait, you m-mean me?!"

"I don't see why not."

"But, dude—M-Mister Pants..." Flash smiled sheepishly. "Haven't I done enough?"

Fancy Pants grinned wide. "Why stop now?!"

"Wh-what I mean is... uhm..." Flash cleared his throat. "With all due respect, why ask me for help? I'm no party organizer. Besides, don't you have Filthy and Prince Blueblood to help you with—"

"Alas..." Fancy Pants leaned back with a stifled sigh. "...they have resorted to biting at each other's jugulars. Ironic—now that the deal with the Hawkeye Pack and the rest of the representatives of High Paw has been secured—they are given greater lease to argue with one another." He smiled at the teenager. "Never underestimate the paralyzing power of triumph, Brad. It can very well be your worst enemy."

"What's the problem, exactly?"

"Blueblood wishes to bring Canterlot's finest to oversee the music and catering at the Crystal Empire, which Filthy and I believe is overkill. To counter that, Filthy would like to reel in ponies from all across Equestria--which both the Prince and I agree is far too ambitious with the limited time we have available."

"Don't you have an idea?"

"Indeed I do. Several, as a matter of fact. However..." Fancy Pants stood tall with a humble smile. "If the last twenty-four-hours have taught me something, it's that my ideas aren't always ideal... and I could certainly use a healthy helping of humility."

"So..." Flash's eyes narrowed. "...you're coming to me."

"You're the one pony on this venture who's displayed luck, charisma, and initiative." Fancy Pants smiled proudly. "It certainly wouldn't hurt to consult such a wellspring of good fortune."

"I..." Flash rubbed his neck, adjusting Vinyl's headphones. He looked listlessly across the deck as the horizon raised higher and higher beyond the railing. "I don't know. I-I gotta think about it."

"Bully!" Fancy slapped Flash's shoulder again. "In the meantime..." He steered the teenager towards the bow as the vessel approached the mooring tower. "...what say we introduce you to this fine, fine city?!"

"Hrmmm..." Flash smiled stupidly. "All I need is a pair of meme photos of myself: Crystal Empire—Before and After. Not Even Once."

"... ... ...I beg your pardon?"

"You want some advice, Mr. Pants?"

"By all means."

"Ignore half the things I say."

"Hah hah! Way ahead of you, Brad, my boy...!"

Shine

An hour and a half later...

Flash Sentry found himself constantly squinting. The streets, the building faces, the benches—they were all on fire. A merciless reflective glare murdered his eyes at every angle, and he was finding it exceedingly difficult to see, much less trot in a straight line.

"You doing okay there, Brad?" Soarin asked. The stallion was within earshot of several other Wonderbolts. While still uniformed, the group had been relieved of duty. Nevertheless, they were casually escorting Fancy Pants and his partners into the heart of the Crystal Empire. Lithe hooves clopped against mirror-smooth streets burning with light. "Hah! This is your first time in the Crystal Empire for sure!" Several other equines chuckled.

Flash Sentry gulped, veering left and right with a rattle of Vinyl's headphones. "Wh-what gave you your f-first clue...?!"

"It's a sight for sore eyes upon the first visit," another Wonderbolt squeaked. "Literally! Hahaha!"

"Why's..." Flash winced. "...is it so friggin' bright?"

"It's the time of the day," Soarin said calmly. "The sun's catching the crystal surfaces at all the right angles. Or—in your eyes' case—all the wrong ones."

"Grnnngh..." Flash rubbed his face, wincing even more. "How does anybody actually live here?"

"It probably doesn't affect them the same," said another Wonderbolt.

"Here..." Flash felt Soarin's strong hoof reaching out to him and dangling a pair of goggles. "Put these on. They're tinted to handle bright solar flares."

"But..." Flash shifted in mid-step. "What about you? Won't your eyes be hurt?"

"I can deal. I've spent more mornings than I count flying towards the sunrise in unbreakable formation. Just take the friggin' goggles already, Brad."

"Okay... okay!" Fumbling, Flash grasped the article being hoofed to him. With more than a little bit of fumbling with his tiny horse ears, he finally succeeded in putting the goggles on. Almost instantly, the world faded into comfortable focus, and Flash found himself gawking at polished streets with pearlescent architecture and ocean-blue motifs. "Whoah. They actually work!"

"Of course they do!" Soarin chuckled. "What, was I gonna let you go blind?"

"Pffft... friggin' wuss," another Wonderbolt said.

"Fleetfoot, if we were all still on duty, I'd make you fly twenty laps."

"Hah! No you wouldn't!"

"And why not?"

"Cuz you're not Spitfire."

"Heh... guess you have a point there." Soarin suddenly cupped a pair of hooves around his muzzle and shouted towards a crowd of locals. "Hey! Everypony! Check it out!" He pointed at Fleetfoot. "It's Rainbow Dash! Defender of the the Princess of Friendship!"

Gasps lit the air—mostly from young foals.

"Rainbow Dash?!"

"Wow! She's really here!"

"That's so awesome!"

"Can I have an autograph?!"

Flash Sentry watched with blinking disbelief as a crowd of shiny equines rushed in, swarming around the flailing female wonderbolt. Fleetfoot's voice cracked as she fought and struggled with the sudden pile of obsessive bodies.

"Hey! Damn it! I'm not who you think I—Ow! Watch it! Does my mane look anything like a rainbow—?!"

"What's the Princess of Friendship like?!"

"Can you do a Sonic Rainboom for us? Oh please please please!"

"How many times have you protected Princess Twilight from certain doom?!"

"Sign my dress! Pleeeeeeease!"

"Grnnnnngh!" Fleetfoot shook an angry hoof from the crowd that was tackling her. "Soarinnnnn! I'll get you for this!"

Soarin tossed a smirk over his shoulder. "Sorry! Take it to Spitfire! Maybe she'll make me do twenty laps!"

"Uhhhhh..." Flash stared at the gathering crowd as they trotted past. "Wow."

"I know, right?" Soarin nodded. "But—believe me—Fleetfoot asks for it. And she secretly envies Rainbow Dash for how much fame she's gained while still being a rookie. That's the brutal irony—"

"No, I mean the ponies," Flash squeaked. "They're... actually made of crystal."

"Well... chtyeaaaah..." Soarin nodded dramatically. "What did you expect?"

"A bunch of meth-addicted-Mister-Eds? I dunno..."

"What are humans made of back home, Flash?" Soarin asked while the two were out of earshot of the rest. "Cotton candy?"

"Only some of us are pink. But even that's a stretch."

"Heheheh..."

"Which always made me wonder..." Flash Sentry blinked through Soarin's protective goggles. "Like... in Star Trek Enteprise, Jeffrey Combs' character—Shran, an Andorian—always calls Captain Archer 'pink skin.' But Jonathan Archer—played by Scott Bakula—is a caucasian human. Does Shran just not know about brown-skinned people? I mean friggin' Travis Merriweather is sitting right there on the Enterprise's bridge. Not like Shran can't see him. Then again, whenever the Andorian ship is hailed, you only ever see Shran's face on the viewscreen. So maybe there's this future computer interface that locks in on just the Captain's face and that's all the spacefearers get... so no wonder that Andorians only ever think of humans as 'pink skinned.' They've never seen a non-Caucasian before, which is patently absurd because anglican people make up such a relatively finite fraction of the overall human population, and you would think that greater diversity would be statistically reflected in the future population of Terran space-explorers. Then again, it is about a century and a half before Benjamin Sisko farted around on the Defiant—"

"Is this your way of trying to make it an even playing field?" Soarin asked.

Flash snapped out of his monologue. "Huh?"

Soarin smiled as he enjoyed the sights of the Crystal Empire around them. "Surrounded by so much you don't understand, you feel forced to spout out a bunch of stuff we don't understand..."

"... ... ..." Flash Sentry blinked. "Wow. I think you finally figured me out, dude."

"Heheheheh. It was only a matter of time."

"Uhm... I-I guess I'll just stop rambling, then—"

"No! Don't!"

Flash looked aside at his friend. "Why?"

"Because it's goofy and it makes me smile."

"Heh... whatever you say, bro—" Flash did a double-take at a massive object standing in the middle of the street. "Whoah."

"What?"

"What's that?"

"What's what?"

Flash pointed. "That statue. It doesn't look like a pony."

"Pfft. I would hope not."

"Who is it?" Flash cocked his goggled head to the side. "...looks like Warwick Davis doing a Geico commercial."

"It's Spike the Dragon."

"That's a dragon?!" Flash cackled.

"Mmmhmmm!" Soarin nodded. "And careful what you say about him. The little dude's a hero in the eyes of the locals."

"Why? Did he star in this world's version of Willow?"

"Actually, he and Princess Cadance rescued the Crystal Heart from King Sombra—which led to the evil king's spirit being banished forever."

"Oh." Flash gawked at the statue as the group trotted by. "That sounds... surprisingly epic."

"Ha! I know, right?" Soarin grinned wide. "Our world's history is full of badflank souls who've saved the day time and time again. It's just the right kind of mojo to keep our society going." He looked aside at Flash. "Don't humans have any heroes back at home?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"Name one."

"Well..." Flash raised a hoof to rub his chin, then continued trotting with his buddy. "...long ago, before I was born, we had this brave warrior who slew many a foe and basked in the glory of their spilled blood."

"You don't say..."

"Yeah, his name was Michael Jordan." Flash Sentry smiled crookedly. "And—while we're at it—I guess you could say that Bugs Bunny was essentially his Enkidu—"

"Oh hey! a friendy voice shouted across the street. "Hey, Lieutenant!"

Both Soarin and Flash fumbled in mid-trot, looking confused. Flash sensed a forelimb waving in his peripheral. He turned to look, spotting a crystalline mare and her two children lingering along the street corner.

"Good afternoon!" she smiled. "Are we having visitors?"

Flash merely blinked, stupefied.

"The Wonderbolts!" Soarin paused to bow. "At your service!"

"Here to escort Prince Blueblood and his fellow negotiators!" shouted another Wonderbolt. "They're off to meet with the Stewards right now!"

"Oh, how wonderful!" The mare chuckled, her coat glistening in the sunlight. She trotted off happily with her children. "Well, keep at it, Lieutenant! Make them feel at home!"

Flash watched the family leave. "Funny..." He spoke aside to Soarin. "...you didn't tell me that your rank is Lieutenant."

"It's not," Soarin said. "I think she's got me confused with somepony else."

"It isn't Rainbow Dash, is it?"

"Pfffft. Heck no. Hey!" Soarin grinned. "I just remembered something! There's a place here you've gotta see."

"Well... lead on, bro." And Flash trotted after his traveling companion.

Wizards

"You're taking me to..." Flash Sentry blinked, his eyes reflecting towering rows of tightly-packed tomes. "...a library?"

"Shhhhh!" Soarin insisted. Then—with a motion of his neck—he led Flash Sentry deeper (and quieter) into the heart of the crystalline archives. "It's something inside the library. In the west wing."

"Hah... the west wing, huh?" Flash smirked slyly, keeping up with the still-uniform'd Wonderbolt. "Careful. I hear it's forbidden."

"It is? Since when?"

Flash shook his head with a sigh and muttered in mid-trot. "If you want me to read the books they've got stored away here, I'm flattered. Really, I am. But... eh... I'm something of a slow reader and I'd much rather get a look around at the place itself—"

"It's got nothing to do with books, bro."

"Oh?" Flash blinked. "Does this place have a microfilm section?"

"Honestly... do you ever have anything sensible to spit between breaths?"

"Would you have it any other way."

"Guess not." Soarin smirked as he turned one last corner. The two stallions approached a second floor balcony overlooking a lower level to the archives. The air here was bright—with a glass domed ceiling letting in lots of sun. Beyond the balcony, a large chamber full of tables with alchemy equipment lingered beneath the railing. Ponies were lined up on both the top and bottom floors, murmuring to one another as they observed what was transpiring.

Flash Sentry heard a tingle to the air, like chimes were being struckly lightly in succession. Curiously, he cranked his neck as Soarin brought him to the railing's edge.

"Check it out," Soarin said, gesturing down at the sight unfolding.

Flash peered with thin eyes. At first, he thought he was looking at a light show. Perhaps even a hologram. Then—after several seconds of comprehending—he felt his heart leap into his chest. The teenager was observing actual objects floating around with actual magic. In the center of the room below was a stallion with an orange coat and a fiery-red mane, and he was actually a unicorn. Brilliant bursts of light emanated from his horn as he assembled a wagon in midair. Then—with gentle ministrations—he telekinetically lowered the object down, smiled, and rolled it towards a grateful family of crystal ponies who sputtered their thanks and bowed humbly. He bowed right back before shaking their hooves and sending them on their way. Another crystalline family trotted up from a line of citizens waiting to see the unicorn, this time presenting an heirloom of sorts. The stallion appraised it in midair, rubbed a scruffy red goatee, then went about fixing the broken item from the inside out with enchanted finesse.

"Voila!" Soarin gestured. "Magic!"

"I... can see that."

"Figured you'd like to get a taste of the real thing," Soarin said. "Seeing as you don't have any of it back home on Earth... well... human Earth."

"Oh, I've seen it before," Flash muttered.

"You have?" Soarin blinked crookedly. "But I thought you said—" He then inhaled knowingly. "Ohhhhhhh. Back in Ponyville. I forgot that place had unicorns."

"That's not what I meant. I mean... you're not wrong. I saw some magic back there. But back on Earth? My Earth?" Flash's eyes remained transfixed on the floating object that was being magically repaired before his lofty gaze. He noticed a faint glow encapsulating the items in the unicorn's telekinetic grasp. It matched the unicorn's eyes, and the stallion's starry cape also glowed with some off-hoof enchantment. "We've had magic show up and... manifest itself. Only... uhm..." He gulped dryly "...it's never been that much of a good thing."

"No?"

"Yeah." Flash fidgeted. "I was mind-controlled as a teenage zombie for one evening," he said, trying not to crack up at the blatant confession. "Also, I had my body and spirit corrupted by Sirens disguised as humans. Then there was that time a bunch of crazy portals opened up and nearly plummeted me and my friends to our death. Oh... and also Camp Everfree. Can't forget the psychotic camp counselor turned hentai plant monster. What was her name...? 'Sunflower...?' 'Glenda Rosebud...?' Uhhhh..." He rubbed his head hard. "'Sarah Palin.' We'll just go with that for now."

"My bad, dude," Soarin remarked. "I didn't realize magic had such a... bad reputation in your world."

"In brief spurts." Flash bit his lip. "Enough to not really want much to do with it."

"Is that why you're so freaked out right now?" Soarin asked.

"... ... ...?" Flash looked at Soarin, then up at his own ears. He realized that they had been flattened that entire time. "Eheh..." Relaxing slightly, he flicked them straight back up. "To be fair, some of my... ... ...former friends are imbued with magic. Even to this day. And they've only ever done us a world of good."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. Saved my butt from all those nasty things I just mentioned," Flash said. "Even hentai plant monster Kellyanne Conway... I-I mean Sarah Palin."

"But for the most part, magic just doesn't happen in your world."

"Not really, dude." Flash gestured. "The only time we ever get touched with magic—it's on account of the portal we have that connects with Equestria."

"Ah. Well, I'm sorry about that."

"Nothing for you to be sorry for," Flash said. "Magic itself isn't... bad. It just... usually does freaky things in my world. But here...?" He smiled as he watched the unicorn fix the heirloom and offer it back to the smiling family. "Gotta admit. It looks pretty sweet."

"Most ponies I know use magic only for good," Soarin said. "But there are a few bad eggs every now and then."

"Yeah..."

"Sorta like... your human world and technology, huh?" Soarin smiled calmly. "I've gotten the impression that you've got a few bad eggs too."

"Pffft. A few good eggs, you mean."

"Huh?"

"Believe me. If magic was as rampant in my world as it was in yours? We'd have a Saruman nine times out of ten instead of a Gandalf."

"Uhhhhhhhh—"

"I mean we'd corrupt that shiet, bro." Flash's nostrils flared. "After all why not? Technology only stands out when we need weapons for war or ways to pollute our world even more."

"Surely it can't all be that terrible."

Flash opened his muzzle... then fidgeted. He resumed staring at the unicorn's work below.

"I mean..." Soarin chuckled. "Don't you have doctors and caregivers in your world? Engineers and scientists? They can't mostly be bad if there's some sort of civilization to speak for itself! C uz... if your world is anything nearly as terrible as you seem to paint it, I can't see how anyone would survive a single day!"

"And yet we do," Flash muttered. "For what it's worth."

Soarin smoothed his bangs back, smiling. "I think you could use some more magic in your life, bro."

"I already told you, humans would only—"

"I wasn't talking about humans. I was talking about you." Soarin smirked. "And you're not exactly human right now, are you?"

Flash was silent for a while. Eventually, he leaned back with a sigh. "So... what? Do I grow a horn from my skull?" He smiled tiredly at his friend. "Seems that only unicorns use magic in this place."

"And that makes you an ignoramus."

"Huh?"

Soarin laughed. "Pegasi are sooooooo magical, dude."

"We are?"

"Yes! And earth ponies too! And horses and zebras and mules and—you name it! We've all got magic, bro."

"But... how...?"

"You think it's just your wings keeping you in the air?" Soarin' winked. "Without magic, we'd all drop like anvils the moment we kicked off the ground."

"We... that..." Soarin fidgeted. "Pegasus flight isn't natural?"

"Nope! All this time, you've had flight magic on your side. Don't believe me? I went for a few days without magic after Tirek went on his rampage and stole them from us. Made me feel like a bulldozer with fuzzy ears."

"Yeesh... that sucks."

"It did. But then we were saved by the Princess of Friendship. I couldn't be more grateful. So... how does it feel?"

"How does what feel?"

"To know that you've spent your entire time as a pony being magical?" Soarin smiled. "And yet... during all of that time... has your human essence reared its ugly head and done nasty stuff with the gift?"

"... ... ..." Flash Sentry shrugged. "I dunno. Maybe I just... haven't figured out something devious enough to do yet."

"Come on, bro." Soarin shook his head. "Has it occurred to you that maybe life isn't quite as awful on the other side of the portal?"

"Well..."

"Maybe... just maybe..." Soarin's expression turned deadpan for a second. "...it only feels awful."

Flash traced lines across the railing. He muttered in a low tone: "You don't know what it's like over there, Soarin."

"You're right. I don't." Soarin nodded. "All I've got to learn from is you. And you seem pretty okay in my book."

Flash glanced at him.

"Maybe you just gotta learn to cut yourself a break, Flash," Soarin said. "If there's at least another person from your world that's anything like you, then that's something to be super glad for. Don't you think?"

"I... I don't know..."

Soarin shrugged. "Fair enough. But maybe..." He looked over the railing again. "...you just gotta look harder, y'know? Look for the good humans... the ones who do good things for other people. Like the Crystal Empire's court wizard here."

Flash squinted his eyes. "He's the court wizard?"

"You bet! Moved in shortly after the Empire resurfaced. He's pledged his services to the crytal citizens here. He's even agreed to help the stewards raise their child—Princess Flurry Heart."

"Snazzy."

"Uh huh."

"What's... uh..." Flash blinked. "What's his name?"

"Ah jeez..." Soarin tapped his chin in thought. "It's a typical unicorn one. Uhhhh... 'Sunset!'"

Flash sliced at him with narrow eyes. "Sunset?"

"Er. No. 'Sunburst!' That's it! Heh..." Soarin blushed slightly. "I guess 'Sunset' is a tad bit more feminine, huh?"

"God, I'd hope so."

"Ah! A magic show!" Fancy Pants inexplicably showed up, leaning against the railing beside the two younger stallions. "Correct that—court wizardry! Oh, well how simply marvelous. It's certainly a great deal humbler than what's on display in Canterlot. I rather like it."

"Hello, Mr. Pants," Soarin remarked, giving a casual salute. "I thought you were going to speak with the Stewards about the festivities."

"Mmmmm..." Fancy Pants sighed. "I already have, my good fellow."

Flash Sentry blinked, concerned. "What's wrong?"

"Ah, Brad... ever the empathetic one." Fancy smiled gently, patting the stallion's shoulder. He weathered another sigh. "I'm afraid we've stumbled upon... something of an impasse..."

Disorganized

"Please forgive me, Mr. Pants," Soarin stammered, trotting alongside Flash Sentry and the unicorn in question. "Could you... run these positions by us again?"

"Absolutely, my good fellow." Fancy Pants and the two younger stallions trotted leisurely around a watery fountain in a park far from the inner ring of the Crystal Empire. The tower and its glimmering aurora loomed brightly overhead in the crisp northern air. "Let's see... there's the Imperial Overseer of Civil Relations, the Imperial State Magistrate, and—last but not least—the Crystal Ambassador."

"All three of these ponies are needed for what you and your business partners are planning?" Flash asked.

"It's a great deal more complicated than that, Brad. But—in answer to your question—essentially yes." Fancy Pants weathered an anxious sigh. "According to Crystal Imperial tradition, a board of democratically-appointed ponies manage both official and ceremonial functions within the political body of the state. The Overseer, the Magistrate, and the Ambassador are absolutely crucial to the Crystal Empire joining the Equestrian Union."

"And these three super important ponies are..." Soarin craned his neck. "...missing?"

"No! Goddess, no!" Fancy Pants cleared his throat. "Not missing! Simply... indisposed."

"Indisposed? How?"

"They are... currently conducting trade negotiations with the Yakyakistanians to the north."

"The who?" Flash asked.

Soarin waved him off. "Save it, Brad."

"Who could possibly live more north than these ponies?" Flash Sentry cackled, gesturing at the aurora overhead. "Just where do these Yakyakistanians hang out? Ontario?"

"If you must know, it's a nation of burly and most-often-disagreeable yaks who live up in the mountains," Fancy Pants gestured towards the erratic horizon in question. "Their patronage to Equestria was won solely by the good graces of Princess Twilight and her closest companions. Ever since then, the Crystal Imperialists have had greater ease with dealing with them... although the yaks still remain quite unpredictable. Heeding their impulsive nature takes the constant attention of the Crystal Empire's best negotiators."

"Ah." Soarin nodded. "So that's why these three representatives are off in Yakyakistan."

"Precisely," Fancy Pants said.

"Well... that sucks!" Flash Sentry pouted. "All the work you and Mr. Rich and Prince Blueblood put into the diamond dogs! It's totally wasted!"

"Oh no!" Fancy Pants chuckled breathily, shaking his head. "No no no no no no no..."

"Wait... so..." Flash fidgeted. "...the Crystal Empire is... still going to join the Equestrian Union?"

"Absolutely! It's just going to have to wait a bit longer than normal because these three chief politicans have their hooves full of dealing with the Yakyakistanians right now," Fancy Pants said. "Unification is not the problem. Prince Blueblood has spoken with the stewards, and the governing body of the Empire is already prepared to make arrangements now that the crystalline jewels are being supplied by High Paw. The trade deal was a complete success."

"Well... cool then!" Flash nodded. "So what's the big problem?"

"It's simply that..." Fancy Pants scuffled to a stop, sighing. He telekinetically dabbed his sweating forehead with a handkerchief. "...we all had our hopes set on everything transpiring without a hitch. There was to be a celebration enjoyed by both Imperialists and Equestrians alike..."

"To ring in the latest addition to the Equestrian Union," Flash remarked. "The Crystal Empire—the newest state."

"Precisely." Fancy Pants gulped. "But—on top of officiating the political sphere of unification—these three representatives are also tasked with organizing events within the communal sphere... so to speak."

"Eh...?"

"They're also in charge of making sure that the festivities transpire in ways that are 'culturally acceptable.' That is to say... they give the final say to the events that unfold... for whatever major public occasion."

"They're also party organizers?"

"To some extent. But it matters very little now. They are gone and... and..." Fancy Pants tucked the handkerchief away and bit his lip. "...I-I've already had Spitfire's spare wingmates fly off to send invites out to Equestria's finest and most elite."

"Soooooooo..." Flash Sentry blinked. "...we've got a bunch of super big-deal ponies coming in from all parts of the continent for a party that's no longer happening."

"That... would seem to be the case at the moment."

"Mr. Pants, with all due respect." Soarin smirked glibly. "I do think you and your fellow partners went a little ahead of yourselves."

"Alas!" Fancy Pants wheezed through a bittersweet smile. "Someday my optimism will be the ruin of me!"

"Could... those messengers..." Flash turned to look at Soarin. "...be stopped and made to come back?"

"Pffft. You mean pegasi from Spitfire's team?" Soarin shook his head. "They would have reached their destinations from now. Fancy Pants is right to be worried. Dignitaries from abroad are likely packing their bags as we speak."

"This would not have been a problem had the three representatives been present and accounted for instead of off in Yakyakistan!" Fancy Pants grumbled. "We had all dreamt that this week's festivities would bring much-needed hope and enthusiasm to hundreds of thousands of citizens terribly longing for the long-belated union of Equestria and the Crystal Empire. Now they'll arrive only to... twiddle their fetlocks and do nothing. Not that it's such a terrible thing, really. This kingdom is positively radiant to all visitors..."

"Still, this is... kind of embarrassing," Soarin muttered.

"Yes. Quite." Fancy Pants adjusted his collar while staring into the fountain. "There's no escaping the fact."

"Isn't there, though?" Flash trotted around to face Fancy Pants directly. "The Crystal Imperialists have so much to gain from this union! Surely they can make an exception in this case!"

"Brad's right," Soarin said. "The stewards—Shining Armor and Princess Cadance—are on our side with this. Right?"

"I would certainly say so—!"

"Then get them to work with us!" Soarin gestured. "Have them assign a new group of party planners to work in the three representatives' stead! I'm sure nopony will mind if the festivities precede the actual unification!"

"There's gotta be somepony up to the task!" Flash added.

"Oh, there are! There truly are!" Fancy Pants fidgeted. "And... sadly... that is where the problem mostly lies."

"How so...?" Soarin remarked.

Flash Sentry blinked. "You three," he finally stated. "You... Mr. Rich... Prince Blueblood... you all want to be the new organizers." He gulped. "Only... you can't seem to agree on how to arrange things, can you?"

Fancy Pants hung his head shamefully.

"Really?" Soarin suppressed the urge to chuckle. "This is the impasse?"

"We all have very different... opinions." Fancy Pants cleared his throat. "I feel that—since this deals with the Equestrian government—then we should have the finest hosts from Equestria's capital—Canterlot—appear in full regalia! Mr. Rich thinks differently. I must admit that his idea is most noble—to reel in musicians, artists, and culinary specialists from all across Equestria proper. But it's a tad bit too ambitious for the narrow space of time we have to work with. And Prince Blueblood—Goddess love him—wants only to utilize the servants from his and other royal houses."

"Well, compromise!" Flash exclaimed. "Somepony's gotta make a compromise!"

"And I have," Fancy Pants said, standing tall and proud. "I've conceded to Mr. Rich's plan... which still may be feasible if we get all concerned participants to work together! Only... there remains one chief problem..."

Flash's brow furrowed. "Blueblood."

"Stubborn to the very end," Fancy Pants muttered. "I certainly learned a lesson or two in humility from our recent venture. A pity that he hasn't..."

"So..." Soarin leaned back, rubbing his chin in thought. "...you and Filthy Rich have agreed to the same idea as to how to run the festivities. But Blueblood's holding out on his own concept."

"Indeed. And—ironically, like the denizens of High Paw—we simply cannot do this any way but unanimously. Or else all of our resources will be splintered and we'll end up shaming the Crystal Empire with a half-arsed function for those visiting from abroad!"

"Hmmmm..." Flash paced back and forth beside the fountain. "... ... ...Mr. Pants, you said that the stewards would be willing to assign party organizers in place of the usual representatives?"

"Yes. With their blessing. But—splintered pathetically as we currently are—I doubt we will be able to honor their most noble appointment."

"Then maybe the answer..." Flash turned around with a dumb grin. "...is to appoint another group altogether!"

Fancy Pants blinked.

"Braddddd..." Soarin squinted. "...just what do you have in mind?"

Cider

Spitfire's eyes crossed.

"Brllgrkkktt!"

She pulled the mug of cider from her mouth, slapped it onto the bar counter, and sputtered half the contents of her latest sip. Once this gargling attack had run its course, she wiped her flame-yellow muzzle dry and grimaced at Soarin.

"You want me to do what?!"

Soarin and Flash Sentry stood casually beside her in the inner-city tavern. Crystal pony patrons glanced nervously at the scene before returning to their various tables and discussions.

"I'd like you to pledge the Wonderbolts to organizing the festivities for the Crystal Empire's unification with Equestria!" Soarin grinned wide. "Simple as pie!"

"'Simple' my aerodynamic butt!" Spitfire sneered. "And don't make analogies out of your food fetishes!"

"Spitfire—"

"Soarin, do I friggin' look like a party clown?" The lines in Spitfire's muzzle hardened. "I know we're on ground leave, but I'm the Captain of the Wonderbolts! I'm needed in an aerial authority capacity! Public relations just isn't my forte! It never has been!"

"And guess what!" Soarin smiled. "You won't have to do any of the dirty work! All I'm asking you to do is to approach the stewards in the Crystal Palace and tell them that the Wonderbolts are willing to pick up the ball that the three officials had no choice but to drop while negotiating with the Yakyakistanians!"

"But still..." Spitfire leaned against the bar while arching an eyebrow. "You're asking me to use the Wonderbolts as some sort of community organizers..."

"And how is that any different from how we normally roll?" Soarin shrugged. "All of those public acrobatic shows performed for flight camps? Our appearances at the Cloudsdalian flight competition?"

"This will be a lot like that!" Flash Sentry interjected. "Only—a teensy step up! But think about it!" He winked, teeth glinting through his smile. "The only reason Prince Blueblood and his associates got anything to work out with the canine packs of Highpaw is because they had you and your wingmates to help out! By your authority the Midnight Oil was able to complete its delivery, assure prosperity for the Crystal Empire, and rein in a new chapter in Equestrian history!"

"Who better to welcome the Crystal Empire to the Union than the group that made sure such a venture would be possible?" Soarin gestured. "You're our captain, Spitfire. All we need you to do is get the stewards permission."

"M-maybe give them the same pitch we just gave you," Flash said, smiling nervously.

"Then you can leave the rest of the work to us!"

Spitfire's eyes narrowed. "Who's us?"

"Uhhhhhh..." Soarin looked at Flash.

Flash looked at Soarin.

"Let me worry about that." Soarin cleared his throat and smiled at Spitfire again. "And let me handle the management of the festivities."

"Which involves...?"

"Finding caterers, entertainers, decorators, and musicians to help the Crystal Empire host this event," Soarin explained.

"Fancy Pants says that several dignitaries and nobles and other big pony names from all across Equestria have already been summoned," Flash Sentry interjected. "But because of the typical organizers and representatives being held up in Yakyakistan, Blueblood and his associates risk embarrassing the Crystal Empire if they don't set things up super quick!"

"That's where we come in!" Soarin winked. "Aside from representing the bravest and boldest of Equestrian might—are we not the fastest equines alive?"

Spitfire sighed long and hard. Rubbing her temple, she gazed thinly at Flash. "Let me guess." She nodded her head at the teenager. "This was all Acne-Flank's idea."

"Gotta admit, Spitfire. The kid's genius comes through right when we most need it." Soarin cleared his throat. "And he hasn't got acne on his flank. Just a shield and a lightning bolt."

"Whoah!" Flash gawked at his own fuzzy butt. "That's a shield? I thought it was an Atari Jaguar controller dipped in blue paint!"

"Rnnngh..." Spitfire facehoof'd. "Goddesses, spare me..."

"I know it's a strange request at the last second, but Equestria needs somepony to intervene. The Wonderbolts are in the right place at the right time. On behalf of the Crystal Empire... on behalf of Prince Blueblood and his associates... on behalf of the stewards and the denizens of High Paw and Equestrian citizens everywhere..." He leaned forward. "...won't you let us save the day?"

Spitfire inhaled... exhaled. After a few seconds of silence, she squinted at her second-in-command once again. "And you're sure I won't be bugged constantly about this?"

Soarin crossed his heart. "I promise. Once you deliver the message to the stewards, you won't have to lift another feather. Leave the rest of it to me. I'll recruit all of the wingmates I have to and we'll round up the ponies we need to make the festivities go smoothely."

"Well, you'd better move your tail," Spitfire muttered. "This ain't our normal line of work, and nopony at HQ knows a thing about it. So I can't promise anypony extra pay for what's essentially a bunch of volunteer crap." Her brow furrowed. "You do remember that we're supposed to be on ground leave until the Midnight Oil is ready to drift off again?"

"I'm well aware."

"So you'll be cutting into everypony's R&R time." Spitfire chuckled wryly, lifting her mug back to her lips. "Good friggin' luck getting volunteers."

"Oh, I think we'll do well!" Flash grinned. "This whole event can only be fun!"

After taking a sip, Spitfire studied Flash quizzically. "Celestia on a bike, you're a queer kind of duck. You'd better have a bunch of fireworks under that stiff upper lip of yours, kid, or else this whole crazy plan's gonna go straight into the cesspool."

Flash's eyes narrowed on her. "Well, it won't be going anywhere until the matter is first brought to the stewards," he said. "And swiftly."

Soarin bit his lip.

Spitfire's eyes remained locked on Flash—even as she brought the mug one final time to her lips and gulped the last of its contents. Stifling a belch, she stood up from the bar stool, swept her fight goggles up from the counter, and made for the door. "Alright, then." Her tail flicked as she crossed the tavern. "Let it never be written that I wasn't a 'generous captain.'"

Flash bowed from a distance. "It's very much appreciated, Ms. Spitfire—"

"Don't powder your parisol yet, Daisy." Spitfire grasped the door and threw a squinting glance over her shoulder. "I'm not doing this for you."

Soarin's eyes reflected a trailing smirk, and then the Wonderbolt Captain was gone. He exhaled a pent-up breath and leaned against the nearby bar for support.

Flash glanced at him. "You really shouldn't treat talking to her like going ten full rounds against Ivan Drago."

"Even if I knew what that meant..." Soarin ran a hoof through his mane, shuddering. "...I'd still say you were full of it."

"Dude, relax!" Flash smiled and patted Soarin's shoulder. "We've got something awesome to do and you've helped make it happen! Give yourself some credit." He winked. "The two of you have worked together for a super long time. She respects you more than you care to realize."

"I just... don't want to take advantage of that trust."

"Pffft. If you ask me, you've earned it."

"Still, I hope she's not mad at me."

"Nah. You're overreacting, bro."

"You really think so...?"

"I once dated a girl like her. The whole 'female dog' thing is just a front... and one that's easily dissolved." Flash smiled. "For real—once life finds a way to give it a permanent belly-rub, you'll find someone reasonable and friendly hiding underneath."

Soarin smirked back. "Lessons from Girl Number One?"

"Lessons I should have learned a long time ago," Flash said with a belated sigh. He shook his head. "Don't let your friends forever turn into strangers, dude. In the end... you'll only have yourself to blame."

"Mmmmm... I don't know about all that."

Flash shrugged. "Again, that's just from my human experience."

"And what of your pony experience?"

Flash swallowed. "Jury's still out."

"Yeah, I can buy that."

Silence.

"Sooooo..." Soarin stretched his muscles. "Now we play the waiting game."

"How long does it usually take to have a full conversation with the stewards of the Crystal Empire?"

"Depends on whether or not Princess Cadance is having her mane styled."

"Heheheheheh..."

Soarin gestured at the bar. "Want a mug of cider?"

"I... dunno. Just how hard is the the cider?"

"What do you mean?"

"Cuz I'm not twenty-one, man."

Soarin gasped. "You mean you're not old enough to earn your flier's license?!?! All this time you lied to me!!!"

Flash paled. His ears drooped in momentary horror.

"... ... ...snkkkt...!" Soarin guffawed, then slapped Flash's shoulder. "Hahahaha!"

Flash exhaled with relief, his wings drooping. "Sonuvabitch... you had me for a second."

"Just one mug. To get you started."

"Sure, what the Hell. If I'm going to get drunk for the first time it might as well be when I'm already fuzzy."

Headache

Flash Sentry's head hurt. Perhaps that was the reason why he chose to relax on a street corner at ground level. The human teenager cooped up inside the pegasus body feared that inexplicable vertigo from a great height might exacerbate the pain.

The pain...

"Unnngh..." Flash Sentry gritted his teeth as he rubbed his forehead. "...'cider' my ass. That stuff could tear a hole through Keith Richards' stomach." He stifled a burp—a very bile-flavored burp. "Maybe... mrrrmfff... I should spend a full century in a winged horse's body before I try anything that's remotely intoxicating..."

He was talking to himself—of course—to pass the time. Otherwise he would be pacing wildly in circles. He was positioned in the shadow of the Crystal Empire's central castle. The sky-piercing space needle of a palace stretched high up until it crowned at the nexus of a rippling aurora overhead, and if Flash stared at it too long he felt that he was going to throw up.

It had nearly been an hour, and still there was no word from the Wonderbolts' Captain Spitfire. At first, Flash wasn't alone; Soarin had waited along with him after their brief, hilarious episode in the tavern. But time had limped by, and so Soarin excused himself to go check on Spitfire's progress—more out of concern than anything, or so the older stallion had insisted.

Now—as Flash bided his time, waiting for the effects of the cider to fade from his equine skull—the teenager was starting to wonder if perhaps his luck had finally struck a brick wall. His cranium certainly felt like that was the case.

"What if..." His brow furrowed, and that sent more sharp pangs down his spine. "Hrmmmmff... vodka... straight vodka." His ears flicked, as if trying to vent steam. "Would that make me explode after a single shot? Or... like... does it all work oppositely in this place?" His nostrils flared. "Go figure. Just a few sips of Carpi-Sun and I'd be pissing all over the Horse Alamo."

Something red flew past him. Flash's beleaguered brain went wild with speculation, and an old synapse that hadn't fired off in years suddenly imagined a polygonal rocket from Quake 2.

"Guhhh!" He ducked spontaneously, only to find himself staring at the scampering hooves of two tiny crystalline creatures coming to a shuffling stop on the shiny sidewalk.

"Awwwwwww!"

"You kicked it too far!"

"Rats! Now we'll never get our ball back!"

Flash Sentry relaxed... slowly standing back up. He found himself staring down at two crystal pony foals who were... staring up past him. Their sad little eyes reflected the roof of a polished granite building.

"You think anypony's home? Maybe they've got a ladder or something!"

"Nuh uh! I'm not knocking on their door!"

"Why not? You're the one who kicked the ball!"

"The last time I asked for help, this old lady breathed on me and tried telling me stories of King Sombra's secret gardening dungeon—"

"Hey... uh..." Flash Sentry pivoted about—wobbled slightly—then regained his balance. "Did someone score a field goal or what?" He smiled dizzily down at the two foals. "Just where did it go?"

Two little forelimbs pointed at the building front behind the stallion.

"Up there."

"It's stuck on the roof!"

"Wow! For real?" Flash's muzzle formed a twisted grin. "Did you both kick that from across the street? Wow... you bucked it like Beckhorse!" He snorted, slapping his hoof multiple times against the sidewalk. "Get it? Cuz you're ponies! And... and...—"

Both foals merely blinked at him.

"Ahem. Here..." Flash stretched his wings out. Despite the state of his head, he found that he was more than capable of levitating to roof level. "Rest easy, buddies. I'll get it for you."

"Wow, really?"

"Thanks! That's so awesome of you!"

"Least I can do." Flash easily found the red ball situated on the buildingtop. "I'm happy to be an anti-Biff Tannen any day." He paused briefly, squinting. "Wow. These folks really need to get their gutters cleaned."

"Do you see the ball?"

"I'll do you one better!" Flash grabbed it, floated back down, and hoofed it over to the kids. "There you are! Now go. Teach the Germans not to bully Brazil ever again." He smirked. "Aaaaaaaaaaand that's the extent of my soccer knowledge. I'm no Rainbow Dash."

"Jee, thanks, Lieutenant!" one foal shouted, galloping off with the ball.

"You're the best guard ever!" the other said, scampering off.

Flash Sentry was frozen in place—frozen with his kind smile. He blinked through the sudden fog, standing up straight. He spoke after the kids, although his voice was too feeble to quite catch up with them: "Who... who exactly d-do you think I am?"

"Flash! Flash Sentry!"

The teenager flinched hard. He spun around, heart stopping—

"Cool!" Soarin sailed down swiftly and landed before him. "Right where I left you!"

"Oh. Soarin!" Flash exhaled with relief. "Thank Buddha. Look... uhm..." He shivered with a brand new anxiety. "Could we... uh... go back inside for a moment? I think that there might be—"

"Good news!" Soarin grinned wide. "Spitfire got the green light from the stewards!"

"Huh?" Flash's brain ticked... then ticked some more. Suddenly he was beaming. "Oh! Sweet! Killer! The festivities—"

"The bad news is..." Soarin squinted. "We've barely got two days to get it all set up. Apparently winged messengers have already confirmed that those invited have RSVP'd. Everypony who's everypony will be showing up at the Crystal Empire's doorstep, expecting a crazy good show."

"Did... did something happen to Spitfire?"

"She used to work alongside the Captain of the Guard back when the Wonderbolts provided aerial support to Canterlot's security," Soarin explained. "She got caught up chatting with the stewards. I'd say she's having a grand ol' time."

"Well, that's awesome."

"For her, maybe. But now the heat's on us." Soarin gritted his teeth. "The ball's in our court, Flash. What are we going to do?"

"You asking me?"

"Snrkkkt—grkkkf—bffffft!" Soarin's conniption fit threw him down a gauntlet of sound effects. "Pffft—wasn't this your friggin' idea from the very start?! I was hoping you would know what to do—"

"Hahahahaha—"

"Bro!" Soarin punched him in the shoulder, nevertheless smirking. "Sometimes I just wanna suplex you!"

"A pony suplex. Now that I'd pay to see."

"You'll be paying with your teeth if you screw this up! Both of us will! Now..." He leaned in. "What's the plan? Cuz I know you've got one. Or... at least..." The older stallion fidgeted. "...you're always on the cusp of making one."

"Well, let's roll through the situation one more time." Flash winced from a slight pain to his head. The effects of the cider were starting to wear off, and he spoke through the last layers of fog. "The celebration needs caterers... musicians... and decorators, right?"

"Yeah." Flash nodded. "Those are our chief three priorities."

"And our Midnight Oil buddies can't agree on who to hire."

"Right." Soarin sighed and rolled his eyes. "Fancy Pants wants to hire from Canterlot. Filthy Rich wants to hire from everywhere. And the Prince wants to hire from himself."

"So..." Flash smiled... and smiled and smiled. His eyes filled with the color of the aurora. "...the obvious solution is not to hire from any of those sources."

"Buh?" Soarin buh'd. He shook his head until his eyes were straight again. "Then... where in Tartarus do you plan to find life-saving caterers, musicians, and decorators this late in the game?"

"Hmmmmmmmmm..." Flash lifted Vinyl Scratch's headphones and placed them back over his head. "Where indeed?" He activated the manacrystal inside the device, winking through an opening salvo of music. "Ready to stretch your wings, dude?"

Opportunity

Tap tap tap! Tap tap!

A cream-colored hoof anxiously slapped the keys of a mechanical calculator. A tiny print ribbon scratched and rattled, producing strings of numbers reflected off a pair of worried blue eyes.

Eventually, Bon Bon sighed. She leaned back from the counter of her candy shop and rubbed her forehead... ears drooping.

"That bad, huh?" Lyra murmured, sitting at a lone table across the empty front lobby.

"No." Bon Bon gulped, her face forming hard, frustrated lines. "It's worse."

Lyra winced. "Come on, B.B. No reason to fret that much!" She smiled hopefully... nervously. "Everypony's just... out and enjoying the weather! Now that the gutters are clean, all we need to do is set up a few more chairs outside and that'll bring the clients rolling in like a stampede!"

"Lyra..." Bon Bon trotted lethargically around the counter, her hooves making woeful clops against the cold tile floor. "...honey." She slowly shook her head. "This is just the pattern of things over the past month. Ponyville isn't as easy a place to sell sweets like it used to be. Now that the Castle of Friendship has been established here, local tourism has reeled in a bunch of new businesses with way better funds than my establishment ever had. I just... I-I just can't compete!"

"It's... it's not all downhill, is it?" Lyra stifled a whimper. "I-I couldn't stand to see all that you worked for sink to Tartarus!"

"Oh Lyra..." Bon Bon smiled gently. She leaned in to nuzzle the unicorn. "I'm not so foolish that I haven't drummed up a backup plan." A deep breath. "Even if things are as bad as they seem, I've invested enough money in savings to float for a bit as I... seek new avenues."

"But this store means so much to you!"

"Yeah..." Bon Bon stared out the window. "...yeah."

"Maybe..." Lyra's tail flicked. "I-I can go out and do more music gigs! Rake in the bits for the two of us!"

"You mean just like Vinyl and Octavia have tried?" Bon Bon smiled crookedly. "Only to come up dry—over and over again?"

Lyra's muzzle hung open. She deflated in her seat, suddenly close to tears. "Oh B.B.... what are we going to do?"

"It's okay, Lyra. As long as we have each other—"

"But you deserve so much more!" Lyra sniffled. "I-I should have helped you gain so much more! If... if only something magical in this world could fall into our laps as it did for the Princes of Friendship—"

The front door's bell rang.

Both mares turned to look. They both did a double-take.

"What the...?"

"Brad...?"

Flash Sentry stepped in—struggling to catch his breath. His mane and wingfeathers were wind-toss'd, and the handsome stallion standing behind him looked no neater.

"Heya, girls!" Flash wheezed through a dumb smile. "You busy?"

Bon Bon and Lyra exchanged glances.

Bon Bon then squinted at him. "Busy when...? You mean right now?"

Flash grinned. "I mean for the rest of your lives."

"Uhhhhh..."

"Brad? What are you talking about?"

His teeth glinted. "I'm talking about the opportunity of a lifetime." He motioned with his hoof. "Come on."

Swoosh

"The Crystal Empire?!" Cup Cake held a hoof over her muzzle. She leaned against the glass counter of Sugarcube Corner in a desperate attempt not to faint. "You mean... the Crystal Crystal Empire?"

"With the crystal ponies?" Carrot Cake likewise blinked in disbelief. "With the crystal palace?"

"Made of cr-crystal?" Cup Cake added with a whimper.

Soarin hovered in the corner, munching liberally on a plate of banana bread. He watched as Flash stood beside Lyra Heartstrings and Bon Bon, smiling at the older couple.

"That's the place! Not that long of a flight by wing—I discovered. Still, they're needing caterers to entertain a buttload of Equestrian dignitaries." He took a step back and smiled at the three mares and one stallion in his sights. "And I couldn't think of anyone else better suited for the job!"

"That's... it's just... we're..." Cup Cake fanned herself as she turned to look at her husband. "The Crystal Empire!"

"Brad..." Bon Bon's eyes narrowed. "Do you even know anypony else? Much less those in the baking capacity?"

"B.B.!" Lyra frowned at her, dimples turning pink. "Be nice! You of all ponies should know better than to look a gift horse in the mouth!"

"I'm just as flabbergasted as Mr. And Mrs. Cake here." Bon Bon's ears folded as she looked at Flash. "You say that Prince Blueblood, Filthy Rich, and Fancy Pants are the ones responsible for this unification?"

"Yuppers!"

"Don't they... like... have a bunch of noble servants waiting in line to do this sort of a thing? It's... it's such a tall order!"

"Not when you've got the talent and guts to deliver!" Flash grinned. "And I know that you guys are absolutely fantastic!"

"For real?" Carrot Cake smirked. "Or do you just happen to like us?"

"You are absolutely fantastic!"" Flash gestured. "Besides... Filthy and Fancy both agree that they'd rather the celebration attendees sample the finest of non-aristocratic Equestria... if that makes any sense."

"It doesn't," Bon Bon said. "But somehow I'm inclined to agree anyways."

"Yeah!" Lyra beamed. "If the Crystal Empire ponies wanna taste what's best from Equestria, there's nothing better than my Bon Bon's candies!" She blushed, then smiled at the other two. "And Mr. And Mrs. Cakes' bakes, of course."

"But of course, dear," Cup Cake said with a nod, then looked at Flash again. "They can't all be wanting dessert items at this sort of an event..."

"That's okay." Flash looked past her at Carrot. "Cuz I bet you know how to fit all orders."

"Oh! Absolutely!" Carrot nodded briskly. "It's in my name, after all. Vegetables? Fruit? Breaded snacks? You name it!"

"The best that Ponyville has to offer!" Flash nodded back. "Which—in turn—is the best Equestria has to offer! I have no doubt!"

"Mrrrmmff... not too far from the truth, actually." Soarin spoke in between bites, pointing at his plate. "Best banana bread I've ever had."

"Well, you're quite welcome," Carrot said with a happy lilt in his voice.

"Do they expect us to bring our own supplies?" Bon Bon asked, squinting. "Because... you make it sound like we'd be serving hundreds if not thousands of ponies."

Flash bowed low. "The kitchens and cooks of the Crystal Empire are at your beck and call..." A beat. He looked over at Soarin. "Right?"

"Absolutely."

"The kitchens and cooks of the Crystal Empire are at your beck and call!" Flash winked. "All you gotta do is arrive at the Palace, provided your expert baking brains, then point and click!"

"Point... and... click...?" Lyra blinked.

"Just direct everypony around," Soarin said. "The stewards—Princess Cadance and Shining Armor—are providing the bits." His ears twitched. "Spitfire and the Wonderbolts will vouch for you."

"So... this is a joint function between the Crystal Empire and the Wonderbolts?" Carrot asked.

"And now with Ponyville!" Flash exclaimed cheerfully. "Ponyville's finest, as a matter of fact!"

"Yee-hee-hee-heeeeee!" Lyra did a little jig in place, then leaned aside to rub her fuzzy cheek against's Bon Bon's. "You'regonnabefamous! You'regonnabefamous! You'regonnabefamoussss!"

"Guh... Lyraaaaaaa..." Bon Bon gently urged the mare aside and looked at Flash again. "Brad... this is all very much appreciated. But... it's also kinda last second, don't you think?"

"The best things in life are," Soarin said. "Or so I've discovered."

"I just want you to get the best possible opportunity to let the world see how wonderful your talent and generosity is," Flash said.

"But... why?" Bon Bon cocked her head curiously to the side. "Why come back all the way for us? What did we ever do to deserve this?"

Flash opened his muzzle. He blinked. He looked at Soarin... flicked his ears... then looked back at Bon Bon. "Because... you're... nice...?"

Bon Bon opened her muzzle.

Lyra spoke with the menace of serrated daggers: "Say 'thank you,' B.B."

Defeated, Bon Bon sighed through a tired smile. "Thank you, B.B."

"Cake?" Flash looked over his shoulder. "Cake-squared? How about you two?"

The couple exchanged glances. At last, it was Mrs. Cake who exhaled heavily, smiling in Flash's direction. "Oh, what the hay. We could definitely use the means to put our little ones through college."

"Awesome sauce!"

"Sooooo... uhm..." Carrot Cake straightened his apron. "When exactly are the festivities beginning?"

"Oh..." Flash shrugged. "Two and a half days from now."

Three sets of eyes bugged instantly. Lyra was left blinking.

"Wait..." Lyra traced an invisible clock in the air. "Two and a half days... that's less than a week, right?"

"Buhhhhhh..." Bon Bon trembled, trying not to faint. "Buhhhhhhhhhhhhhh—"

"Speechless! I would be too! Whelp!" Flash Sentry rubbed his hooves together. "Soarin and Spitfire already procured train tickets! Next ride to the Crystal Empire is in an hour. Better get packing!"

Flash turned from the stunned poies and smiled at Soarin.

"Well, that was easy!" Flash exclaimed.

"Uhhhh... Flash?" Soarin hovered within whispering distance, his eyes worriedly plastered on the four dumbfounded equines. "...are we getting a bit ahead of ourselves here?"

"You're riiiiiiiiiiight..." Flash nodded. "How could I be so foolish?" He beamed. "The music performance!"

"Uhhhh..."

"Don't worry, buddy." Flash gave the headphones over his neck a shake and smirked. "I know just where to go and who to talk to.

"Somehow... that doesn't surprise me."

"Quick question."

"Shoot."

Flash squinted out the nearby window. "Just... where on Canterlot Mountain is... y'know... Canterlot?"

"You see that big city looming on the southwest precipice?"

"Yeah? What, is Canterlot behind it?"

"... ... ..."

"Come on, Soarin, buddy!" Flash galloped out of Sugarcube Corner. "Let's not waste anytime!"

With a soft sigh, Soarin floated after him. He smiled over his shoulder at the others in attendance. "We'll... uh... we'll talk again soon. Promise."

"Buhhhhh... buhhhhhhhhhhhh," Bon Bon continued.

"Easy for you to say." Sw-Swooosh!

Thap

An ornate door opened to the cobblestone streets of downtown Canterlot. A middle-aged mare with a velvet sleeve'd hoof held the front entrance to the agency ajar, sporting a practiced smile that was just as plastic as her voice: "I'm sorry we couldn't offer you anything better for the time being."

"Oh, it is quite alright," Octavia spoke pleasantly—just as practiced. She and Vinyl Scratch trotted out onto the sidewalk. Cool mountain air embraced them with a slight gust that toyed with their manes. "I only hope that our discussion—however brief—has properly assured you of the talents we have to provide."

"Most assuredly." The mare smiled, performing a quick bow... nod... or something in between. "I will make sure that you two will be the first to hear from us in the event that a fresh new opportunity blooms."

"We await with eager antici—" Octavia began.

Th-Thap! The door to the agency closed.

"—pation." Octavia sighed.

Vinyl Scratch performed a gesture involving her tongue and the side of her left fetlock.

"Viny, love, please!" Octavia hissed at her. Turning tail, she briskly trotted down the sidewalk with her companion in tow. "No need to be so horribly vulgar."

Vinyl shrugged, sighing out her nostrils.

"Yes... I know... I know..." Octavia muttered into the air, ears slowly drooping like melted wax. "But the fact of the matter is, we must remain ever so persistently polite. There's no telling which of these agencies may in fact wish to call upon our services. It would do us well to leave them with a positive and well-mannered impression!"

Vinyl's eyebrow arched above her shades.

"Alright... so perhaps we have indeed entreated the gracious attention of over two dozen establishments... but that does not change things! I shan't lose the faculty to maintain benevolent airs! No matter how..." Octavia slumped in mid-trot. "...infuriating the constant rejection is." A huff.

The two came to a limp stop at a street corner. The rattle of stagecoaches and clopping hooves penetrated the silence of the melancholic moment. A setting sun skimmed the rooftops surrounding them, peppering the high mountain air with golden rays of stubborn daylight.

"Do they think we are lower than them?" Octavia muttered. "And I don't mean in terms of altitude—of course. The denizens of Canterlot would always come out victorious in that case."

Vinyl whistled. With a smirk, she raised her forelimbs and charaded a cloud.

"Yes—well—true. But, granted, the pegasi of Cloudsdale are made of far better mettle. Not to mention a modicum of humility." Octavia frowned. "Why must Canterlot reject everypony that wasn't born on its lofty over-priced aristocratic summit? And it's not as though I wish to acclimate to this social climate! I simply wish to have our talents presented to the whole of Equestria! And for as long as I have lived, ingratiating myself to the maestros of Canterlot is the only means of accomplishing this noble goal!"

After offering a hopeful smile, Vinyl then tossed forth a few key gestures.

"I'm sorry Vinyl. I know it might work for you, but I simply cannot allow myself to experiment at the Manehattan underground scene," Octavia said in a breathy tone. "Nevertheless, you've been so... so very supportive in assisting me as of late. Please don't feel as though you must dwell upon the same sinking ship as myself. I would not be insulted if you were to pursue more solitary musical endeavors without having to wait for me."

The unicorn beside her rolled her shaded eyes. She gave Octavia a playful swat with her tail, then sliced the air with a solid gesture.

"I mean it. There simply is no use in waiting any longer." With a sad sigh, Octavia gazed towards the sun toasted clouds floating overhead. "I do not know what I was thinking, Vinyl. Opportunities? Here in Canterlot?" Her eyes glistened slightly, and she did her dignified best to push all semblance of sorrow into the far corners of her voice. "It's not as though good fortune will just decide to spontaneously fall across our flanks from the sky."

Just as she said that—

Plop!

—a pair of headphones descended from the sky, landing neatly across Vinyl's neck.

"....???" The unicorn looked straight up. Her shades reflected two pegasus figures levitating above the street.

"Told you I'd give them back!" Flash Sentry musically burped. "They made for major mid-air endorphin farming! I can't thank you enough!" He grinned, coiled his wings, then dropped like a goofy anvil. Th-Thap! He landed nimbly before the two mares and saluted. "'Sup ladies? Besides me, of course. Hehehehe—"

Octavia tilted back, raising a dainty hoof. "Flas—!" She winced, correcting herself mid-utterance. "Brad. Good sir..." She leaned forward with a curious expression. "...what brings you to Canterlot?"

Vinyl Scratch gestured something before taking a moment to examine the headphones that had been returned to her.

"Ahem..." Octavia looked from Vinyl to Flash again. "Finished with your aerial adventures, I take it?"

"Wow, so this is the pony Canterlot, huh?" Flash Sentry paced about in the cobblestone street, his dazzled eyes reflecting colorful storefronts, lights, and rooftops. "Feels like I'm back in time... waiting to climb Heroics on my way to raiding Icecrown!"

"Uhhhhhhhhhh—"

"Do you know the nearest place to buy thorium bars?" Flash winked. "I have an engineering alt."

With a sigh, Octavia rolled her eyes. "Back to your usual non sequiturs, I see..."

"Sure. Whatever. Say..." Flash Sentry leaned towards the two. "I don't suppose you two mares are still needing to land a super snazzy musical venue, huh?"

"Well..." Octavia fidgeted.

Vinyl nodded and nodded and nodded and nodded and nodded and—

"Right." Octavia gulped. "I suppose there's no denying it."

Flash cocked his head to the side. "Canterlot's a dry well, huh?"

"More like a sterile moutaintop. Nopony here appears in the mood to recognize our talents. We were better off back in Ponyville—I shudder to say."

Flash cocked his head to the other side. "So you're still at it, I'm guessing?"

"Most indubitably, although I doubt providence will shift its winds anytime soon."

Swooosh! Soarin dropped, landing right beside Flash. "Wowsers. I just love her voice." He smirked at Flash. "Lemme guess. This is Girl Number Three."

Flash gritted his teeth and stared daggers at the older stallion. "Don't. You. Even."

"I beg your pardon..." Octavia's eyes narrowed on Soarin. "Have we met before?"

In the meantime, Vinyl was scratching. With a wide grin, she did a little excited jig in place, spun three times, then charaded a gliding eagle.

"He's..." Octavia's muzzle hung open. "... ... ...searching for mice?"

"Nah. I wouldn't harm a fly." Soarin shrugged. "But your stylish friend here no doubt recognizes me from the Wonderbolts."

"The Wonderbolts?"

Soarin bowed. "Soarin at your service. Pleasure to meet you, Miss—"

"Octavia Melody!" Flash pointed. "And Vinyl Scratch! The one and only! Well... the two and onlies!" He giggled slightly. "S-sorry. I've been practicing."

"And brushing withers with celebrities, I see," Octavia said. She sensed Vinyl practically vibrating in her peripheral. Showing much practice, Octavia wetted her tongue on her fetlock and used it to extinguish the glowing point on Viny's horn. "So..." Her eyes remained locked on Flash Sentry. "...what brings you here? I must say—for an outsider—you exercised exceptional navigational skills in order to locate us in these lofty streets."

"How would you like to seize the musical opportunity of a lifetime?" Flash offered.

"My dear Brad, you do know why Vinyl and I are here, yes?"

"Screw Canterlot," Flash said, eliciting a gasp or two from nearby passerby's. "This is bigger than that!"

"With all due respect..." Octavia smiled tiredly. "...you are not from around here, Brad. How could you possibly offer us something bigger than the venues in Equestria's most important city?"

"How about their most important ally?"

"Hmmm?"

"The Crystal Empire is needing some help right now," Soarin interjected. "And Brad here isn't offering something bigger. It's the stewards—Princess Cadance and Shining Armor—and the Wonderbolts are the ones directing it all."

"And you mares are perfect for the job!" Flash exclaimed.

"Says who?"

"Says me!" Flash briefly frowned. "Jiminy Cricket, girl! If this has been your attitude all along, no wonder you got any work!"

"I do not mean to sound ungrateful, Brad," Octavia said. "Desperate or not, I fail to see how a venue in a faraway place like the Crystal Empire could possibly be on the same level with what we're looking for here in Canterlot."

"I'm not talking about playing the cello at a crystal nightclub or just entertaining the stewards for a night," Flash said.

"Then what are you talking about, dear?"

Soarin's eyes darted across the sidewalk, meeting Vinyl's.

Vinyl gave a knowing breath... then strategically reposistioned herself lengthwise behind Octavia.

"I'm talking..." Flash leaned forward with a smug grin. "...about composing and conducting for the entire Crystal Imperialist Symphony..." Her eyes narrowed. "For the upcoming festivities to celebrate the official joining of the Crystal Empire with the Equestria Union."

Octavia blinked.

Flash grinned. He waited... he waited some more...

"Oh my... stars..." And Octavia teetered back...

...fainting across Vinyl's flank, draped their in delicious unconsciousness.

"Nifty." Soarin looked at the other stallion. "She took it well."

"Eeyup!" Flash rubbed his hooves together, looking across the street. "Now where can somepony go for a bite to eat around this place?"

Blurp

Several minutes later, Octavia recovered. She, Vinyl Scratch, Soarin, and Flash Sentry sat on the outdoor patio of a restaurant in one of Canterlot's livelier districts. Soarin and Flash munched away on breaded treats that Vinyl had gladly bought them. Octavia cradled a mug of tea in her hooves. The mare sat on a velvet cushion—of course she did.

"Mint tea..." Octavia drank, sighed, drank and sighed. Soon her nerves had calmed. "...always does the trick."

"Mrmmfff... good..." Flash swallowed another morsel, stifled a burp, and smirked across the table. "So—do you gals have an answer for us or—"

"YES!" Octavia bellowed—surprising the two stallions. She coughed daintily, dabbed her chin with a napkin, and looked calmly across the table. "But of course the answer is 'yes.' We wouldn't possibly think of rejecting such an offer."

Vinyl nodded, her smile unending.

"But... forgive me if I feel a tad bit... flummoxed." She brushed her smokey bangs straight and squinted at Flash. "How was it that you were able to offer us such... such an unbelievably prestigious role?"

Flash gestured. "It's all because of Vinyl's headphones?"

Vinyl did a double-take.

"I beg your pardon, Brad?"

"Well, Vinyl lent me her headphones!" Flash said. "And it had a bunch of killer techno music on it with samples I've never heard before! So it got my body and soul really bumpin'—but mostly just my body, although my soul followed shortly behind. Anyways, I got to dancing in the sky—sky dancing? More like fly-dancing. And it was really really fun but also really really exhausting. So I plopped myself down on a mountainside somewhere and fell asleep. The next thing I know, I was waking up to screams. This little body was falling straight down from the stars! So I flew up to pick the body up. Turns out it was the young nephew to Prince Blueblood, and the kid had fallen off the side of a massive airship named the Midnight Oil. The Midnight Oil was conducting a very important trade mission with the diamond dogs of High Paw. I met this really cool pony named Fancy Pants. Also Filthy Rich was there. They thought it was pretty cool how I saved a member of royalty from turning into horse paste against the mountainside, so they let me tag along and see how the mission went. That's how I met the Wonderbolts—including this cool bro Soarin here. Together, we stopped an assassination attempt by these punks called the Hawkeye Pack who—ironically—were the last remaining group of diamond dogs holding out on the deal that was being placed on the negotiating table. We talked some sense into them, and—voila!—they saw the light and agreed to work with the representatives on board the Midnight Oil. This got us the crystalline jewels that the Crystal Empire sorely needed, and because of that they're finally able to join the Equestrian Union! But their normal representatives are off doing business with Yakyakistan, so I got Spitfire to speak to the stewards of the Empire who gave the Wonderbolts permission to oversee the festivities happening in the next few days. We already got Bon Bon and the Cakes from Ponyville to oversee catering. Now what we need is somepony to take care of the music at the event... and then somepony else to take care of decorating!" He finished with a grin.

Soarin added to it. "And I helped!"

Octavia and Vinyl Scratch blinked at the stallions. They exchanged glances.

"It's all kind of silly when you think about it," Flash muttered. "But hey... I like silly. And free breadsticks. I like those too." He bent down to take another tender bite of the treats on his plate. "Mmmmmm... horse buds... activate...!"

"This..." Octavia cleared her throat. "...is a most esteemed honor. And I am exceedingly thankful that you have chosen the two of us to tackle it." She somehow curtsied while sitting down. "Thank you most wonderfully."

"Heheh... you're welcome most wonderfully!" Soarin smirked. "You think you're up for the task?"

"Do you even know who you're talking to, love?"

Soarin's smile paled as he sweated slightly. "I... think I'm about to."

"I, Octavia Melody, am the finest cellist in all the land," the dainty mare said. She placed her hoof on Vinyl's shoulder. "And this charming soul—Vinyl Scratch, also known as DJ-P0N3—is the most exceptional pioneer of contemporary auditory aesthetics."

Vinyl stuck her tongue out and smiled.

"Not only will we fulfill our roles for the Crystal Empire most sublimely, but we will assure that the kingdom becomes a benchmark for musical expression for generations to come."

Soarin whistled. "Now that's one heck of a pitch!"

"Nevertheless, it will be an excrutiating challenge, and I daresay we may need some assistance with staying the course—especially upon such short notice."

"I'm sure Spitfire can conjure up some helping hooves with the stewards' help."

"No doubt. But I was hoping for something far closer to home." Octavia looked at Flash. "I understand—Brad—that you hired Bon Bon for the catering service?"

Flash nodded. "Along with Mrs. and Mr. Cake, yes."

"I trust her beloved companion—Ms. Heartstrings—will be accompanying her, yes?"

"Who. Lyra? Oh, totally."

Octavia looked at Soarin. "I would greatly like to request Lyra's assistance with our musical endeavors, if that would not sour the sanctivity of this invitation."

"Hey..." Soarin shrugged. "You girls know what you're doing. I'm certain Spitfire will be on board."

"Smashing." Octavia's eyes sparkled. "Then this is looking most fortuitous indeed."

"Hell yeah!" Flash sat up straight. "Then all that's left to do is find somepony to manage decorations for the event!"

"That... will be terribly difficult, I'm afraid," Octavia said. "Assuming—of course—that you are looking for the best pony for the job."

"Why's that?"

Octavia took another sip of her tea and dabbed her chin. "Simply that... the best equines for the job are Pinkie Pie and Rarity... but both of them have been unavailable ever since the Princess of Friendship and her close allies were summoned for an important mission to the furthest reaches of Equestria."

"Ah..." Flash winced slightly and tried to hide it. "...you don't say."

"Although... you are bound to find ponies here in Canterlot who would be willing to lend a hoof to such a venture. Be mindful—they won't be nearly half as humble in accepting your invitation as Vinyl and myself. Those who live here could learn a thing or two about generosity."

"Yeah, well..." Soarin scatched his head, looking at Flash. "...maybe we can swing back by Ponyville and look there? It's worked well for us so far."

Suddenly, Vinyl Scratch brightened.

Octavia glanced aside. "What is it, love?"

Vinyl Scratch gestured and gestured and gestured briefly.

"What's she saying?" Flash asked. "I can't read 'Deejay.'"

Octavia's muzzle scrunched. "Surely you jest, Vinyl!"

Vinyl gestured more emphatically.

"Normally, I wouldn't object—but this is the most important political event to happen in the Equestrian Union in decades! We can't afford her innate clumsiness!"

"Huh? Who are we talking about?"

Vinyl only grinned.

With a defeated sigh, Octavia looked at Flash. "Forgive Vinyl's enthusiasm, Brad. It's not entirely missplaced... it's just that—"

"Is there another pony in Ponyville who's good at decorating?" Soarin asked.

"Well, to an extent. There's a pony who's a jack of all trades in town. But such spread talents comes with a bit of... how should I put it... a scatterbrain. Sounds cruel to say out loud, I know. And, yes, she truly is a well-meaning soul with a heart of gold... but she causes almost as much calamity as she does good. Which is a shame... because in addition to decorating, she has two chief talents: flight teaching and muffin baking—"

"Snkkkkt!" Flash Sentry spread his wings. "Oh, we are so there."

"Huh?" Soarin squinted up at him. "So where?"

"No questions. Only flight." Flash ascended, gesturing at the mares. "Take the first train to the Crystal Empire! We'll meet you there!"

"You'd better not bring a pestilence of calamity with you!" Octavia called back.

"Ain't gonna happen! I'll make sure of it!" Flash soared southwest with a thoroughly confused Soarin in hot pursuit. "Hahahaha..." Flash's grinned towards the half-burning horizon. "Holy shit, life is good!"

Sploosh

"Just spray these into the corners of your house! Like a cat!" Derpy Hooves grinned, eyes rotating as she guided the elderly patron towards the exit of her shop. "A male cat! Made out of potpourri and giggles!" She tittered girlishly.

"Mrmmmfff..." A surly quadrupedal specimen with a fiery-orange toupe scrunched his already wrinkled muzzle. "You sure that this 'extract of hydra and lavender' paste will make the house smell better?" His nostrils flared. "Matilda's been complaining about the old musk of the cabin ever since she moved in. Grffff... I think the previous tenants were skunks. Or maybe they were just born in raised in Fillydelphia..."

"I promise this will drive the funky-gunky away!" Derpy patted his flank, grinning towards the walls. "Soon you and your beloved will be stinky-free, Cranky Doodle Diaper!"

"It's Donkey," he huffed.

"Oooh! I love maiden names! So dainty!" She giggled again. "Thanks for shopping with us, Mister!"

"Pffft! There's only one of you here, Miss Hooves."

"Says you!" She stuck her tongue out playfully. "Takes an army to keep the world from spinning! I swear!"

"Heh... you're one in a million, lady." Cranky marched out the door with his bag of purchase. "Never change."

"Spoken like a true Diaper!" She waved, teeth glinting. "Byeeeeeeeeeee!"

Before the door had a chance to swing completely shut, a yellow-orange hoof propped it open. Flash Sentry stood in the entrance, panting for breath in the dim light of a setting sun.

"H-hey there, Miss Hooves!" He swiped the sweat from his brow and relaxed his sore wings. "Whew! I'm sure glad we got here before closing time!"

"Wait!" Derpy squatted low, tail flicking like a domestic cat spotting a laser pointer. "Waaaaaaaaaaaaaait. I know that voice..."

"I would hope so."

She held one hoof over her left eye while her right eye circled the entrance. "Wait for it." She licked her lips. The eye spun closer and closer. "Wait for itttttt—" At last, her wandering eye landed on Flash's face. "Ah! Mr. Bard! What a pleasant surprise! This evening just got bouncier!"

"Heeeeeey..." Flash grinned. "You remember me?"

"Of course I do!" She motioned him inside the crowded shop chock full of second-hoof wares. "You're still alive?"

"Eeyup!"

"Then the flying lessons didn't kill you! Yipeeee!" She tried to wink; her left eye merely danced above a smug grin. "Guess you won't be needing a refund, huh?"

"Hahahahaha—!"

"Heeheehee!"

"Hahaha... ahem..." Flash Sentry closed the door behind him. "Look, I know it's late, but I came here to make a proposition—"

"A proposition?" Derpy blushed slightly. "Oh, I dunno, Mr. Bard. I must confess that I gave up my seat with the clergy years ago."

His muzzle scrunched. "Huh?"

Her muzzle scrunched. "What?"

Thwappp! The closing door slammed against an approaching stallion's nose. "Augh!" Soarin's voice grunted outside. "Son of a minotaur!"

"Whoops!" Flash spun around and swung the door back open with his wingtips. "S-sorry, bro! I thought you were further behind me!"

"Grnnngh..." Soarin stumbled in, rubbing his aching, fuzzy nose. "You only fly faster than me c-cuz I let you."

"Bro..."

"Ooooh!" Derpy Hooves smiled pleasantly. "Suddenly it's a party!" She curtsied before the stallion. "Hello and good morning! Derpy Hooves, at your service!"

"Don't you mean 'good...'" Soarin lowered his hoof, staring ahead. His muzzle locked into place in mid-utterance, and his handsome eyes went wide. Ears folded back and a tail flicked until it was dead straight like a bloodhound's behind his frozen haunches. "'...evening?'" He exhaled the entire breadth of his being beyond an astonished expression.

Derpy stifled a girlish laugh. Lanternlight caught the subtle shine of her gray coat, and her mane twinkled like gold as she tossed it lithely over her supple neck. "No relationship to the great pop singer Groovin' Hooves," she ritualistically continued. She sang... her voice like bells dipped in honey. "Heeheehee..." Seraphim giggles. Eyes that rolled to a stand-still, balancing the delicate world upon the precipice of her next goddess-like breath. "...I hate it when random ponies trot on pins and needles around me."

"... ... ..." Soarin gazed at her... through her. Shadows formed in the lanternlight, most likely caused by the majestic wings of an albatross stretching majestically outward from both sides of the stallion. "Pins... and needles..."

"Mmmhmm! That's right!" Again, more heavenly giggles. "Heeheehee!"

Flash Sentry blinked. He stared at Soarin. He looked at Derpy. He returned to staring at Soarin. "Soooooo... uhm..." A crooked, knowing smile—and he faced Derpy again. "This here is my good friend! Lead wingpony of the Wonderbolts, second in command to Spitfire!"

"Oooooh!" Derpy grinned sideways. "Sounds important! And shiny!"

"Why don't you introduce yourself, dude?"

"Hiiiiiiiii..." Soarin extended a shaky hoof out. "I'm blonde." He winced. "I-I mean...!" He cracked a grin. "You're very blonde! I MEAN—" He grimaced, starting to shake all over. "I... uhm... uhhh... h-holyyyy cow..."

Flash slyly grinned at Derpy Hooves. "His name's Soarin."

"OoooOoooh!" Derpy Hooves smiled. "Like the old philosopher!"

"Philosopher?"

"Yeah!" Derpy tried to wink again. "Ever read Filly and Trembling? It's a classic!"

"Wow! You're into classics!" Flash swung his grin towards Soarin. "You hear that, dude? She's into classics!"

"That's... so awesome..." Soarin smiled dumbly. "I-I'm afraid I've never been much for reading bubbles—" He winced, his eyes immediately darting away from her flank. "I-I mean books! I was just... what I meant was—"

"Heehee!" Derpy covered her muzzle with a dainty hoof. "Your friend's pretty cute for a Watergate wingpony!"

"Mmmmmmmmm..." Soarin teetered drunkenly. "Nopony's paid me a better compliment."

"If you say so!"

"Is this shop yours?"

"Yup yup yup!" Derpy nodded. "At least when it's not on fire! Then it belongs to the insurance company!"

"It's... so... beautifulllllll—" Soarin leaned forward.

"Aaaaaanyways..." Flash pushed him back on his haunches and stepped towards Derpy. "My... tipsy friend and I here are in a bit of a dilemma."

"Oh noes!" Derpy winced. "Not dilemmas! My aunt's kidneys went through a dilemma once and it was not fun!"

"Right, and neither is the situation we're in. However..." Flash smirked. "With some help from our best buds—we just might be able to flip the scenario over on its head! It's for the good of Equestria... and it involves some key talent in key areas and—"

"Is this the 'proposition' that you were talking about, Mr. Bard?"

"Uhhhhhhh... yeah?"

"Well, I'm sorry to say that I'm a very busy mare."

"Awwwwwwwww..." Flash's ears drooped. "Just how busy?"

"Oh, you know how it is." While speaking, she trotted behind her counter and cleaned up her workspace, putting tools and trinkets away. "Trying to run a pawn shop and a flight school and a muffin baking enterprise on the side..."

"Wowwwww..." Soarin was ever so close to drooling. "You sound soooooooooo talented—" A blue tail whapped him in the face. "Guh!"

Flash flicked his hairs back and glanced Derpy's way. "I take it you're totally booked then."

"I'm afraid so."

"Well... that's too bad..."

"Unless, of course..." Derpy smiled as she dusted her back counter. "...somepony was to spontaneously request my college major services as a party decorator in order to salvage a super important celebration at a neighboring kingdom that's being incorporated into the Equestrian Union immediately following some nebulously orchestrated trade negotiations!" She shrugged, stifling a yawn. "I mean, if that happened, I'd drop everything I was doing! But... heh... life's just too predictably dull, isn't it? Such a shame..."

Flash Sentry blinked. Hard.

Soarin leaned in, practically vibrating. "Dude... two questions. One—how far did she fall from heaven? Two—am I dreaming?"

"Shhhhhh!" Flash hissed back. "Don't ruin it!"

Soarin cooed. "How can anything possibly ruin—?"

"Gawd... sit on cupid's arrow and rotate, ya melon fudge," Flash shoved him aside, nevertheless smirking. "Though—in your case—it'd probably make you sober. Hah..."

Derpy looked over her shoulder. "Huh? What were we talking about again?"

"Ahem..." Flash leaned forward with a smile. "Miss Hooves, do you believe in coincidences?"

"Sure thing, Mr. Bard!" She smirked. "I just don't trust them."

"Spoken like a true Cardassian." Flash gestured. "How'd you like to go on a business trip?"

"Wuh oh. Business trip?" She fidgeted, pouting slightly. "Maybe now's an awkward time for a confession."

"Spill it."

"I'm... kind of a clumsy pony." She shrugged, then tossed her feather duster wildly over her head. It landed neatly atop a lantern and—Fwooomf!—instantly caught fire. Breeeee-eeeee-eeeee! The fire alarm went off, and the shop's sprinkler system began saturating the store with mildew-smelling tap water. "... ... ....I don't know if you've ever noticed."

"Pfffft..." Flash spat through the cold shower rivuleting over his face. "Well, how would you feel about a trip to the Crystal Empire? To oversee decorations for a big Gala Event?"

"OoooOoooOoooh... I think I've heard of that place!" Derpy slicked her sopping wet mane back and sputtered in the indoor rain. "What's it like?"

"Well, it's a big shiny kingdom..." Flash's teeth showed beneath a slightly grimacing muzzle. "...with fragile... crystal buildings..." He squirmed slightly in the puddles forming on the tile floor beneath him. "... ... ...and just as fragile equines made of living glass."

"Oh, wow!" Derpy tossed her hooves, inadvertently knocking a basket full of lightbulbs off the counter and shattering them across the floor. "Sounds like fun! I'm in!"

"Cool...!" Flash grinned... twitching slightly. "...I think."

"Let me just go grab my stuff—" Derpy turned around and began trotting. "Ow ow ow ow ow!" She winced, fighting tears as she limped her way towards the backroom. "Heehee... silly glass! Wow... I think my stockroom spun a leak!"

There was a series of splashing sounds from the room beyond as Derpy adorably rummaged around.

Flash slicked his wet mane back and shuddered. "Everything's worked so far, Flash... this can too... right?" A gulp, and he glanced at the sprinklers overhead. "Karma. It's... all about karma..."

"Flash... I-I think I have a confession of my own to make..." Soarin stammered. He shook his wet wingfeathers, forming rainbows in the lanternlight that matched his sparkling eyes. "I... think I'm in love."

Flash slapped him upside the skull. Whap! "Is Jim Carrey Canadian?!?!"

Prize

"Mrmmmfff...!" Spitfire lowered the mug of ale from her muzzle and wiped it clean. "You found cooks, musicians, and decorators?! Already?!" She blinked across the Crystal Empire tavern. "That must be some kind of world record!"

"It's not all that crazy, really," Flash Sentry said. His wings and limbs ached from flying all across Equestria, but the thrill of the evening left an undeniable buzz vibrating through his youthful extremities. "I already knew where to look. As soon as you got the okay from the stewards, I knew exactly where to go and who to talk to!"

"Sooooo..." Spitfire smirked. "You had this all planned from the start, did you?"

"Yes and no. But mostly no." Flash's eyes twitched. "And yet... at the same time... mostly yes."

"How in Tartarus are you even going to pull this off?"

"Just grip the bottlecap really tight and twist!" Flash exclaimed. His tail flicked. "Wait... are you talking about the analogy of opening a bottle or actually getting the festivities at the Crystal Empire to blow off without a hitch?"

"All this time, I figured that you were either crazy or stupid, kid. But now that I think about it..." Spitfire took another sip and smiled. "You've got a lot of guts. Not to mention some snazzy ambition." Her eyes looked past him. "A pony could learn a thing or two from this punk." Her smile faded as she raised a curious eyebrow.

"Heeeeeeee..." Soarin leaned against a fetlock that was propped against the bar counter. His smile was the masterpiece of stupidity. "It's like she sings when she talks..."

"What the heck is his problem?" Spitfire asked.

"We flew too fast across Equestria," Flash droned. "Somewhere along the way, he got bit by a love bug."

"Hah! Soarin?! Love?!" Spitfire downed the rest of her mug and belched. "Urp! That silken saddle sissy couldn't romance a donkey in heat!"

"Wow... that sounded really cartoonishly offensive." Flash beamed. "Do you know any more?"

"And you, kiddo..." Spitfire cocked her head to the side. "When was the last time you got some sleep?"

"Pffft. You trying to sabotage our main mission here?"

"Look. I'm not the bad guy here," Spitfire said. "I put my neck out on the line for you and Romeoats. I don't want you two failing super hard and making me look back before the stewards of the Crystal Empire." She shoved her fetlock into Flash's chest. "You'd better get some rest so you can help your Ponyville buddies get this show on the road. Don't make me kick your butt."

"But... I can't sleep yet." Flash gulped. "The trains with our friends will be arriving before sunrise. We gotta point them in the right direction so that they'll be working with their respective departments here in the Crystal Empire." He shook his head. "There's no time to waste! The Unification Celebration will be in nearly two days!"

"I'm pretty sure you knew what you were getting into when you took this thing on."

"I've never known what I'm getting into," Flash Sentry said. He smiled. "And I hope to God I never will."

"... ... ..." Spitfire rubbed her chin. After a breath, she leaned back with a tired smile. "You're in search for something, kid."

"Am I?"

"Yeah." She nodded. "I think you are. And even a pessimist like me hopes you have the good friggin' luck of finding it."

Flash winked. "I can with help."

"You've got help," she said, pointing at Soarin. "Only..." She scooted out of her barstool and dropped a bit on the counter. "...better clear the butterflies out of your help's stomach or it'll turn into a ball-and-chain pretty soon." With a flick of her tail, she left the establishment.

Flash took a deep breath.

"I wonder if she likes tulips?" Soarin murmured, smiling just as dumbly as before. "It really does match her eyes."

Flash swiveled to face him. "Come on, dude. Listen to what Spitfire said. Don't go all hopeless on me!"

Soarin blinked at him. "Spitfire was here?"

Flash shook his shoulders. "Stick! With! The! Program!"

"Gaaaaah—what is this, a turbulence test?!" Soarin only had to flap his wings once and he effectively knocked Flash back. "Dude, lay off!"

"Hah!" Flash beamed. "There's my bro!"

"Look. We fetched the help that we needed, didn't we?" Soarin brushed his wings off and slicked his mane back. "And they're all headed here via train to make the party happen. Haven't we saved the day?"

"We won't live to see that day get saved if we don't keep our head in the game!" Flash's voice cracked. "And—hate to say it, buddy—but yours just took a permanent vacation to the Valentine's Day section of the Hallmark Store!"

Soarin's eyes narrowed. "Valentine's... Day...?"

"Yeah. Y'know... a holiday for sharing heart-shaped candies and sappy love letters with significant others."

"Oh. Must be a human thing. Here in Equestria, we have Hearts and Hooves Day." Soarin blinked, and then he gasped with joy. "Oooh! Do you think she'd like a basket full of candies?"

"Actually Derpy Hooves likes muffins."

"Even better—!"

"Dammit, bro!"

"Sorry!" Soarin grimaced, slapping himself a few times. "I'm sorry, Flash! I'm sorry just..." His wings drooped as he sighed. "I've... never seen a mare that adorable and enchantingly beautiful before. Has she always lived in Ponyville?"

"How the Hell should I know?"

Soarin winced. After a calming breath, he stood up tall. "Here you are trying to do Equestria and the Crystal Empire a huge favor... and suddenly I'm slacking in the awesome department." He shook his head. "Forgive me, bro. I... I just don't know what came over me. You've got my full support. I promise."

"You sure you're cool?" Flash arched an eyebrow. "We're gonna be working closely with these Ponyvilleans over the next few days, setting things up. That means you're going to be running into her. A lot."

"Heeeeeeee... you really think so."

Flash face-hoofed. "Bro."

"Sorry! SORRY! I'm cool." Soarin took a deep breath and waved his forelimbs to assist his lungs. "I'm cool. I'm cool. I'm cool. I'm cool."

"Just don't... don't..." Flash's ears drooped as he looked aside. "...don't set yourself for a huge friggin' fall, man."

"Huh?"

"What I mean is... I think you're really awesome, Soarin." Flash rubbed one forelimb with another, avoiding the older stallion's gaze. "You're the most chill dude I've met since I showed up here. What I wouldn't give to have someone like you on the other side, y'know? And it would really suck... it would really burn me to see you get burned..." Flash swallowed a lump down his throat. "I know what it's like to have all of my feelings misplaced. Perhaps you're older and smarter than me—but I don't want the same thing to happen to you. Cuz it sucks, man. It sucks way more than I could ever explain—"

"Aren't we freaking out a bit too much?"

"I just—"

"Flash... relax..." Soarin rested a hoof on Flash's shoulder, smiling. "I'm a different stallion... and this is a different place. And do you honestly... truly think Miss Hooves is anything like your Girl Number One? Or Two?"

Flash sighed. His smile was a weak one. "You're right. I'm just projecting. I've been..." He winced, gazing aside. "...I-I've been doing that ever since I got here."

"And for your sake, I hope it's helped. A lot. Your whole trip through Equestria must mean a lot to you. But you must understand that not all things happen the same to everyone."

Flash's nostrils flared. "The portal's called a 'mirror' for a reason—"

"You gotta stop being so paranoid. Besides... even if I did set myself up to be burned..." Soarin winked. "I've been through my fair share of crashes before. That's why the skull's so thick. I'll survive."

"It's... not enough that we just 'survive,'" Flash muttered in a sad tone.

"Bro. Do I have to hug you through this or something?" Soarin spread his wings. "Come on! We've got a party to set in motion! Now let's keep our eyes on the prize and head on over to the train station, huh?" He led the younger stallion towards the door. "They'll be here soon, won't they?"

Flash squinted suspiciously at him. "Just which 'prize' will you be eyeing?"

"Shhhhh. I won't say anything if you won't."

Flash rolled his eyes. "You're hopeless."

"Takes one to know one, dude."

"Heheheh..."

Acoustics

"Whoaaaaaaaaah..." Derpy Hooves' muzzle hung wide open. Her voice echoed against the massive walls of a massive room inside a massive palace. Illuminated on the far ends by purple manatorches, an enormous chamber of immaculately glinting stone surfaces stretched all around the miniscule group that had gathered there. The otherworldly lighting system gave the place a purple, constellatory shine—and even the very air felt enchanting to breathe. "You mean I get to work in a place like this?!"

"We get to work in a place like this," Flash Sentry said with a smile, his voice also echoing. "And gawk all you want. Best to get it out of your system. Believe me—I was all a'drooling the first moment I saw it."

"When did you first see it?" Bon Bon asked.

"About... mmmm... ten minutes ago." Flash spun, his blue eyes glinting. "Jesus Christ on a bike, will you just look at this plaaaace?"

"Heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!" Derpy's eyes rolled and rolled and rolled and...

"It's like someone made a ballroom out of those trial temples in Final Fantasy Ten!" Flash sighed happily. "Only it doesn't suck."

Soarin strolled calmly past Flash—taking the opportunity to close his gaping muzzle shut with an expert hoof. "Easy there, pal. They already wax this place enough without you having to drool on it."

"Ssssssppp..." Flash rubbed his chin. "...sorry, dude."

"Don't mention it." Soarin turned to face the gathered Ponyvilleans directly. They had trotted straight there from the train station, and the stewards' servants had provided the keys to this most auspicious chamber. "This is where the majority of the festivities will be taking place." He gestured at the ceiling. "Directly above us is the Crystal Heart—the central nerve of the Crystal Empire. This chamber that we are in right now? It was originally carved out of pure rock by the first Imperial Dynasty... and designed to be a place of warmth and refuge before the crystal ponies discovered how to control the local weather with their magic. In togetherness and union and love, the crystal ponies have long learned how to survive and celebrate in spite of the greatest hardship." He took a deep breath. "A little over a thousand years ago, King Sombra took over and used this very chamber as an extension of his slave pens. He's long since been defeated, and the Crystal Heart above us has been restored. As you can very well imagine, it means an awful lot to the Imperialists here that they use this place for joy and recreation, to symbolize the triumph they now enjoy. This Unification Celebration will be only the second time they've utilized this room since the Empire resurfaced. The first was celebrating the foaling of their daughter, Princess Flurry Heart. Now, more than ever, the whole of us stand to give the crystal ponies something they can enjoy with equal enthusiasm—if not even greater."

"Yeah." Flash smiled dumbly. He nodded at the Wonderbolt. "What he said."

Soarin breathed. "The fact that the party will be situated so closely to the Crystal Heart will be our greatest asset." He smirked. "The locals' proximity to their sacred relic will assure that they're enraptured in one accord. That'll leave us the foreign dignitaries to be concerned with."

"Yeah." Flash nodded. "Don't worry your fuzzy ears off about the crystal ponies. With that Heart of theirs a-spinning, they could enjoy just about damn-near anything." He smirked. "Even bingo."

"Could you... please...?" Soarin sighed.

"What?" Flash shrugged. "I'm the charisma!"

"You'd look stupid with a pair of pom-poms."

"Glad for your reassurance, bro."

"Ooh! Pom-poms!" Derpy grinned, clasping her hooves together. "This place would just sparkle with reflective streamers! Especially done in complimentary colors to mix with the mana-torches!" She hummed melodically. "Oh, I could just see all the friendly ponies from far and wide being bedazzled! Can't you?"

"Duaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah," Soarin uttered, eyes already glistening.

"Ahem..." Flash gently brushed him aside and took front and center before the group. "So... already I can see our decorator is inspired!" He craned his neck. "What about our musicians?"

"This..." Octavia trotted leisurely through the large open hall, her hooves echoing with faint, dainty clops. "...I can most definitely work with this." She looked over her shoulder at Vinyl. "How about you, love?"

Vinyl Scratch nod nod nod nod nodded. The reflections of her purple shades magnified the mystical interior as she whistled through pursed lips.

"I can already tell the acoustics are to die for," Octavia murmured. "I must admit, Brad. I was somewhat... concerned when you first invited myself and Vinyl here. But now that I'm in this most majestic place—I daresay my fears have been dissipated."

"Yeah..." Lyra purred, standing next to Bon Bon. "You could sit on an accordian and still manage to lull a hydra to sleep in a place such as this!"

"Well, I suppose we will have to put that enthusiasm of yours to the test, Ms. Heartstrings."

Lyra blinked, holding a hoof over her chest. "Me?"

Octavia looked over with calmly lidded eyes. "But of course, dear. Vinyl and I surely can't set up the stage all on our lonesome. We're going to need your own musical expertise if we're to seal the deal—as t'were. Especially in two days."

Vinyl smiled.

"But..." Lyra fidgeted. "I-I-I'm just here for moral support! Y'know..." She smiled sheepishly, squatting beside her best-bestie. "A regular Bon-Bon bonus! Eheheheh..."

"Don't sell yourself short, Lyra." Bon Bon smirked, fluffing her friend's bangs. "Who knows? This could be your big break just as much Vinyl's and Octavia's."

"Mmmmmmmmmmm..." Lyra's green cheeks turned red. "You really think so?"

Bon Bon nuzzled her close. "Know so."

"Heh..." Flash smiled, turning towards Soarin. "Isn't that sweeter than Mountain Dew?"

"Duaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah," Soarin uttered, still gazing at Derpy.

"Mrmmfff..." Flash face-hoofed.

"I'm glad that we're so committed on the musical and aesthetic front," Cup Cake remarked, waddling forward. Her bright eyes traced the distant edges of the splendid room. "But it's one thing to fill this room with decorations and sound. But to fill the bellies of those who will be dining here?!?"

Carrot Cake trembled. "This place could easily fit five thousand p-ponies!" He grimaced, sweat forming across his golden coat. "Maybe even m-more!"

"How are we even going to feed them all? Much less treat them?!" Cup Cake gulped. "What do Crystal Ponies even like to eat? We don't even know!"

"Funny you should ask that," Flash said. He turned towards his buddy. "Soarin...?"

"Hmmmmmmm..." Soarin stood on drooping legs, his cheeks warm with a prolonged smile—

"Hey!" Flash slapped him in the face with his tail. "Wake up, Casaneighva!"

"Huh? What?" Soarin blinked, snapping out of it.

"That was your cue!" Flash's eyes narrowed. "Don't make me use an even worse pun."

Derpy giggled.

Wincing, Soarin wrenched himself from the sight and sound of the blonde. "Ahem..." He then rhythmically slapped his front hooves three times against the floor of the room before pronouncing in a loud, authoritative voice: "You may now enter!"

With a massive creak, large doors in the northwest corner of the room opened wide. The acoustical chamber echoed with many-many hoofsteps.

The Ponyvilleans craned their necks, then gasped in surprise.

Several lines of crystal ponies marched to a stop. Servants. Cooks. Farmers. Musicians. Artists. Caretakers. And volunteers a-plenty. A mare at the front of the group stepped forward, curtsied, and said: "Greetings, friends, Equestrians. On behalf of the Crystal Empire—and with the power invested in us by the stewards in the good spirit of unification—we offer our services to you."

A stallion behind her stepped up, adding in a confident tone: "We know that time is of the essence. But fear not. While you serve as our inspiration, we shall be your hooves and magic."

"Together we will make this wonderful celebration a reality."

Once more, both bowed as one, and the rest of the servants clapped their hooves against the floor with cheers and whistles and laughter.

Dumbfounded, the Ponyvilleans glanced at Flash.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" Flash smirked. "Point and click!"

Sample

"But Brad! You've got to sample some of these Northern Spice Dusted rolls!" Bon Bon insisted. She wore a thoroughly-splotched apron in the middle of large, bustling, royal kitchen in the heart of the Crystal Palace. Dozens of crystal ponies were swiftly mass-producing breaded treats under the direction of her, Cup Cake, and Carrot Cake. Despite the organized chaos, it was a remarkably upbeat scene, and the excitement of the moment vibrated out of Bon Bon's fuzzy eartips as she smiled and hoofed a bite towards the young stallion before her. "You're the one who wrangled up this motley crew of organizers! Your opinion matters!"

Flash Sentry stifled a yawn. He was running slow on sleep... and even thinner on steam. It took a great deal of effort just to stand up, and the one thing keeping him afloat was a persistently wry grin. "No. The crystal ponies' opinion matters! They're the ones who are hosting this whole event!"

"And it's to treat and welcome the taste buds of Equestrian citizens far and wide!" Bon Bon frowned, although a layer of playful resolve laced the edges of her muzzle. "You gotta tell me what you think!"

"Please. I gotta stay fuzzy and impartial," Flash slurred, trying not to drool. He shook his head and allowed the rush of blood to coax him slightly more awake. "Besides—trust me—my taste buds aren't exactly as up to par as you think."

"Well, I gotta get a taste test from somepony!" Bon Bon pouted.

"A-ahem..." A dainty hoof reached in. Bowing, Fancy Pants took a slice of dessert with telekinesis and floated it towards his muzzle. "Allow me."

"Oh! Hey there... Mister..." Flash smiled dizzily at him. "...Fancy Pantsandexplosionsss—whew!"

"Hrmmmmm..." Fancy Pants nibbled on the morsel. "Hmmmmm...!" He slowly nodded, his monocoled gaze searching the steamy ceiling of the bustling kitchen. At long last, he swallowed his bite and smiled. "Subtle cinnamon... with a touch of vanilla." A breath. "Goes in smooth and goes down even smoother! Why, I feel like my insides have gone soft with delight!"

"Oh! That's great!" Bon Bon did a little jig in place. "Woo! I just knew the batter was thin enough! I hate making treats that feel like rocks in a pony's stomach!" She smiled gratefully at the aristocratic stallion. "So, you liked it, sir?"

"Indeed I did, madame!" Fancy Pants stood tall. "I suspect the dignitaries from Canterlot will think no less! And they're a group of ponies who are positively spoiled on sweet delicacies. Trust me." He chuckled, adjusting the collar of his jacket. "I'm quite an expert!"

"Heeheehee..."

"I'm not certain I've introduced myself." He bowed slightly. "I am Fancy Pants, owner of the Midnight Oil and—"

"Oooh! You were the one who led the expedition to the diamond dogs' home!"

"Quite right. Although—I'm certain Prince Blueblood might be apt to argue one or two points concerning the matter. But Prince Blueblood can also go soak his head in the cream dispenser!"

"Hahaha! Okay then...!"

"I trust you are the entrepreneurial Miss Bon Bon from Ponyville."

"Why... yes..." Bon Bon blinked. "Have you heard of me?"

"I just got back from appraising the baked goods that the Cakes are making," Fancy Pants said, gesturing across the kitchen. "Such a fine couple. They speak very highly of you."

"Oh... yes... uhm..." Bon Bon blushed slightly. "We all get along well in Ponyville. I suppose one would... expect us to be more competitive, but it's just not in our spirit to clash over foodstuffs. Besides... we don't exactly rob from each other's clientele."

"I take it you're an expert confectioner and they're gifted in bread baking."

"That's one way of putting it."

"Well, jolly good spirit—the whole lot of you." Fancy Pants grinned. "No doubt—in preparing to make the whole of Equestria swoon—you've done a fine job impressing the Crystal Imperialist workhorses who have volunteered to assist you."

"Oh... uh... sure!"

"A fine thing!" Fancy Pants said with a wink. "We are here to make friends, after all. Unification and such." He turned to look at Flash. "Right, Brad, old chap?"

"Heeeeeeeeeeey..." Flash Sentry grinned stupidly as he teetered before an open vat of twirling taffy. "...where's Bad Mr. Frosty? Talk about a cheap-ass grab throw... mgrhhhhg... is that your best, Interplay?" And he teetered too far—

"By George!" Fancy Pants grimaced, leaping forward.

He caught the teenager before he could collapse into the bin. Then—with a carefree cough—he led the stallion towards the side room adjacent to the kitchen.

"Brad? Are you... quite alright?"

"Do you think if..." Flash's eyes rolled a he struggled to stay upright. "...if m-my favorite character in M*A*S*H was Corporal Klinger..." He squinted at Fancy Pants. "...does that make me The Gays?"

"Dare I ask, my boy, when was the last time you got some sleep?"

"Oh, I dunno." Flash rubbed his head, squinting towards the brightly-lit kitchen. "At least one and a half story arcs ago."

"Hrmmm..." Fancy smirked. "I must say, you're making even less sense than usual."

"Then that must mean I'm improving." Flash giggled like a schoolgirl. "Phweeee."

"Ah. Yes. I see." Fancy guided Flash over to a chair. "Take a load off, ol' chap. Soarin is busy having a meeting with Spitfire. I shall see to it that your fellow organizers are tended to. Do not worry." He winked assuringly. "I shan't steal your thunder."

"My... Thor...?"

"This was your idea, after all. And while it may not be quite what either myself or Filthy Rich had in mind, I must say you came through when we needed a savior most!" Fancy patted him on the shoulder. "Catch some shuteye. When you wake, I shall fill you in on how the operation is going."

"Can't... sleep..." Flash said, nevertheless reclining back.

"Why not?"

"The morality horse... will..." A yawn. A closing of the eyes. A deflating smile. "...catch me..."

And he was out like a waning moon.

Nerdy

"Captain." Lieutenant Commander Data's pale fingers danced across the computer interface of his station. "We are being rapidly approached by a large spheroid object approximately thirty-five hundred kilometers in diameter."

Flash Sentry leaned forward in his chair. "Any life signs?"

After a computer blip-and-bloop, Data shook his head. "Negative."

After taking a contemplative breath, Flash nodded. "On-screen."

After an android keystroke, the viewscreen of the U.S.S. Enterprise flickered on to display a starfield. Off in the distance—growing larger by the second—was an enormous celestial object.

Flash Sentry stood up, adjusting the tunic of his red command uniform. With an authoritarian stance, he approached the screen. "Magnify."

Another blip, and the viewscreen zoomed in on the object—showing craters and maria and powdery trenches galore.

"There're no stars close enough for that thing to be orbiting!" Commander Riker exclaimed, probably kneeling on something in an awkward manner. "What the Hell is it doing way out here?"

"Captain." Counselor Troi stood up and walked up beside Flash. "I am sensing exposition."

Flash's brow furrowed. "Is it hostile exposition?"

Troi slowly shook her head—Mediterranean curls flailing. "At this length into your journey, I don't see what we have to lose."

"Captain." Lieutenant Worf leaned against the tactical station, frowning with emphasis. "I recommend that we go to yellow alert. Arm all photon torpedoes and prepare for a full frontal assault."

Flash raised a casual finger. "Belay that, Mr. Worf. I'm not about to go to war with any moons today. We'll remain understandably cautious, but there's no need for battlestations."

There was a digitized blip-blop, and Data announced: "The object appears to be slowing down, Sir."

"Tell Laforge to go to half impulse."

"Aye."

Another alert—this time more urgent.

"Captain," Worf sounded off, his voice scratchy with caution. "The moon is hailing us."

Flash Sentry folded his arms. "On Screen."

The starfield vanished, and in its place appeared a pale skinned, blue-haired Romulan wearing broad shoulder pads. Vice Principal Luna arched her angular eyebrows and droned: "'Morality Horse?'"

"H-Hey!" Flash suddenly grinned wide, slapping his hands together. "Luna! It's you! Haha! Welcome to the Neutral Zone!"

Troi looked concerned. Data turned around, puzzled. Riker and Worf exchanged worried glances.

"Oh... uh... sorry... ahem..." Flash coughed into the back of his hand. "Too 'Captain Archer' for you guys?"

"I was sincerely hoping that I could finally speak to you," the Romulan-human-equine -woman said on the viewscreen. "It would appear as though things have gotten more complicated."

"Oh! Hold up!" Flash snapped his finger. "Before we take this conversation any further—!" He spun around, fumbling. "I got... uh... uhhhh... I-I got something to show you!"

"Mr. Sentry..."

"Just hang on!" Flash searched around the Captain's Chair. "I left it here somewhere!"

"Captain?" Riker blinked. "Is something the matter?"

"Stay still..." Flash reached up, yanked Riker's beard off his face, then pulled the crank. BRVVVVVVVVV! The beard spun on its chain, and Flash used it to saw the captain's chair in half—then the rest of the bridge entire. The set piece sliced into two, exposing Emperor Palpatine's Tower Interior behind it. Father and son clashed with lightsabers, filling the chamber with noise. Flash walked across a catwalk, reached into a blue British police box, pulled out a face-hugger, ripped it in half, then pulled out a slime-covered diarama of the Crystal Empire. "There we go." He left the lightsaber battle—ducking beneath a sith lightning beam or two—then returned onto the chainsaw'd set of the Enterprise's Bridge. "Check it!" With Dr. Strange fingers, he threw the diarama onto the floor before the viewscreen, enlarging it in midfall. Once it landed, there were miniature fireworks and miniature confetti flickering over a sea of miniature party-goers filling up the crystalline streets. "It's tomorrow! Or—at least—the day after tomorrow! And it's all because I got the band back together!" He smiled. "And—of course—by 'band' I mean a bunch of really well-to-do Ponyvilleans who made the celebrations of Equestrian Unification possible!"

"I am quite aware of unification, Mr. Flash," Luna said.

"Of course you are!" Flash giggled. "You're a Romulan!"

"While I may be garbed in the substance of your fantasies, I cannot pretend to understand them." Her alien brow furrowed. "As it stands, your jocular speech falls on deaf ears. Suffice to say, there is more important matters ahoof."

"You talking about the Supernova?" Flash folded his arms with a lengthy sigh. "To be honest, I was never a big fan of that plot device. I'm not about to get on the hating J.J. Abrams bandwagon, though..."

"I speak of your unnatural presence here in Equestria, Mr. Flash," Luna said. With the grace of living liquid, she walked forward and phased through the viewscreen. Once she was standing inside the partially-demolished bridge of the Enterprise, she had morphed back into a vice principal human in a pantsuit. "They know that you are here, Mr. Flash."

Flash froze in place.

"I speak of the Princess of Friendship. Her allies." Luna gazed down at him. "Soon—even my sister."

Flash squirmed. He looked off towards the starry distance above.

"It is only a matter of time—very precious little of it—and I will no longer afford the luxury of keeping your location secret. To do so would only serve to undermine the special interest of those whom I am loyal to."

"Sunset Shimmer..." Flash Sentry grimaced. He was hugging himself by this point. "She must have told Princess Twilight." He gulped. "How long have they been searching?"

"For the past day at least. Ever since the Princess' business elsewhere in Equestria had ceased." Luna paced about the teenager. "Locating you is now a top priority, and I've no doubt that Twilight will be enlisting the help of Celestia. In turn—Celestia will turn to me. I cannot lie to her, Flash Sentry. Not after the history we've been through."

Flash nodded. "I understand."

"Then... you will cooperate if it is willed by the Princesses that you come out of hiding?"

"Sure. Totally. Just..." Flash fidgeted. "Not right away!"

Luna sighed. "Mr. Sentry..."

"I-I-I've got so many things to do!" He pointed at the crystalline dioarama before them. "The celebration! The organizers need me! The stewards of the Crystal Empire need me!"

"You are not of this world, Mr. Flash. Just as magic does not belong in your home, you do not belong here. The nature of this situation cannot be ignored."

Flash gaped at her. Blinking. "You mean... you mean I've got nothing left to do here?"

"... ... ..."

"That was the big deal, right?!" He stepped towards her, trembling. "You s-sensed that I had something to do in this world! A-a-and I thought I was done with it before! But it turns out I wasn't! And I'm glad that I found out! Cuz I'm doing so much to help with the Unification and the ponies of Ponyville and... and—"

"Do you honestly believe your destiny lies in a place where you weren't born?"

"You know that it can't be over yet!" Flash chuckled hystericall, running a hand through his hair. "I just... I-I just gotta see how many more lives I can touch! I gotta keep going! I mean... who's going to help the Equestrians and the Crystal Ponies stay at peace with the Diamond Dogs or... or—"

"Flash..." Luna rested a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Has it occurred to you that you're looking in the wrong place?"

He bit his lip.

She gazed calmly, thoughtfully at him.

"I... I just have to do a few more things... that's all..." He stammered, backing up from her. His voice was breathy. Anxious. "I'll find what my purpose is here! I-I promise you! I just can't spend it all sleeping!"

She calmly said, "If all you do is keep moving, you'll never find the time to discover—"

"We'll see about that!" He reached a computer station and slammed his palm over it. "Computer! Activate Self-Destruct Sequence! Authorization: boogers!"

Majel Barrett's voice crisply replied: "Please enter a countdown timer."

"Right the Hell now!"

POWWWWWWWWWWWWW!

Zoop

Flash Sentry woke up with a horse snort.

The nearby kitchen was considerably less crowded. He sensed crystal ponies shuffling towards the lobby with wheel'd carts full of treats.

"Rnnngh... guh..." Flash flailed, then fell off his chair. He landed on all fours, stifling a whinnying sound. "Praise God I didn't have Mulgrew's boobs. Mrffff" He rubbed his snout, wincing. "Mrmffff... theyknowI'mhereTheyknowI'mhereTheyknowI'mhere..."

"Huh?" Bon Bon's voice came closer, as did her trotting hooves. "Who knows you're here, Brad?"

He raised his hoof, smiling wide. "Beverly!"

"Uhm... it's Bon Bon."

"Good enough!" He planted his hooves on her startled shoulders. "How long was I asleep?"

"Uhhh... according to Fancy Pants, he said you started taking a nap about three hours ago."

"Too damn long!" Flash Sentry paced back and forth across the hallway. "Time to take action!"

"Brad—honestly, I think you need to get more sleep than that—"

"No time!" his voice cracked. "I gotta get a head start."

"On what?"

"Everything! All the things!" He gnashed his teeth as he paced and paced and paced. "Because I'm missing something! Something that's gotta be right in front of me!" He gnawed on his bottom lip. "Mmmmmm... something that I gotta nip in the bud before they find me! Or else all of this was spent on nothing!"

"I really... really... think you need a bit more sleep, Brad..."

"No time. There's n-no time!" He turned to face her, eyes bright and bugging. "Tell me, Beverly! What's better than bringing all of the horses of Equestria together for unification?"

"Uhhhhhhh..." Bon Bon leaned back, raising a nervous hoof. "Bringing..." She grimaced slightly, stuck between cringe and brainstorm. "...all... the creatures of Equestria together?"

"Hah! Bangarang!" Flash Sentry danced in place. "And why else are we having Unification here in the Crystal Empire?"

"I... thought Filthy Rich and Fancy Pants said it was because of their dealings with the diamond dogs of High Paw—"

"Dang straight it is! That's what's missing! It has to be!" Flash spread his wings. "Give word to Soarin for me, Bon Bon Crusher! I gotta zoop!"

"Huh?"

"Zoop!" And he flew off in a gold-and-blue blur.

"Hey! Hey!" Bon Bon stomped her hoof. "What am I going to tell Soarin and the others?!"

"I'm on a mission!" Flash's manic voice flew back. "Maximum zoopage!"

A zig-zagging flicker of shiny hallways later, and Flash emerged upon an early morning dawn. The sun glinted blindingly across the immaculately polished streets and rooftops of the Crystal Empire. His eyelids burned to the touch.

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah-yeah..." He seethed between his teeth, bowing his head as he attempted to take wing. "I'm alive and a half. Alive and a half." He panted for breath in a brand new heat, attempting to keep his wits together. "Just... just need to fly. I can get enough done before they get here. Before I have to—"

Whump! He bumped into an equine figure.

"Guh! Hey! Uhm..." Flash looked left and right, eyes still struggling to acclimate to the brightness. "Have you seen a handsome dude named Soarin? Dark blue mane? Sorta sounds like the voice actor for Disney's Aladdin?"

"Dude. You've got him," Soarin said, his body coming into focus. "I just woke up. Looks like you did too."

"Oh! Cool!" Soarin slapped his shoulder. "Just the horse-bro I was looking for!"

Soarin fought through a yawn, rubbing his eye. "I came to check up on how the catering was going..." His brow furrowed. "Are you ever going to tell me who this 'Aladdin' guy is—?"

"Look. Time is of the mucus."

"Mucus???"

"Whatever. I forgot the catch-phrase." He placed a hoof on Soarin's shoulder again. "I just realized we gotta invite someone else to the party."

"We do?" Soarin snapped awake. "Who? I thought we already got the ponies taking care of the food, music, and decorations—"

"We do! But this is more important than all of that!" Flash grinned crookedly. "Tell me, can the Midnight Oil take off?"

"Uhhhhhhhhh..." Soarin grimaced. "No. Not even remotely. Why? Can't we just fly to whoever and tag them—?"

"I don't think a train or stagecoach is gonna cut it, bro. Do we have anything else that can fly?"

"Well..."

"Come onnnnnnnn!" Flash shimmied in place. "This is do or die, dude!"

"I... think Prince Blueblood had a royal skiff that flew in from Canterlot. It's way smaller than the Midnight Oil but it's a lot faster—"

"Good! That'll do!" Flash trotted off.

"Whoah! Brad!" Soarin held him back by his tail. "You can't just go hijacking the Royal Prince's Zeppelin!"

"What if it's for the express purpose of perfecting this entire unification extravaganza?"

"Well... I suppose you could try and ask him—"

"Great!" Flash flapped his wings and soared towards the east end of town. "Let's go see him right now!"

"Uhhhh..." Soarin pointed west. "He's lodged thattaways."

Flash braked in mid-air, spun around, and flew west. "Pfft! I knew that!"

"Did you get enough sleep last night, bro?"

"About three hours, why?"

"Celestia dang it, Brad—"

"Come!" Flash gestured in mid-flight. "Tag along! I'll need your help in sweet-talking the Prince!"

"Nnnnngh..." Soarin rolled his eyes and eventually flew after the younger stallion. "Why am I always sticking my neck out for you?"

"Sssssssh! We're trying to fetch ourselves a ship! Don't ruin it!"

Breakfast

Prince Blueblood slowly finished a sip of his soup, dabbed his muzzle with a napkin, then looked calmly across the breakfast table of his crystalline hotel suite. "Now why in Equestria should I give up my prized royal speedster to the likes of you?"

Soarin fidgeted upon hearing that.

Flash Sentry on the other hoof—with a twitching smile and a flicking tail—swiftly retorted: "You're not giving up anything, Your Majesty! This is a matter of simply lending us your skiff so that we can make a quick pick-up!" He winked. "Trust me. It'll be for the good of Equestria... and to liven up these festivities even more!"

"I thought you and the Wonderbolts had taken charge of the festivities."

"We have!"

"Then why are you having to abandon the Crystal Empire so suddenly?" Blueblood arched an eyebrow. "Have you not summoned all of the caterers and decorators that you need?"

"It's not a matter of abandonment," Flash said. "This is the most important function in Equestrian politics to date, is it not?"

"Well, I certainly cannot deny that—"

"Then we wanna make it as awesome and prosperous for everypony as possible!" Flash Sentry waved a hoof. "And what made it possible for unification in the first place?"

"You would ask such a question?" Blueblood enjoyed a hearty chuckle. "Why—it's the agreement made between the Equestrian representatives and canines of High Paw." He sat tall and proud, smiling. "One may even say that a certain royal equine's timely intercession kept Fancy Pants from ruining the entire scenario with stubborn indignity."

"Snazzy!" Flash Sentry paced a bit across the foyer of the suite. "Soooooooo you of all princes should know how important the diplomacy has been! And how important it will be!"

Soarin nodded, adding his two bits: "It is the spirit of harmony and peace that brought us to this moment, as exemplified by the likes of you, your majesty."

"Right!" Flash pivoted to face Blueblood from afar. "So—in the same spirot of harmony and peace—I propose that you let Soarin and I go fetch the members of the Hawkeye Pack and bring them here so they can enjoy the festivities as well!"

"Yeah, because—" Soarin did a double-take, then gawked at Flash. "Wait... what the buck?!"

"Isn't that brilliant?!" Flash grinned, full of teeth.

Blueblood's brow furrowed. He reached out, grasped a chalice full of orange juice, then drank liberally. Once he was done, he exhaled, placed the glass down, and voiced: "Bring the diamond dogs here. To this city. With my skiff."

"Exactly!" Flash squee'd.

"Flash..." Soarin grimaced. "Bro... what in Tartarus do you think has gotten into you?" He whispered hoarsely to the younger stallion. "This celebration is too important to mess up now by doing something stupid..."

"In truth, I rather like it," Blueblood said.

"Uhhhhhh..." Soarin blinked wildly at the prince. "You do?"

"Indeed." Blueblood folded his napkin neatly and stood up from his breakfast seat. "While it's absolutely splendid that we've won the favor of the crystal ponies with this move..." He paced around the suite and moved towards the two stallions. "...my goal has always been to promote profitable coexistence with all factions of the Equestrian landscape. Making trade with the Diamond Dogs was just the first step. I still have dreams of making sweet with the denizens of Griffonstone. Appealing to the Yakyakistanians." He scuffled to a stop, smiling handsomely at the two. "Maybe even salvaging what's left of the Storm King's scattered factions—through money and friendship, of course. But mostly money."

"Could you imagine?" Flash Sentry beamed. "Allowing the Hawkeye Pack to witness the glory of the Crystal Empire with their own eyes? To see who they're making friends with... and how welcoming and inviting all equines can be?"

"Orrrrrrr show them how frickin' easy it would be to invade the crystal bastions!" Soarin stammered.

"My dear Wonderbolt!" Blueblood frowned at him. "Where are your manners? Haven't we learned from our journey that thinking so xenophobically is antithetical to the very notion of harmony?!"

"With all due respect, your majesty..." Soarin sighed. "While it's a wonderful thing that we made sweet with the diamond dogs, the truth is that they still don't think and act like ponies. I—for one—am totally for keeping the peace with them. But bringing a bunch of them into the heart of the Crystal Empire? Especially after they just recently learned not to assassinate ponies with a catapult? Well..." His eyes sliced towards Flash, glaring. "...it's still a dumb... stupid... risky move..."

"Yeah..." Flash grinned wildly. "Isn't it exciting?"

Soarin's lips pursed. "Did you sniff something since the last time we saw each other?"

"You mean besides the Prince's bitchin' apartment here?" Flash took a long, deep breath. "Mmmmmmmmm... lavender... the aphrodesiac of princesses..."

"Flash—I mean Brad—"

"Gentlecolts."

Both stallions looked at Blueblood.

The Prince stared them down. "I am no fool. I know that Captain Spitfire acquired permission from the stewards of the Empire so that you could do—under the authority of the Wonderbolts—what none of us could agree on. 'Us' being myself, Mr. Pants, and Mr. Rich, of course. And yet... it seems no small coincidence that my ardent desire to hire the best royal caterers from Canterlot to oversee the festivities has been completely and utterly ignored for favor of this... Ponyville agenda."

Soarin nervously cleared his throat. "Your Majesty..."

"Save it." Blueblood lifted a hoof. "You're only doing what's best for Equestria and the Crystal Empire, and I won't sour the whole matter with my own ego. However..." He paced about. "...the House of Blueblood stands to prosper from this endeavor one way or another. Otherwise, how will I afford the prestige to expand upon our harmonic and economical pursuits? This is something that Mr. Pants and Mr. Rich don't understand. In the end, it's about more than just bits and culture. It's about inspiration... and that's something written into my blood."

"Poor hemoglobin." Flash smirked. "Having to play second-fiddle."

"Bradddd..." Soarin growled aside.

"In short." Blueblood pointed. "If I can come out of this having greater prestige with the diamond dogs than the rest of my associates... well... let's just say that it's something I would greatly desire. And I would like to think I already set the foundation for that back at High Paw." His eyes narrowed. "If you can procure these Hawkeye representatives and bring them here to enjoy the time of their canine lives... I'll do my best to ingratiate myself to them. The awe and grandeur of this celebration shall become inseparable with the majesty of my influence. Why... I could end up becoming Canterlot's chief representative to the diamond dog embassy... once I have one built, of course!"

"Wow..." Soarin droned. "...such a harmonic outlook."

"I know, right!" Blueblood practically giggled. A cough or two later, and he stood tall and masculine once again. "I, Prince Blueblood of Canterlot, hereby give you permission to commandeer my skiff and summon the members of High Paw. Make sure it is members of the Hawkeye Pack in particular. Now—be quick about it. The Celebration's barely thirty-six hours away." He waved his hoof. "My servants shall bestow you my seal along the way out to present before the aircraft operators. Now be gone!"

"Gone-gone-going!" Flash Sentry eagerly dashed out of the suite.

"But... it...!" Soarin grimaced, the flailed to follow the other stallion. "Brad! Flash! Wait up!"

Stop

"Zippity-Doo-Daaaaa! Zippity-Yaaaaaaay!" Flash Sentry weaved in and around crystalline lampposts as he made for the southwest edge of the Crystal Empire, towards the zeppelin tower. "Myyyy ohhhhh myyyy what a racist songgggggg!"

"Flash!" Frowning, Soarin barreled around a corner. With very little time wasted, the expert Wonderbolt caught up with the teenager. "Dang it, Flash! Stop it right there!"

"Hey! Hey!!!" Flash coiled his wings to his side and aimed his falling fetlocks towards the shiny sidewalk. "Wanna see how far I can slide—?!" His hooves made contact with the ground and he nearly catapulted forward in a deathly somersault. "Oh shiiiiii—!" He scampered, flailed, and grinded to a hault against a lamppost. "Pffffft! Hahahaha! Ow ow ow ow..." He nuzzled up against the lamppost, giggling. "Heehee—guess I need socks for that. And a buttload of wax."

"Dude..." Soarin stood beside him, leering with wings spread. "For once... can't you just slow down?!"

"Slow down...?" Flash tittered out the side of his muzzle. His wingtips plucked invisible acoustic strings as he sang: "You're movin' too fast! Got to make the moment last!" He nuzzled the crystalline pole he was leaning against. "Hello lamppost, whatcha knowin'? Snkkkt—hehehehe—"

"Just... stop! Okay?!" Soarin slapped a hoof down. "STOP!" As his booming voice echoed, he took the moment to glare at the younger stallion. "I let you go full-goofy back at High Paw because it foiled a bunch of catapult assassins! I let you talk Spitfire into using the Wonderbolts to officiate the celebration—because nopony else would pick up the ball! But... but sailing back into the wilderness to fetch the Hawkeye Pack?! That's taking it too far, Flash—"

"Prince Bloomers doesn't seem to think so—"

"Prince Blueblood has the conscience of a tube worm!" Soarin growled, causing a few crystal pony pedestrians to glance curiously across the street. "And saying that is a grave insult to tube worms!" Soarin's teeth showed. "He doesn't care for what's 'harmonic' or 'diplomatic!' He only cares about his own special interests! You knew that and that's why you rubbed him the right way to help you with this crazy scheme of yours! Well it stops now!"

Flash struggled to stand upright against the lamppost. "Soarin, bro—"

"Don't 'bro' me!" Soarin pointed. "Your silly impulsiveness is gonna get you killed, Flash! One of these days—your luck's gonna run out! And I like you too much to let something awful happen to you, ya friggin' featherbrain!" He stomped his hoof once more against the polished sidewalk. "That's why I'm putting an end to your insomniac glide right here and now!"

"But... but it's so close to being perfect...!" Flash gulped, nuzzling the lamppost and shivering. "Soarin... please... you've got to let me work this out just right—"

"Flash, it's already been worked!" Soarin shrugged wildly. "You've assembled a miracle! The best and happiest of Ponyville are right here—setting things up for a royal blast in the Crystal Empire!"

"But... but I can do so much more..." Flash's teeth chattered. "If you would just let me—"

"What, Flash?!" Soarin cackled. "What more could you possibly do?! Why are you in such a crazy freakin' hurry?!"

"... ... ..." Flash's ears folded. He hugged the lamppost, slouching with a vulnerable, foalish expression. "... ... ...they know where I am, Soarin."

"... ... ...?" Soarin merely raised an eyebrow.

Flash gulped. "Twilight Sparkle. The Princess of Friendship. Her allies..." He squirmed. "Maybe even Princess Celestia. If not yet—then soon. They know I'm here... in the Crystal Empire and... and..."

"What?" Soarin shrugged, genuinely curious. "You think they're going to send you away?"

Flash practically whimpered. "Can they do that...?"

Soarin opened his muzzle. He fumbled for words... then plopped back weightedly on his haunches. The Wonderbolt blinked dumbly into the shine between them.

Flash gulped. "Time's running out, Soarin," he said in a tiny, delicate voice. "Please..." He slumped further against the base of the lamppost. "I can't stop. I'm afraid of what will happen when I do." He fought the urge to hyperventilate. "I-I'm afraid of all the chances that I'll lose..."

"Chances to do what?" Soarin spoke quietly too. He leaned down so that he was at face-level with the slumped teen. "You've done so much, Flash."

"Soarin..."

"You really have! Never mind the fact that I wanna suplex the stupid outta you right now." Despite fuming, Soarin managed a slight smirk. "You've truly done so... so much. For Fancy Pants. For Filthy Rich." He gestured at the city around them. "For the Crystal Empire. For Equestria. For Ponyville!" He winced slightly, then let it out: "And f-for me." He shook his head. "You haven't anything left to prove, bro. Trust me... whatever you think you're running from... get over it." A tender smile. "You're a good pony. A good human."

Flash's ears drooped even further. He fought it... but he had to blink.

And his eyes closed...

Shiver

Lamplight caught three bodies... three people fussing and arguing in the parking lot. Someone was shouting into a phone... pacing... cursing...

Flash felt his heart leap into his chest and turn cold. Nevertheless, he rounded the grocery store's corner in his car. His neck craned, peering out the window.

One person stood apart from the rest. A woman. She held a trembling hand over her belly. A turn of the head—eyes in the moonlight—and she waved towards him. She approached the car.

Flash felt a cold shiver up his spine. Nevertheless, he slowed the car. The window lowered. Stale night air. Crickets and scuffling shoes and the scent of gasoline.

The woman stumbled towards the vehicle. Crying. Night folded around her, black and thick and whimpering.

Skiff

"Pffft! 'Will we get there in time'?!" A gray-mane'd pilot scoffed before returning to the steering mechanism of Prince Blueblood's prized skiff. Cloudtops and tufts of air blurred by as the vessel barreled its way southwest. "We're not called 'Canterlot's Finest' for nothing! Heck..." He smirked, lowering a pair of goggles over his peering eyes. "...if it weren't for the pesky cargo limits, we would have conducted the initial mission to High Paw ourselves! But—his Highness' partners had a heavy load to deliver, so we were patiently waiting on backup duty and—"

"You don't need to give me the hard sell, buddy," Soarin muttered. "We're already on board." His mane whipped in the high winds. Glancing towards the stern, he saw the shiny sight of the Crystal Empire fading in the distance. There was very little room for the three ponies on board the gondola to stand. The bulk of the ship's mass was dedicated to the balloon and the massive propellers bulleting it along. "All I care is that we can get to High Paw and back within the necessary time."

"We'll be there before you blink!" the pilot boasted. "Can't lie. I'm crazy excited! Is this some secret mission? Is Blueblood backstabbing Mr. Pants and Mr. Rich by offering the diamond dogs a special deal under the table?"

"Er... no. Nothing of the sort." Soarin's muzzle scrunched. "But I'll keep in mind that you're open to such a crazy idea."

"Hahahaha! Don't mind me, Mr. Wonderbolt." The pilot steered the craft along. "I've been super bored this whole time—waiting to be of use to His Highness. You two are the high point of my week!"

"Yeah. Uh huh. Look..." Soarin gestured. "When we get to High Paw, just let me do the talking, alright?"

"You got it, pal! Now how about you sit back and rest easy, hmmm?" The pilot gestured back. "Seems like your young friend's got the idea."

"Thanks..." Soarin trotted back towards the rear of the gondola.

There, Flash Sentry sat slumped against the interior of the sparse cargo hold. His eyelids were heavy, and the manic cheer that had brought him to that point was hanging by a thread as he threatened to teeter into full unconsciousness. All that kept him awake—so it seemed—was a desperate glimmer in his eye, bright like the pale clouds gleaming by.

Soarin sorely wanted to leave Flash alone so that sleep would finally claim the teenager. But—somehow—the Wonderbolt knew better. "So... remind me again..." He slowly sat down across from the younger stallion. "...how exactly has Princess Luna been sticking her neck out for you?"

"Hrmmmmmmm..." Flash rubbed and rubbed his forehead. He looked at Soarin. Past him. "Remember... h-how I let slip that she's visited in my sleep...?"

Soarin slowly nodded. "Via dreamwalking? Yes. I'm still flabbergasted."

"It's... because she knows..." Flash gulped, his eyes darting towards Soarin directly. "...about me being human and such."

Soarin took a breath. "I guess that makes sense."

"She's been monitoring me from the very beginning," Flash continued. "No doubt to make sure I'm not... like... trouble or nothing..."

"Does she think you're trouble, dude?" Soarin asked, punctuating the question with a sly grin.

"Well... she hasn't told her older sister where I am," Flash said. "Or any of the other Princesses, for that matter."

"But now they know..."

Flash slowly, slowly nodded. "And I don't think she can afford to hide the truth any longer." He shuddered somewhat, then looked at Soarin again. "She told me something a while ago, Soarin. She told me that she sensed that I had 'much to accomplish' in Equestria. It was her 'royal intuition' or whatnot."

"I guess you took that really seriously."

"How couldn't I have?" Flash bit his bottom lip. "When one of the supreme magical horses of the world you're visiting tells you that you've got some divine purpose to do..." His words trailed off as he teetered sleepily.

Soarin smoothed his bangs back. He sat in heavy thought for a bit, then remarked, "You have done an awful lot for us, Flash. I can't emphasize that enough. The lengths you've gone for Equestria, Ponyville, the Crystal Empire..." His eyes narrowed. "If Luna expected you to 'accomplish much' during your visit, I'd say you've covered that thrice over and then some!"

"Still..." Flash slowly shook his head. "...I don't feel like I've done it. Not yet, at least."

"Is that in Luna's words? Or your own, bro?"

"I just... I-I just sense that something's left undone..." Flash fought the urge to shiver. "It doesn't add up."

"What more could possibly be done?" Soarin asked. "And do you really—honestly think that bringing the Hawkeye Pack to the celebration will somehow cinch it?"

"I've got to try, Soarin," Flash said. "I've got to try everything I can."

"And how do you know you're trying in the right areas, huh?" Soarin shrugged. "I don't know the Princess of the Night personally, but I can't imagine she's the kind of pony to lead you on a wild goose chase. From what I've heard—from what the likes of Rainbow Dash have told me—she's pretty straightforward to those whom she visits in the Dream World."

"... ... ... ... ..." Flash merely hugged himself.

Soarin nodded, carefully pivoting the subject matter by a few degrees. "What... precisely has turned this into such a crazy race against time?" He cocked his head to the side. "Can you at least tell me that?"

A sigh, and Flash muttered aside: "I don't belong in this world, Soarin..."

"It's gotta be more than that," Soarin said. "You're not some crazy friggin' monster, dude. What's the real reason, huh?"

Flash winced. He avoided Soarin's gaze. "I... I kinda sorta ran away..."

Soarin raised an eyebrow. "'Ran away?'"

"Mmmmm... from my home... from my school... from my folks..." Flash glanced back at Soarin. "How old do you suppose I really am, Soarin?"

Soarin shrugged. "I... I-I hadn't actually bothered to put my hoof on it, exactly—"

"I'm sixteen," Flash Sentry said. "When I left the human world... when I came through the mirror and entered Equestria... I did so without telling anybody."

"Anybody?"

Flash shook his head. "For all anyone back home knows, I'm probably dead by now."

"Oye..." Soarin tried not to wince, but failed. "Not exactly smooth..."

"Well, I didn't exactly care at the time," Flash grunted. His brow furrowed momentarily, but soon the angry resolve had lessened. He let it out through flaring nostrils, gazing at the clouds whipping by. "In a lot of ways, I sure don't."

"Don't you think your parents would be worried for you?"

Flash was deadpan.

"Well..." Soarin leaned back. "You certainly picked a dramatic way to find out."

"That's not why I left without saying a word."

"Then why did you?"

"Because I couldn't live another day in that... that hell," Flash Sentry spat. "Day in and day out. Lost in the shadows. Poisoned by... by all that heartlessness all around me..."

Soarin chuckled slightly.

Flash blinked at him with a curious expression.

"Ahem... sorry... just..." Soarin smirked. "You sound 'sixteen' alright..."

Flash rolled his eyes, then sank his muzzle into his forelimbs.

Soarin winced slightly. He leaned closer. "Look... I can't pretend to know all about you or what life in the human world is like. But... family is family. Even with all the mistakes your mother and father could have made, wouldn't they be worried about you? Or... or your friends...?"

Flash remained slumped over, his head in his hooves.

Soarin gulped. "Surely it can't be quite as awful as you think..."

"Sometimes... sometimes I wonder..." Flash muttered into his fetlocks. "...how much I should tell you... how much you should know..." He weathered a shakey breath, then lifted his muzzle. He stared at the clouds with a glazed expression. "...but that would ruin the reason I'm here in the first place."

"And what reason is that?"

"Living," Flash Sentry said. "Or something close to it." He slowly rubbed his hooves together, squirming. "Such a crystal clean pond. I... I don't want to dirty it. I don't want to soil everything..." He bore a bitter-sweet grin. "Back in my world, there's a concept known as 'baptism.' Ever heard of it?"

"Can't... say that I have."

"Doesn't matter." Flash hung his head again. "It's just a word," he muttered.

Soarin rubbed his chin, thinking hard. "There's something that I still don't quite understand. Like... Luna sensed your arrival in Equestria, right?"

"Uh huh."

"And she's been hiding your presence from the others... giving you time to get situated... do your thing..."

"Uh huh..."

"... ... ...then how come the Princess of Friendship knows you're here?" Soarin asked. "How—exactly—are ponies catching up to you?"

"Sunset Shimmer," Flash murmured. "It had to have been her. She obviously wrote Twilight and once Twilight read what Sunset had to say, she started searching..."

Soarin's muzzle twisted in utter confusion. "Huh???"

Flash sighed hard. He ran a hoof through his mane. "Remember when I told you about Marefriend Number One and Marefriend Number Two?"

"Yeah... ... ...?"

"Well..." Flash fidgeted. "...they were originally from Equestria."

Silence—save for the whipping winds.

"What...???" Soarin exhaled.

Blend

"Sunset Shimmer is... was the apprentice to Princess Celestia," Flash Sentry explained. "That's about... as much as I've learned about her life here in Equestria." He looked across the gondola of Prince Blueblood's skiff. "Seems like a really important role. I guess. I dunno. Anyways..." Stifling a yawn, he sat on folded forelimbs and continued. "At some point she went to the Dark Side."

"She what?" Soarin asked.

"She turned evil. Kinda sorta. Whatever. She wasn't a very nice pony."

"Well, if she's 'Marefriend Number One,' then she turned out to be a real supervillain."

"Heh. You know it, dude."

"Sorry."

"Don't be. Where was I...?" Flash blinked. "Oh yeah. So... she turned against Princess Celestia... or something. She came to Earth—my Earth—and while on some sort of power trip she came up with a way to use the magic funneling through the portal to dominate everything on my side."

"Yeesh."

"Oh, yeah, it sounds crazy. Only 'cuz it was. Sunset Shimmer... wasn't exactly in the right mindset for a long time. I don't know what went down between her and Celestia, but it couldn't have been pretty. So... uh... sometime after she arrived, she went back through the portal into Equestria. She was able to grab this... this thing called the Element of Magic and bring it back. With it—she had the power to transform into a crazy demon girl and mind control everyone she came in contact with. But that's when Twilight Sparkle—the Princess of Friendship—came through the mirror after her and stopped Sunset in her tracks. I... uh... I helped Twilight as much as I could at the time, cuz it was long after I had broken up with Sunset and I was... I was pretty smitten with Twilight when she first arrived—"

"Wait a second..." Soarin gestured. "Hold on just a minute..." His jaw hung agape. "You mean to say that Princess Twilight Sparkle—the Princess of Friendship—is 'Marefriend Number Two'?"

"Uh huh."

"And you had a hoof in helping her take down an Equestrian supervillain... who happened to be your 'Marefriend Number One?'"

Flash gulped. Flash sighed. Flash nodded. "Uh huh... ... ..."

"Phweeeeeeee..." Soarin leaned back, fanning himself. "Dude... no wonder you've got issues."

"Mrmmmmmm..." Flash buried his face in his hooves again. "Tell me about it."

Soarin winced. Fidgeting, he blurted, "But!" A hopeful smile. "You saved the day, didn't you? Or at least Twilight did." He twitched. "Princess Twilight and you."

"Oh, trust me..." Flash looked up with a faint glimmer of warmth in his otherwise dull eyes. "Sunset Shimmer turned over a new leaf. She's... almost unrecognizable from the bit—" He grimaced, but swiftly twisted his words: "—bitter teen she used to be. Like... she's done so much good... so much good for Canterlot High and the people back where I'm from. It's... it's really..." A weak smile—weak but earnest. "It's really something else." A nod of the head, eyes full of clouds. "I wouldn't mind being friends with her now. I guess... I guess there's nothing stopping me, it's just..." His words trailed off.

Soarin blinked curiously. "And Princess Twilight..." He already knew the answer.

Flash gave it anyways. "She went back. Back here. To Equestria."

"Is..." Soarin searched with his eyes. "...is that the reason you came through the portal—?"

"No!" Flash sneered.

Soarin legitimately jumped back.

Flash blinked... then sighed. "Trust me. Twilight Sparkle is the last pony I want to see right now."

"You sure about that, bro?"

"... ... ..."

"Because..." Soarin rubbed his chin, then shrugged. "...because maybe it wouldn't hurt, y'know?" His eyes narrowed. "Maybe you should just go on and let her find you."

"No." Flash was quieter this time. He shook his head. "No, I... I gotta do what I gotta do on my own."

Soarin chuckled, gesturing at the skiff. "Does this count as being on your own?"

Flash bit his lip.

After half-a-minute passed...

"Burned by an apprentice of royalty," Soarin murmured. "Then falling head over hooves for the Alicorn of Friendship." He smirked sideways. "If I didn't know better, bro, I'd say you had a thing for prince—"

"Don't."

Soarin shrugged. "I mean... that's tough. That's real tough, dude. I feel for you. Believe me."

"Thanks..." Flash looked off.

"Still doesn't explain a few things," Soarin remarked.

"Well... it's simple, really..." Flash gestured. "Sunset Shimmer—from what I understand—has this magic book. She can write in it and a pony on this side of the portal can read it. I think it's how she manages to keep up with both Celestia and Twilight. She communicates with them like... a long range magical cell phone service—"

"That's cool and all, but not what I meant," Soarin said. "Never mind how Twilight's come to know that you're here in Equestria. That doesn't bother me anymore." Soarin's brow furrowed. "What bothers me is..."

"Yeah...?"

"Why... like..." Soarin fidgeted. "...why is this Sunset Shimmer... who has obviously committed grave crimes in this world and beyond... who has been defeated by the Princess of Friendship...—why is she allowed to stay in the human world..." He stared sharply at Flash. "...but for some reason you're not allowed to stay here?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Flash gulped. "I'm just a kid, Soarin. Lawfully... human or not... I've got no reason to be in this world. I ran away and now—"

"Dude..." Soarin bore a sincere expression. "You're miserable over there. That's super flippin' obvious!" A blink. "Over here, you positively glow. Sure... you're sleepless and crazy as a lark—but we can work on that!" He grinned warmly. "We can fix it! We can get you to where you need to be and—heck—you can start a brand new life here! I mean... wouldn't that be awesome?" He even chuckled. "I mean... you've got all the qualities of a good pony! Really, you do! Just look at you! You're..." He waved a hoof. "You're kind-hearted. You're courageous! You're obviously attuned to the Elements of Harmony. Figuratively and literally! I mean—you helped Princess Twilight get back her Element, after all."

"It's not that simple, Soarin—"

"Why?" Soarin smirked wryly. "Because you're some 'icky' and 'untrustworthy human?' Tch... come off it, bro. You're totally... totally pony material! If Sunset Shimmer can live in your place, then I don't see why you can't live in a place like Equestria. I mean—you practically blend right in!"

"... ... ..." Flash blinked. "You mean I can disappear."

Soarin looked at him sideways. "Like... isn't that what you wanted from the beginning?"

Flash Sentry was silent. If he had an answer, there wasn't one to give at the moment. The clouds rolled by, and the bright glimmer of the day melted all around him.

Bat

"What I don't underssssssstand isssss why you poniessssssss didn't think of thissssss earlier..."

"Simply because we weren't! But just this morning—while setting things up for the celebration in the Crystal Empire—one of us figured... heck... what would it hurt to have you guys show up as well? It's your generous contribution that's making this whole thing possible, after all. Seems only fitting that you get to take part in the festivities. Only if you want to, of course. I know it's all very last second and nopony's gonna force you to do it or nothing."

"How do you know that other poniesssssss will even want usssss to be there?"

"What—just because you're diamond dogs you think that ponies celebrating will be afraid of you?"

"Yessssssssss."

"Hrmmmm... fair enough. But I promise you it'll be no big deal. Ponies aren't out to do anything bad to you guys. I figured you learned that days ago when we finished talking last."

"... ... ... ..." Flash Sentry's eyelids fluttered open. He blinked... curious to find himself lying on his side near the stern of the tiny dirigible's gondola. Wincing slightly, the sleepy stallion sat up. It was then that he noticed that none of the clouds were whizzing by the craft any more. In fact, the vessel hovered still. Dormant.

Flash spotted the pilot standing casually near the bow, looking over the railing. Just a stone's throw away was the familiar summit of High Paw, lit up by the noonday sun. Soarin hovered above a gathered crowd of diamond dogs, and three of them standing in the foreground looked particularly familiar.

"Besides—the citizens of the Crystal Empire are pretty chill. You'll find them easy to get along with. After all..." Soarin smiled down at the trio of Hawkeye Pack representatives. "...their next door neighbors—the Yakyakistanians—make you guys look like puppies in comparison."

"Woof!" Fido's jowels flapped. "Isssss that a challenge?"

"You idiot!" Rover slapped the large canine's shoulder. "That'ssssss the pony way of sssssaying we're friendlier than the Yak... Yak..." His slitted eyes crossed. "Yakyakyakyakyak—"

"Heh... doesn't get any easier to say," Soarin remarked. "Trust me."

Spot climbed up Fido's back and pointed up at the zeppelin. "You expect us to get in that thing?"

Soarin nodded. "It's the quickest way back to the Crystal Empire. Figured you Hawkeye dogs deserve a VIP pass to the party."

"Doesssss that mean something sssssspecial?"

"Oh, you bet!" Soarin exclaimed. "You remember Prince Blueblood?"

"Wassssssss sssssssshe the one with blonde hair?"

Soarin laughed. "Close enough." He smirked. "Well, anyways, Prince Blueblood is ready and willing to pay the expenses necessary for your business. He's hoping that you'll be willing to business with his royal house in the future."

"And what issssss it that you want, winged pony?" Rover asked.

Soarin shrugged in mid-flap. "I just want you guys to have a good time." He tossed his mane in the bright sunlight. "I want you to see that we ponies aren't nearly as nasty or manipulative as you think! And you'll be seeing a whole bunch of us! Different kinds of ponies from all across Equestria are showing up to this gig. Should be pretty sweet!"

"Hrmmmm..." Spot folded his hairy forelimbs. "You'll be wanting usssssssss to talk busssssinesssss the whole time."

"No. Not really." Soarin gestured. "I mean, you could if you want. No doubt Blueblood, Fancy Pants, and Filthy Rich would love to chat with you. But it's not the point of this visit. We just figured you deserve as much to enjoy the celebration as the rest of us. So... that's the whole point of this invitation!"

"Uhhhhhh..." Rover, Spot, and Fido exchanged blank expressions. It was Fido who ultimately looked quizzically at the zeppelin. "But we don't have any thingsssss to bring the poniessss."

"Again. No biggie." Soarin smiled pleasantly. "Just having you guys visit is a good gift enough. It means we've made progress this week! And—hopefully—both of our futures will be bright!"

The Hawkeye Pack mingled with the rest of the canine elders. The air above High Paw filled with mutterings and growls and low volume barks.

By now, Flash Sentry had stumbled towards where the pilot stood. "I... slept...?"

The pilot glanced over. "Oh hey, kiddo." He smiled slightly. "Yeah. Looked like an angel. Didn't wanna disturb a hair on ya."

"It... how..." Flash blinked through a wave of drowsiness as he regarded the scene happening adjacent to the hovering skycraft. "Why didn't he wake me?"

"Who. The Wonderbolt?" The pilot shrugged. "Beats me. Not that it matters. Heh... seems to have this whole thing pretty well handled. Gotta love them professional flyboys. They really know how to keep things afloat."

Flash shuddered, leaning back with a stupefied expression. "... ... ...he went to bat for me."

Around that very moment—

"Ssssssky pony!" Rover stepped out of the crowd. He maintained tall, intimidating posture. Nevertheless, he said, "The elderssssssss have agreed! We will be accompanying you to thissssss... pony fiesssssssta!"

"Sweet!" Soarin grinned wide. "Get all the things you need. This will likely take a few days of your time."

"Our eldersssssss have a message for you." Rover shifted slightly where he stood. "He would like to sssssssssay... hrmmm..."

"Yes...?"

"... ... ....poniessss are not at all what we long imagined."

Soarin chuckled. "I'll be sure to pass that along to Blueblood and Company. They'll be thrilled to know you think that way."

"But you had better not crassssssh us in that sky wagon of yours!" Rover pointed with a frown. "Or all of our kind wordsssssssss are as good as buried in the ground!"

"I'm pretty sure the pilot won't give you the satisfaction." Soarin saluted. "Give... uh... a bark when you're ready."

As the crowd busily milled about, Soarin flew towards the zeppelin. He smiled proudly.

Flash's bright blue eyes reflected his ascent. "...bro."

"Tchh—" Soarin held a hoof up, shaking his head. "Save it, buddy. You needed some z's for sanity's sake. Me? I got this sort of stuff handled." He sighed happily. "No offense to the diamond dogs' and their intelligence, but it feels like what I've always dreamed of doing." A wink. "Working with children."

"You got that right," the pilot said, then—with an amused expression—went back to check on the ship's controls.

This left Flash gawking at his bosom buddy. "How... can I ever repay you, man?"

Soarin's eyes narrowed. "Are you blonde with a gray coat and an adorable squeaky voice?"

"Uh. No."

"Then save it. You can't."

Fetch

"Whaaaaaaaaaaat?" Spot nearly reared back into a somersault. At the end of his exclamation, he leaned forward once again, staring across the interior of the skiff's gondola. "You mean you're jussssssssst some regular pony?"

"That's right," Flash Sentry said with a nod. He sat across the cabin from three Hawkeye Pack members. "Well... technically I'm a sapient bipedal creature in a pony's bod—"

Whap! Soarin smacked him with a wing.

"I'm a pony!" Flash grinned wide. "As pony pony pony as it ever gets!"

"It's jusssssst that..." Spot turned to look at Rover and Fido. Clouds breezed past the windows as the vessel continued its swift flight north. "...with all of the sssssssmart smartnessssssss you've been showing..."

"We figured you were a pony elder!" Rover added.

"Yeah!" Fido nodded. The big mutt had to scrunch his body low to fit beneath the roof of the flight compartment. "Twelve or thirteen yearsssss old at least!"

Flash squinted. "You don't think I look like a young pony?"

"Dog years..." Soarin murmured aside. "They think in dog years."

"Whatever." Flash shook his head. "Nah. I'm just visiting, really."

Soarin spoke over him. "He's a helpful equine soul. An Equestrian spirit to the core!"

"Hah!" the pilot hollered back from where he sat at the controls to the skiff. "Now there's a good pitch!"

"Who asked you?!" Soarin shouted back. "Anyways..." Soarin turned to smile back at the Hawkeye representatives. "It was his idea that we come back and fetch you guys." He winced slightly. "Sorry for using the word 'fetch.' I didn't mean to trigger... anydog."

"You mean it wassssssssn't the golden haired pony who sent for us?" Rover asked.

"Oh, Blueblood agreed when I brought it up to him," Flash Sentry said. "He lent us this ship and all. But..." He shrugged. "You're looking at the genius in charge. Guilty as charged."

"Woof! You're a criminal?" Spot asked.

"No, he meant—" Soarin ultimately face-hoofed. "Celestia spare me..."

"You'll find that ponies are full of surprises," Flash Sentry said. "The whole world is—really. All you gotta do is stick your head out of the ground once in a while."

"Hrmmm..." Rover leaned his head down to scratch his ear with his lower leg. "Pony philosssssssophy. How curious." His eyes narrowed. "Tell me. Do the crysssssstal ponies have any libraries?"

"Why... yes!" Soarin blinked wide. "Do you want to exchange ancient texts?" His wingtips fluttered as he smiled. "I'm sure both of our cultures would have priceless lessons to learn from one another—!"

"Naaaaah." Rover grinned with bright yellow teeth. "Books are tasty!"

"Yesssssss!"

"What he said!"

"Woof!"

"Yip!"

Soarin almost face-hoofed again. "I... do hope this is a good idea."

Flash rolled his eyes at the stallion, then smiled at the canines. "Surely there's something you find tastier than books."

"Nope!" Fido shook his tiny head. "Only books!"

"And bones!" Spot said, pointing with a paw.

"Oh right! Booksssss and bonessss! Heheheheh..."

"Really?" Flash raised an eyebrow. "Is that really stuff you enjoy eating? Or just chewing?"

Spot and Fido blinked. "... ... ...there's a difference?"

"Idiotssssss!" Rover slapped them both upside the head. "Do I have to do all the talking?" He cleared his throat and stared squarely at Flash. "Actually, there are many thingssssss that diamond dogsssssss love to eat. But poniessssssss do not have any of it to share."

"I'm sure the caterers could come up with something that's... canine-friendly," Flash said.

"Really?" Soarin breathed.

Flash shrugged. "It's worth a try."

"Well..." Fido tapped his chin. "There issssssss that one pony thing."

"What pony thing?" Flash asked.

"Sssssssssssh!" Fido frowned at the larger dog. "No reason to bring that up!"

"Why?!" Fido shrugged with his massive arms. "The daysssssss of raiding pony caravanssssss is behind us! We know now they don't mean usssss any harm!"

"What... are you talking about?" Flash asked.

"Ahem..." Rover gestured with his paw. "We once... hrmmmmm... chanced upon a crate full of pony goodssssssss." He then gestured. "Inside wasssssss a bag full of... delicioussssssssssssssss brown treats."

"Sooooooooo delisssssssssh!" Spot drooled.

"Delissssssh delisssssssssssssssssh!" Fido drooled even more.

"They were the besssssssssssst stuff the Hawkeye clan ever tassssssssted!" Rover exclaimed. His eyes glinted slightly. "At firsssssssst, we thought it was the sssssssssssecret to pony success!"

"What did it taste like?" Soarin asked.

"Ehhhhhh..." Rover's ears folded. "...we diamond dogs do not have the same tassssste buds as ponies."

"Try me."

"Well..." Rover tapped his chin with a claw as he looked out at the blurring clouds. "...it was a round treat. Mussssssssshroom-shaped. Breaded... OH!" He jolted in place. "With thesssssssse little blue fruitsssssss inside!"

"Yessssssss!" Fido nodded. "Blue fruitsssssss!"

"Like berriesssssss!" Spot added. "Only blue!"

"Uhhhhhhhhhh..." Soarin's brow furrowed. "...a muffin? A blueberry muffin?"

"Isssssss that what they are called? Muffinsssssss?"

"Sounds an awful lot like what you're describing."

"Woof!" It was Rover's time to drool. "I sssssssswear on the bark of trees! If you poniesssssssss had these deliciousssssssss 'muffinssssssss' to share, we would heap all the crystalline jewelssssssss in existence at you!"

"I... don't know if anypony in the Crystal Empire is good at baking muffins," Soarin said.

In the meantime—Flash Sentry was laughing... and laughing a lot. He shook his head and spread his wings to keep from teetering over.

The three canines blinked curiously.

"Uhhhhhhhhhh..." Soarin leaned in. "Bro... what's so funny?"

"Just life... that's all..." Flash smiled tiredly. "Just when I think the race has run..."

"You know a pony who's good at muffin baking?"

"Boy do I." Flash looked towards the pilot and hollered: "Second bubble to the right and straight on 'til morning!"

Favors

"Ha!" The pilot of Prince Blueblood's skiff grinned wide. Gripping the controls in one hoof, he pointed the other fetlock at a glinting sight along the northern horizon. "There she is, canines and gentlecolts!" He threw a sly smirk over his shoulder. "Did I tell you or did I tell you?"

"Record time, buddy," Soarin nodded casually. "Thanks a bunch."

"Hrmmmmmm..." Rover scratched his ear another time and squinted across the gondola at the other two stallions. "Issssssss it normal for poniesssssss to be so boassssssssstful?"

"Only when you're a pilot of a royal prince's prized zeppelin," Soarin said. A blink. "Or a mare named Rainbow Dash."

"I gotta ask just one thing about this Rainbow Dash," Flash Sentry remarked.

"Go ahead."

Flash stared lethargically at the horizon and the glinting spires of the Crystal Empire coming into view. "... ... ...is she nearly as petite in this universe as well?"

"Huh?"

Flash exhaled. "Never mind..." He slumped back on his haunches. "Just rambling. Always rambling."

Soarin looked at him... studying the teenager's somber expression. At long last, he spoke, "Y'know, dude..." He shuffled closer so that the Hakweye Pack representatives couldn't hear him. "...the pilot's under our command. There's nothing stopping us from... say... telling him to bring the skiff to a crawl. Right here and now." Soarin's eyebrows raised. "We could cruise slowly enough that... one of us could take off... maybe fly solo to any other part of Equestria..."

Flash turned to gaze at Soarin.

Soarin shrugged. "Only if he wanted to, of course." A breath. "Or felt it was necessary."

Silence.

Flash inhaled slowly. He looked back north towards the incoming sight of the Crystal Empire. "No," he finally said. "I gotta see this through. I've put so much into it."

Soarin's voice rolled: "You've put all the pieces into place. It's just a matter of gravity now—"

"Everything's caught up with me too. It's time to stop running," Flash said. "Princess Luna? She didn't visit me when I slept earlier."

Soarin merely nodded.

"This is it, dude," Flash murmured. "This is where I make my last stand." His sad eyes bravely reflected the crystalline streets and buildings unfolding before them. "I might as well spend it doing as many good things for ponies as I possibly can."

Soarin smirked. "It's what you're good at."

"Thanks, dude."

A shrug. "Just being honest," Soarin said.

"No, I mean..." Flash glanced back at him. "...thanks... for making such a cool offer. But." He gulped. "I need to be here. No more running."

"You sure?" Soarin gazed at Flash.

Flash gazed back. "I'm sure."

Silence.

"Are... you ssssssssssssssure you're not married?" Fido asked. Smack! Spot smacked the large canine atop the head. "OW!"

Rust

"...and as splendid as this urban spectacle may appear to the untrained eye," Prince Blueblood proudly spoke. Flanked by royal guards, he trotted leisurely down the shiny streets of the Crystal Empire, personally "escorting" the Hawkeye Pack along with Flash Sentry and Soarin. "I assure you it's even more luxurious on the inside. I speak—of course—of the finest in pony architecture and antiquity—preserved from the past in all its glory!"

"Yessssssssssss..." Rover nodded, his slitted eyes darting back and forth with no small amount of anxiety. "I ssssssssssssee." He, Spot, and Fido crowded together in mid-stroll, noting how many of the citizens were gawking at them from a distance. "Thessssssse poniessssss musssssst never have witnesssssssed Diamond Dogssss."

"I will admit..." Blueblood nodded. "More than a few of them have never graced your kind."

"Isssssssss it becaussssse they have been losssssssst in shadow for over a thoussssssssssand years?"

Blueblood did a double-take. He scuffled to a stop—along with his guards—and pivoted about to blink at the canines in surprise. "I... was not aware that you knew anything about the Crystal Empire's history."

"Woof!" Fido stood even taller and prouder. "We're not as dumb assssss you think! For instance!" He pointed across the street. "That there isssssss what you call a 'rhombus'!"

"You idiot!" Spot shook his paw at the big oaf. "That'sssssssss where horseshoessssss are forged!"

"Actually..." Soarin smiled aside. "...that thing you're looking at is what ponies call a stagecoach."

"And it's set to take us to the royal quarters where we will be staying during the festivities." Blueblood blinked calmly. "Presuming—of course—that you are willing to accept our good grace."

"I don't get it..." Fido scratched his hairy head. "You could not perform an entire mussssssssical performance on top of that thing! So why do they call it a [b\ssssssstagecoach?"

"Raaaugh!" Rover shook his paws in the air and growled, causing a few local ponies to flinch. "Who caresssssss?! It's a ssssssssssilly pony word for sssssssilly pony things—" His eyeslits froze in place. Blushing through his fur, he curled up slightly and threw a meek look in Blueblood's direction. "A thoussssssssssand pardons. Old dog habits."

"Quite fine." Blueblood grinned. "We'll just have to teach you new tricks."

Flash Sentry tried his hardest not to face-hoof. Soarin merely patted his shoulder.

"If the oddly-named form of equine transportation does not suit you, then we can easily arrive at our destination by hoof. Or—in your case—by paw." Blueblood cleared his throat. "Perhaps it would be more scenic that... way...?" He blinked, brow furrowing in curiosity.

Simultaneously, all three canine representatives had been mesmerized by something. They lurched across the street, practically drooling with awe.

"What..." Spot began.

"...issssssssssssssssss..." Rover supplemented.

"...thissssssssssss?" Fido completed.

"I beg your pardon?" Blueblood asked in a meek voice. His bodyguards took on tense postures.

"Thissssssssss... mossssssssssst ravisssssssshing beauty of pony conssssssstruction," Rover said, his eyeslits converting into veritable pulsing hearts.

"I..." Blueblood squinted at the sidewalk. "...fail to see what has seized your attention, so."

"It's that thing," Flash Sentry said, pointing at a cylindrical object made of crystal that was sticking up out of the ground.

"It'sssssssss..." Spot whimpered and moaned like a sick puppy. "...beautifullllllll."

"Oh that?" Soarin scratched his chin. "It's called a fire hydrant."

"It's attached to the highly-pressurized liquid plumbing of the city that runs underground," Blueblood explained. "It's a key utility of the fire department here... used for putting out rampant blazes and preserve property."

"A fire hydrant..." Fido cooed, leaning in to lovingly stroke the object.

"Mussssst be worth all the jewelsssssssss in horse land..." Rover added.

"They ssssssssshould have sent a poet!" Spot wept.

Flash was milliseconds away from bursting into absurd laughter, when—

"Flash!" A body galloped towards him, breathless. "Flash Sentry!"

Flash froze in place.

Blueblood pivoted about, eyebrow arched.

"Uhhhhhhhh..." Soarin walked in front of Flash, staring down the equine as she galloped up. "Is there... somepony that you're looking for?"

"Yes!" A crystal pony skidded to a stop, almost wheezing. "You two!" She pointed at Flash. "Especially him!"

"He goes by the name of Brad—"

"I... I-I am just doing what Miss Melody t-told me!" The mare gulped. "She said to 'run out and fetch the organizer! He'll respond to 'Flash Sentry!'"

Flash exhaled slowly with relief.

Soarin glanced at him. "Must be crazy important."

"It is!" the crystal pony yelped. "Please! You must come right away!"

"Is Octavia okay?" Flash asked.

"It's not Miss Melody you should be worried about! Down in the banquet hall!" She winced, turned around, and galloped off. "You have to come see!"

"I guess that's our cue." Soarin turned about. "Your Highness—?"

"Do carry on." Prince Blueblood waved a hoof. "I am quite certain my guards and I can handle our guests from here."

"Thanks," Flash said, taking off on flapping wings. "Oh! And thanks for letting us borrow the skiff as well! Totally brotastic of you!"

"Yes. Erm... quite." Blueblood waved the two stallions off. He then turned to face the Hawkeye pack. "Now, gentlefellows. Where were we—?" He immediately had to grimace. "Ungh... Sweet Celestia..."

One of his guards leaned in towards the other, his stalwart eyes affixed to the crowding trio of canines. "I've always wondered. Can crystal rust?"

Keen

Flash Sentry smelled smoke before he was halfway down the ornate stairs leading into the banquet hall beneath the Crystal Palace. He entered the large chamber, already prepared with a grimace. His eyes narrowed upon a smoldering blaze that was presently being extinguished by no less than two dozen crystal ponies with buckets of water.

"Whoah-whoah-whoah..." Soarin grimaced, hovering in mid-air. Many of the dining tables had been arranged, and an elaborate stage was erected along the width of the chamber, complete with a practicing orchestra. However—smack-dab in the middle of the otherwise immaculately decorated room—a fire was just then being put out. An array of floral arrangements had tragically turned to blakened ash. "Since when did we order an indoor bonfire?"

"We didn't." Flash Sentry looked left and right and left again—"!!!"—He spotted Octavia, looking somewhat frazzled. "Hey! Octavia!" He flew over and landed beside her. "We came as soon as we heard. What's going on here?"

"Well..." Octavia rubbed the tiredness out of her eyes and straightened her bowtie. "Things were going swimmingly, aside from a few flubs with the musical arrangement, which Vinyl is working on as we speak. So you needn't worry to much about that—"

"The fire, Octavia," Flash droned. "What's with the sudden Smokey the Bear pageant?"

"Well... erm..."

One of the crystal ponies who had just put out the blaze galloped up, covered in sweat and soot. "Mr. Brad!" She panted for breath. "Praise the Heart you came! We just put it out, so crisis averted."

"Yeah. That's cool and all." Flash's eyes narrowed. "How in the Hell did it get started?"

"Well..." The crystal mare fidgeted. "You know how you can accidentally start a fire with three baskets of lillies, a horseshoe, and glittery silver table cloth?"

"Uhhh. No. No I don't."

She gulped. "Neither did I... until today..." Chewing on her bottom lip, she turned to look towards the center of the room.

Ponies backed away. That's when Flash saw a familiar winged figure sitting—deflated—on a loan stool with her blonde head in her hooves. Her shoulders shook in the unmistakable sign of unmitigated sobbing.

"Awwwwww Christ on a pogo stick..." Flash grimaced. He patted the crystal pony's shoulder and trotted towards the scene. "Derpy? Miss Hooves...?"

"D-don't come any cl-closer...!" Her squeaky voice was extra squeaky with sorrow. She sniffled and whimpered between every other word. "...I'm a tr-trotting disaster..."

"Hey! They took care of it!" Flash smiled. "You're no disaster—!" Behind him, a random table erupted in flames—PHWOOOMB! Crystal ponies shrieked and galloped over, splashing water in a torrent. The flame sizzled, and smoke rose thickly towards the ceiling in a black column. Flash closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and re-forged his smile. "—seriously. It's okay! Just... just..." He crossed the distance between them. "...just tell us what happened."

"I..." Derpy shook her head in her hooves, drooping even more. "I-I just don't kn-know what went wrong..."

"Maybe there was... uhhhh... a chemical in the table cloth that caught friction and—"

Derpy looked up, her rotating eyes full of tears. "I was j-just showing the crystal ponies how to properly fold a napkin! Next thing I knew..." She looked at one hoof with a pouting lip. "...my horseshoe went flying! And then there were sparks and screams and... and..." She whimpered. "You shouldn't have brought me here."

"Don't say that, Miss Hooves—"

"Really, you shouldn't have! I'm going to ruin everything—"

Flash gestured at the furnished half of the room. "These decorations are gorgeous! You have a gift for prettying up the place! We need you for this celebration, Miss Hooves! Otherwise we wouldn't have chosen you!"

"But... but..." Trembling, Derpy stood up. "...everytime I so much as try to—" She slipped, and her flank fell back down with thunderous force. CRACKKK! The stool snapped in half, and two of its legs went flying out like missiles.

Swisssssssh!

Sw-Swiiiiiiish!

Dozens of crystal ponies shrieked and threw themselves to the ground, ducking for cover.

Flash Sentry twirled in mid-air, dodging the projectiles.

Octavia hid behind a table and Vinyl Scratch dove behind her DJ Booth. P-P-Pinnng! The table legs ricocheted off various instruments and crystalline wall-panels before flying back the way they came.

SMASSSH! One flew into a disco ball overhead, shattering it into a million reflective pieces.

Swoooooooooooosh—Thap! The second flew neatly into the grip of Soarin's left fetlock. "... ... ..." Calmly, the Wonderbolt exhaled and flew over the fresh sea of disco ball shards. He landed beside Derpy, juggling the stool leg in one hoof. "Y'know..." He smiled. "...I should have Spitfire have you over at the Academy for target practice! That was kinda cool!"

"No..." Derpy sobbed, hiding her face again. "No it wasn't—!"

"Hey..."

"I... I'll just go..."

"Miss Hooves..."

"I'm sorry everypony—"

Soarin dropped the wooden object and grasped her shoulders in both hooves. "We get it. You're sorry. That's fine! Now... let's take the next step to make things right!"

"How..." Derpy shivered, avoiding his gaze. Tears continued rolling down her fuzzy gray cheeks. "How can I possibly make this right?"

"You've got a job to do, don'tcha?"

"But... every time I try to lend a hoof..." She clenched her teeth, seething. "I-I only make things worse!"

"We can't get these decorations done without your keen eyes!"

"Believe me..." Choking back a sob, she covered her sockets. "These are not keen."

"Hey..." He gently lowered her hooves.

She looked up at him, teary and trembling.

Soarin smiled. "You've got many gifts, Miss Hooves. You're what ponies call a 'Renaissance Mare.'"

"I'm more like a Bloody Sunday."

Soarin shrugged. "What is genius without a little bit of eccentricity, huh? Now you've been doing a wonderful job setting this place up so far."

"Yeah... until I t-touch things."

"Then don't touch things!" Soarin smiled. "Why not just direct us and we'll do the setup for you? Heck... direct me and I'll make sure things match what's in your head!"

"You..." Derpy rubbed her eyes dry and sniffled. "You'll do that for me?"

"Totally! I mean, we're all in this together, aren't we?" He winked. "Just point and click!"

"P-Point and... click?"

"I dunno." Soarin shrugged. "It's what Mr. Bard always says. He's a crazy pony—but following his lead has helped us all so far. Wouldn't you agree?"

She giggled slightly—a heavenly break to the pitiable sobs that were coming out of her thus far. A crooked smile formed beneath moist eyes. "Yeah. I guess Mr. Bard's brought us far from where we were..."

"So... how 'bout we start off where you left off, huh?"

"But... there's such a mess now..." Derpy gulped. "I feel so responsible..."

"Let me worry about the hooves-on. You focus on the minds-on and plan ahead, yeah? We'll get this knocked out together."

"I... I forgot your name..."

"It's Soarin." He smiled handsomely. "Soarin of the Wonderbolts."

"Oh, you must be part of the band."

"... ... ... ... ... ...close enough!" Soarin grinned. He gently guided the mare over to a slightly-less-smoldering part of the room. "Now... how about you tell me where you were in the setup before things got crazy."

"Well... mmmm... I-I was suggesting that Mr. and Mrs. Cake set up the chocolate fountain between the two ice sculptures."

"Ice sculptures?"

"Well, they haven't been made yet. We only have the pedestals so far. I quickly hired a Yakyakistanian sculptor artist to make us two giant ice 'hearts' to place at the central banquet table, opposite the stage."

"Ohhhh! Like the Crystal heart!"

"Yes. Uhm... I figured having a few Yakyakistanian artists here would be in the spirit of the whole 'unification' stuffness."

"Haha! I like it! Brilliant! Really brilliant, Miss Hooves!"

Flash Sentry smiled as he watched the two trot off. "Hmmmm... I always wanted to pay her back for the flight lessons."

"Ahem..." Octavia was only just then brushing her mane fully straight. "...what was that?"

"Hey..." Flash spun around. "...you said you and Vinyl were having some trouble?"

"Just... we need more filler in the performance for before and after the stewards give their speeches."

"So... you need some music, huh?"

"I must confess that Vinyl and I are tapped dry. It has been a most taxing session." She blinked blearily. "Might you possibly be so kind as to donate us a few more samples from your otherworldly library?"

"Miss Melody, are you a mind-reader?"

"That depends."

"Hmmmmm..." Flash trotted with her towards the stage. "...let's see what we can wrangle up."

"Thank you most kindly, Brad... Flash," Octavia said, catching up with dainty hoofsteps. "It is quite appreciated."

"Doing musical homework side by side with Octavia and Vinyl Scratch," Flash mused to himself. "Back where I come from, that'd be consider a wet dream and a half."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Ahem. Let's get cracking, shall we?"

Icebergs

A crystal pony sat at a piano, hammering away at a beautiful melody while a trio of drummers added background percussion in layers.

Octavia stood beside the piano with a freshly scribbled musical sheet, conducting the musician as best as she could. The rest of the orchestra performers—including Vinyl Scratch—crowded around the scene, listening intently with faces full of enchantment.

At long last, as the pianist struck the final chords, Octavia swiped her hoof through the air to end the performance.

There was only a half-second of silence before everypony gathered around was clapping intensely. Vinyl in particular stomped her hooves against the stage while bearing a huge grin.

Flash Sentry smiled, clapping his fetlocks together for what it was worth.

"Marvelous... simply marvelous," Octavia breathed, visibly moved.

"Such an honor to play that," the pianist said with a touch of emotion in her voice. She turned around in her stool and smiled at Flash. "Mr. Brad... how did you come up with this masterpiece?"

"I thought I made it clear," he said, folding his forelimbs with a smirk. "I didn't compose it. I'm simply supplying it."

"And we are more than grateful," Octavia said with a nod. "This will most definitely enthrall the patrons who will be attending the banquet." She lifted a pen in her grasp. "In the spirit of good intentions, who might I tell the visitors this was written by?"

"A greek dude named 'Vangelis,'" Flash Sentry explained. "For an old movie that I can... never find the strength to stay awake through." He coughed sideways. "Figured you could get the piano part down pat. Still... nothing beats the original version with supplementary synthesizers."

"Ah! Maybe Vinyl could add her talents!"

"Pffft. Good luck with that. I can't compose with synthesizing equipment to save my life," Flash said with a chuckle. "Too bad there won't be guitar solos for this event. I'd be all over that shit."

"I'm... certain we can arrange something if the stewards allowed us to," Octavia remarked. "This is a celebration of embracing new cultures, after all."

"Heh... nah..." Flash shook his head. "The less I ruffled their hair the better."

"Why's that?"

"Forget about it." Flash Sentry stood up, gesturing. "You can add that number to your list of performances. If you get tangled up on the backup percussion, then just fall back on the other number I wrote down for you."

"Ah... yes..." Octavia ruffled through a stack of music sheets. "The aptly named 'Hello, Jude,' I presume?"

"Close enough!" Flash smiled. He made a grand exit, hopping off the stage. "Whelp! Gotta check on the rest of the preparations! Stay sexy, ya crazy horses!"

"So long, Mr. Brad!"

"Thank you so much!"

"You're the reason all of this is possible!"

Flash waved without looking back. His smile was subtle—if not a rosy one. "I'll be sure to remember it..."

He had lost track of time. Thus, as he made his way across the banquet hall, he pleasantly surprised to see that much of the fire damage had been completely cleaned up. What's more, nearly two thirds of the eating area had been completely furnished and decked out in dazzling decor. It was then that he noticed two figures seated on a pair of stools, flanked by crystal pony servants who were quickly carrying materials to and fro.

"Be sure not to mix two of the same colors in a row!" Soarin hollered, gesturing at the crystalline walls of the room. "And angle them towards the light so that they glitter with... uh... extra glitter!" Calmly, he turned to face the blonde seated beside him. "Okay. What next?"

"Uhm..." Derpy squirmed where she sat, timidly touching her two front hooves together. Her eyes rolled, gazing at everything at once. "We really need to clean up that patch of mildew up at the top."

"Whoah..." Soarin blinked. "I didn't even see that!"

"And if you can't get the stain out... uhm... maybe hang a faux chandelier in the spot. Then put the table of complimentary Crystal Empire snowglobes underneath it to distract the eye..."

"Sure! I mean... why not just go ahead and do that? Unless you think there's a better place to put the table—"

"No. Right there would be good." Derpy squinted as her eyes wandered and wandered. "Mmmmmmm... and make the chandelier lit with red and purple candles. It'll keep the look balanced with the torches situated left of the stage."

"Got it. Ahem." Soarin raised his voice, gesturing at the servants. "Put a chandelier up there to cover the stain! Also put the table of snowglobes beneath it! Once the chandelier's in place, fix it with red and purple candles! We'll wait to light them tomorrow morning before the guests arrive!"

"Sure thing!"

"Will do!"

"Looking good, sir—"

"Don't thank me!" Soarin grin wide, gesturing at the mare beside him. "She's the designer here! Heheh... I'm just passing the word along!"

"Mmmmm..." Derpy blushed slightly, squirming in her seat. "Thank you, Mister..."

"Hey! No problem..."

"Uhm... can I ask you something?"

"Sure. Go ahead."

Derpy brushed her golden bangs back. "Why... are you doing this for me?"

"Oh. Well... you know..." Soarin shrugged. "You were knee-deep in despair earlier... when you really didn't need to be. Brad... uh... Mister Bard picked you for a reason. You've got a real knack for design and you can think in ways most ponies can't."

"You really think so?"

"Isn't it obvious? I couldn't come up with all of this brilliant stuff in such a crunch for time!"

"Yeah, well..." Derpy fidgeted some more. "I'm no Rarity."

"Rarity?" Soarin snorted. "You mean as in the owner of Canterlot Boutique? I've met the mare. Nice pony. Very generous. But let me tell you..." He gestured with a smirk. "No sense of subtlety. She likes to be as extravagant as possible. But here? Beneath the palace? Seems like an awful shame to outshine the crystal ponies. But you? I think you know just how to pace it. Probably thanks to that down-home Ponyville country charm."

Derpy Hooves giggled sideways, her mane flouncing with each outburst. She smiled towards the opposite walls. "Jee... that's really nice of you to say."

"Well, I'm being honest."

"... ... ...do you fancy me, Mister Soarin?"

Soarin's ears drooped. He paled somewhat. "Uhhh... ermmm..."

"I'm curious," Derpy murmured. "Because... once or twice... maybe three times... another pony has fancied me before... but it only ended up with him or her in the hospital." She bit her lip. "I... I-I wouldn't want the same thing to happen to you. You're nicer than all the rest."

"Uhhhh... th-thanks?" Soarin brushed his bangs back. He winced. "What I-I mean is... you don't have to worry about that—"

"Oh. I see." Derpy gulped. "I was just getting the wrong signals. That's okay." She sighed sideways. "Wouldn't be the first time..."

"Huh?" Soarin's ears pricked back up. "No! You're right! I mean... those signals... uhm..." He blushed red as a beet, squirming in his stool. "...they... m-might kinda be true..."

"R-really...?"

"Mmmmmmmmyeahhhhh..." Soarin burned two holes in the floor with his eyes, heart palpitating. "...I'm pretty see-through, aren't I?"

"That's weird."

"... ... ... ... ...what's weird about it?"

"Just... you're kind of a handsome guy," Derpy said. "I mean. On top of being nice. The nice part is... nice. But the handsome part isn't bad either."

"Well, sweet!" Soarin smiled crookedly. "I'll have you know that I can be as handsome as you want me to be!"

"Heeheehee... if only life was that simple."

"It can be," Soarin said with a calm smile. "It can be simple... joyful... happy... innocent..." His tail flicked. "All the things I see when... I-I look at you."

She squinted one eye open, striving to keep it locked on him.

His reflection drooped slightly in it. "Look. I... I'm sorry. I'm coming on strong. I know. Just... I-I wasn't expecting that question you asked."

"Guess I wasn't expecting to ask it."

"I really... really want to help you with the decorations and stuff here," Soarin said. "Help make your name famous beyond Ponyville."

She nodded gently. "I know."

"But... when all is said and done... if you would... maybe... uh... like to hang out a bit?" He shrugged. "Over coffee or tea or—"

Her cheeks protruded with the mother of all grins. "Muffins?!?!"

"Oh! Sure! Totally!" His wingtips fluttered as she chuckled. "Muffins galore! Anything you want!"

"Heehee!" Her wingtips fluttered as she too chuckled. "Yaaay...!"

"And... uh... speaking of muffins." He smirked. "I think I might know of another opportunity you can take advantage of here in the Crystal Empire."

"Oh?"

"It was Flash—... Mister Bard's idea. But... the diamond dogs? The ones who helped make unification possible?"

"Yeah...?"

"Guess what's their favorite pony treat to eat?"

"Duaaaaaaaaah!" Derpy flew out of her seat. "No waaaaaaaaay—!" Her wingflaps blew the stool violently towards a passing pony's skull.

Thappp! Soarin nimbly caught it before it could make contact. "Ahem..."

Blushing furiously, Derpy squatted back down on folded legs. "S-sorry. Do continue..."

Soarin smiled. "Sure thing, girl." Mimicking her, he got off his stool and squatted on the polished floor beside her. "Well... turns out the members of the Hawkeye Pack who are visiting Prince Blueblood at the moment have an affinity for the stuff. Can you bake it?"

"Was Canterlot built in a day?!?!"

As the two chuckled and spoke on...

...Flash Sentry turned away with a lingering smile. On steady hooves, he trotted up a ramp and towards the surface level of the city above.

Calm

It was a pink sun that setted over the northern crown of Equestria. Calm. Gentle. Playful. Glittering bands of fuchsia light reflected off the summits of the buildings laid cyclically around the heart of the Crystal Empire. All around, local citizens were putting the finishing touches on the rooftops, balconies, and ledges. Crystal ponies polished the surfaces to an immaculate shine. As the light of the day dimmed and the air cooled, they took the time to smile and chat with one another. Their eyes resonated in time with the luminescent pulse of the Crystal Heart, hovering blocks away in the center of the antique urbanscape.

The first of several dignitaries had arrived. One by one, their zeppelins and stagecoaches gathered at the southwest edge of the city. Finely-dressed bodies were stepping onto the railroad station in droves, milling about with their luggage and flocking towards the local inns and hotel establishments. The air filled with excitement... hopeful chatter. Crystal hooves shook with fuzzy fetlocks. There was laughter... sighing... eyes gazing lazily at the burning west.

Flash Sentry strolled casually through the middle of it all. Ponies—both local and visiting—gathered merrily at street corners and exterior restaurants. He heard snippets of stories... tall tales hailing from the furthest edges of a magical horse world. The air smelled of lavender and other local flowers. Everything was crisp, clean, and lovely. There wasn't a single hint of garbage or decay to be found. Somehow—Flash realized—it didn't take that intense of an effort to make things this way in time for all of the visitors to arrive.

The sun continued its slow descent, vanishing beyond a crest of frozen mountains. The stars above came out—flickering on either side of a tapering aurora that swam between green and pink hues. One by one, crystal pony guards lit the torches that flanked the streets of the Empire. In the firelight, little colts and fillies scampered about, chasing one another and laughing while their parents and neighbors looked on. There was music somewhere—music everywhere. Communities hung out at doorstops, chuckling and murmuring with excitement for the day to follow. Closer to the Palace, guards were hanging tall banners that—in the morning dawn to come—would undoubtedly shimmer in the sunlight.

Flash Sentry breathed it all in. Halfway through his stroll, he tilted his head up and closed his eyes. The wind blew at his equine mane... tickling his tall, fuzzy earsh. Still—if he concentrated hard enough—he could almost imagine that he was walking on two legs instead of four. He imagined green patches of soil between subdivisions... the park just two blocks away from Canterlot High... and the few evenings where the sunlight was bright enough to pierce the clouds and exhaust and urban haze in order to make that place legitimately beautiful.

It was a stretch, Flash knew, but he was almost capable of injecting the beauty into all of it. For a brief second, it sustained him. But even with all of his earnest, it was just an illusion.

He reopened his eyes to a magical world full of pastel nuance and crystalline majesty. It was all so very real. And—for the moment—it was his.

He was high enough on the sensation to think that he earned it.

That was enough to earn a smile. Not so much any tears. And—to that end—he knew hadn't reached it yet.

So he continued trotting. Lazily and gladly. Closer and closer to the glowing heart of the Empire.

Flash

The last of the city torches had been lit. A warm glow poured down every street and alleyway, glistening off the smooth and glass-like streets and buildings of the Crystal Empire.

Flash had trotted a full ellipse, and by now he was nearly back at the base of the palace. Just a few more blocks and he'd be within spitting distance of the passages leading down into the banquet hall. The advent of night had cooled the air, calming his already tranquil nerves, and he was ready to oversee the preparations again.

Nevertheless, he took his time, delighting in every sound he heard... every pleasant conversation he chanced upon... every laughing voice that tickled his ears.

A rattling noise filled the torch-lit air. Flash Sentry glanced to his right, spotting a trio of stagecoaches rolling in from the northeast. They bore banners representing distant provinces of Equestria—no doubt—and were heading towards the hotel district behind him. The stallions pulling the vehicles were evidently not local, and Flash momentarily worried that they were going a bit too fast for that part of the city.

His fears were realized when the three stagecoaches rounded the next corner. The stallions drawing the last vehicle of the caravan slipped on the glossy, polished road.

"Ooomf!" one stumbled.

"Guh!" the other slid on his fetlocks.

Wh-Whump! The weight of the stagecoach drew it forward and it bumped into the flanks of the two stallions. While it didn't injure the two ponies, the heavy vehicle hadn't finished shifting. With a loud wooden groan, it teetered towards its side, half-a-second away from collapsing.

"Look out!" a crystal pony across the street shouted.

"It's gonna fall—!"

Flash Sentry gnashed his teeth. His wings shot out and he bolted forward in a golden blur. FWOOOSH!

He threw his agile body straight for the collapsing wagon. As he did so, his peripheral vision caught a golden blur sailing in at a forty-five degree angle.

"I got it!" two male voices formed a chorus.

Thwump!

Flash Sentry braced his back against the wagon, holding it in place. He wasn't alone. Another stallion had joined him, his strong body garbed in silver-blue armor.

"Hold... hold..."

"You got it...?"

"Mrmmfff... yeah..."

"Easy... easy..."

Pacing themselves, Flash and the other good samaritan pushed the wagon back until it balanced evenly on its wheels. The crisis had been averted, and breaths of relief echoed from both sides of the street. Sweating visibly, the ponies who had been drawing the stagecoach stood up and unhitched themselves from the reins to examine the situation.

"Hah..." Flash Sentry swiped his brow, smiling as he panted. "That... was a close one..."

"Thank you citizen," the guard beside him spoke in a serious tone—a practiced voice. "I could have handled it on my own, but I very much appreciate the assist—" He froze as he looked at Flash.

Flash's ocean blue eyes blinked.

The guard's ocean blue eyes blinked.

Flash's muzzle opened slightly. He knew this because he saw the dumbfounded expression in the sheen of the guard's armor. A blue mane'd reflection squirmed nervously. As Flash backed up, he saw the blue mane'd guard gaping back at him... eyes narrow and scrutinous. With each inch that Flash pushed between them, the stallion appeared more and more tense. At last, he held a yellow-orange hoof up—as if to stop the teenager—

Creaakk!

The door to the stagecoah flung open between them. A distressed mare in a flouncey Canterlot dress stumbled out, sobbing. "Oh! Oh my Celestia!" She clung to the nearest pony she could find—the guard. "I positively thought I was going to die!"

"Uhh... n-no, ma'am. You're..." The guard grimaced, struggling to placate her. "You're safe. There's nothing to..." His eyes darted towards Flash again. "...fear."

"I almost broke my neck! Did a wheel break off?! We're not under attack by those dreadful Yaks, are we?!"

"No, ma'am. Not at all, ma'am..." The guard's voice grew fainter and fainter—probably because Flash was backtrotting away at a brisk rate. "Just... j-just wait here a second. Please..." The guard gently pushed her into the comforting forelimbs of a gaggle of citizens who had gathered at the scene. A blink later, he had flown in a gold-and-blue streak towards the next block over. From a distance, Flash watched as the guard touched down in front of a thick group of like-armored troops. He saluted, spoke rapidly, then pointed in Flash's direction. A series of helmets flickered in the torchlight, looking his way.

This was the last thing Flash saw, for he had turned tail immediately. With panting breaths, he galloped straight for the Crystal Palace—bumping awkwardly past a few gasping citizens along the way. Numb and panicked, he made for the first entrance to the underground level that he could find.

Sorry

Loud hoofsteps clopped and echoed across the lengths of the crystalline banquet hall.

Lyra and Octavia looked up from the music sheet they were scribbling on. Vinyl Scratch lowered her headphones and craned her neck from behind a DJ Booth. Orchestra ponies, decorators, and caterers paused what they were doing.

A lone stallion moved awkwardly down the center of the hall, stuck between a gallop and a trot. Flash's features were pale, and there was noticeable sweat clinging to his wingfeathers.

The ponies exchanged curious glances.

Lyra was the first to stand up straight and call out to him: "Uhhh... Brad? Is everything alright?"

"H-Heyyyyyy!" Flash faced her in mid-step with a cheekish grin. "Miss Heartstrings as I live and breathe!" He chuckled... panted... and chuckled. "Movin' on up to a deluxe soundbooth in the sky, huh?!"

"Uhhhh... I guess—?"

"Cool! Very cool! Everything's so... coolio." Flash gulped, not breaking his stride as he shuffled past the orchestra stand. "Keep working on those covers I taught you! Although... you might wanna skip 'When the Body Speaks'. Wrong sort of crowd."

"But..." Octavia squinted at the music sheets. "...you gave us no such song..."

Flash trotted backwards, pointing. "Remind me to teach you Depeche Mode someday!" He bumped into a table, knocking silverware and brass platters to the ground with a loud crash. "Wuh-oh! Wish I had a million dollars! Hot dog!!!" And he ducked swiftly into an adjoining corridor, causing pony heads to turn.

Vinyl trotted across the stage until she stood with Lyra and Octavia. Together, the three mares shared worried looks.

In the meantime...

...Flash huffed and puffed his way down the narrow hallways, squeezing past waiters and waitresses carrying full platters atop their fuzzy pony heads. At long last, he entered the noisy, steamy confines of the royal kitchen. Pots were boiling. Kettles were whistling. Dishes were frothing with sudsy water.

Limping at this point, Flash carried his numb self past a table full of half-treated desserts. Bon Bon looked over from where she was adding creamy dollops to a sheet full of cookies.

"Hey! Brad!" She grinned ecstatically. "I'm so glad to see you!" She gestured at her hoofwork. "Come! I want you to have the honors of being my first taste tester!"

"Tester...?" Flash wheezed, trotting into a corner. At long last, he had nowhere left to go, and so he shifted left and right like a caged possum. "I hardly even know her! Heeeheeeheeehee!"

Bon Bon blinked. "...Uhhh..."

"You know what tastes g-good?" Flash gulped dryling, his eyes tracing every panel and vent in the kitchen's ceiling. "Dole Whip floats. The kind they serve at Disney World. I mean... sure they're overpriced and they play torture games with your sinuses for an hour afterwards... but it could be worse! You could be living in Somalia! Or in space—courtesy of Russia! Wow... so many unsung Cosmonauts. And yet the entire world is fluffing America for making it to the moon first...!"

Bon Bon's muzzle scrunched. She looked across the kitchen.

Mr. and Mrs. Cake stood beside a towering dessert tray, and they too were gawking at Flash. It was Carrot Cake who took the first bold steps towards the teenager. "Uhm... Brad?" He smiled nervously. "Are you doing alright, son?"

"Goldeneye... on the N64. Ever played that game?" Flash flashed a maniacal smile as he gestured with his hooves. "Once you get past the frickin' weird Dadaist controller—it's pretty fun. Although it's not dated well. There's this legendary island—you see—in the Dam Level, across a lake. But you can never just get to it. For years and years, people on the Internet speculated what might be there... until... until..." He panted and paced, panted and paced. "...some bored kid with an emulator no-clipped to the place and found..." He scuffled to a stop, struggling to catch his breath. "Nothing. Absolutely... nothing..." The edge of his muzzle curled as he stared miles through the tile floor. "Heh... heheheheh..." He looked up at the ponies again with a tussled mane. "Sometimes the hype is far better than the prestige."

Carrot Cake merely blinked. Cup Cake shuffled up as a few other ponies looked on in confusion. "Brad... dearie..." She cocked her head to the side. "...did something awful happen?"

"Y'know... people say nice things..." Flash gulped, struggling to catch his breath. "They preach platitudes left and right... all across Twitter... the bulletin boards outside of homeroom... super inspiring quotes and Hindu proverbs and cat poster sermons and... a-and I just can't shake the feeling that—no matter how wonderful technology gets or how magical friendship is or how many Marvel movies they make or how many Israelis and Palestinians end up shaking hands... the world... my world... is still a reality where... wh-where Robin Williams killed himself." Exhaling, he finally... finally sat down. Collapsing on a stool in the corner, facing the steam and eyes and glare of the kitchen lights. Flash looked up with hollow eyes, shivering slightly. "Some things you just can't friggin' outrun... especially yourself." He gulped. He shook. He said, "I'm sorry."

"Sorry?" Cup Cake murmured. "Sorry for what, dear?"

"I'm sorry that..." Flash's teeth grit. "...I couldn't make myself a better person before I came h-here." His ears drooped. "And now I've dumped it all on you." He gulped... shaking his head. "It's not right."

"Brad..." Bon Bon shuffled closer, her face awash with concern. "You've done so much good for us and for the Crystal Empire—"

"It's Flash," he said. A dull tone. "Flash Sentry." He breathed. "And the only good here is you." His eyes swam, wandered. "All of you. It's why I came. I know it now." He choked on the next few words, but finally spat it out: "And I'm g-going to m-miss it."

Bon Bon mouthed those last few words in confusion.

A noise echoed from behind. The ponies in the kitchen pivoted about, hearing the sound of heavily marching hooves and rattling armor.

"Thank you for the banana bread," Flash said.

Half the ponies glanced back at him.

"Even if I didn't eat it right away." Flash managed a smile. "It started all of this... the good parts at least." He then trembled as the first flicker of metal entered the kitchen.

Shining

No less than three dozen guards poured into the steamy interior. They firmly moved the servants and caterers aside, forming a clear space between them and their target in the corner. Glossy helmets reflected the teenager's lone, seated figure.

As they formed a phalanx, a particularly stalwart-looking stallion in ornate armor trotted down the center, flanked by a familiar looking Lieutenant.

Flash Sentry stood up.

The two lead guards came to a stop. The rest brandished polearms and formed an impermeable semi-circle around Flash.

Bon Bon and the Cakes looked on with fear and concern, shivering.

With a flicker of blue telekinesis, the lead guard removed his helmet. Through thin ocean blue eyes, the pale stallion regarded Flash with a steely gaze.

"See?" The pony beside him pointed with a yellow-orange hoof. "I wasn't kidding! It's spot-on—"

"You did well, Lieutenant," the leader said. "Now... step aside, please."

"Y-yes, Captain." The slighter stallion stepped back.

The leader stepped forward, standing tall and resolute. "I am Captain Shining Armor, appointed steward of the Crystal Empire, and acting commander of the Imperial Guard."

Flash gulped. "Well that's just super." He tried to smile.

Shining Armor wasn't amused in the slightest. "Do you know who you are?"

The teenager glanced at the Lieutenant standing behind Shining, then back at the lead guard. "My name is Flash Sentry."

Shining Armor's eyes sharpened. "That is not possible."

"Believe me..." Flash droned. "I think the same thing every day I wake up."

Shining stepped forward. As he did so, the guards crowded in tighter—aiming their polearms at Flash, as if he might leap at them at any moment. "You are beneath the Palace of the Crystal Empire," Shining said. "You are no longer lost in the frozen north... or taking shelter in the hive of your matriarch."

Flash merely blinked.

"Queen Chrysalis is no longer in charge of the changelings," Shining said firmly, annunciating each phrase with bombastic authority. "King Thorax is now supreme ruler. Your kind are no longer bound by the need to thirst on love and emotion. You can be free to be your own individual... your own pony... your own personality."

Flash's eyes darted back and forth. His lips pursed, and he lowered his head as he regarded the guards in a new light. "I... I am not one of these 'changelings' that you speak of..."

Shining Armor merely stared at him.

Flash exhaled. "But I'm not the Flash Sentry you know either. Nor am I from this world." He gulped. "Nevertheless... I will... f-fully comply with whatever it is that you ask me to do." He shook his head. "I'm not going to fight you guys." A crooked smile was aimed in the direction of some of the fairer specimens of the armored guard. "Or girls."

The Lieutenant glanced at the leader.

Shining took a deep breath. "Is that a promise?"

"Yes." Flash nodded. "I will not resist." His brow furrowed. "Now you promise me something."

Shining leaned back, nodding. "Name it."

Flash breathed with relief upon getting such an honorable response. "I... deceived many ponies to get here. None of them knew any better." He shook his head. "Whatever happens... don't take it out on the Ponyvilleans or Wonderbolts or any member of Fancy Pants' brigade. Is that a deal?"

Shining Armor breathed. "I shall see what I can do." And he gestured forward with his hoof.

Several guards advanced on Flash Sentry at once.

"By the authority granted in me by the Crystal Empire, I am hereby putting you under arrest until the nature of your threat to this kingdom and Equestria abraod can be fully ascertained."

The teenager hung his head. There was no sense in expecting anything better than this. He held his hooves out as he felt iron manacles placed around them. Then—with the gentle prods of guards on all sides—he shuffled slowly forward... towards whatever formidable destination the soldiers had in mind.

With more than a little bit of trembling, Bon Bon, Carrot Cake, and Cup Cake looked on... silenced through sheer shock.

Beneath

Noise...

A gentle thudding sound... ...

Something that resembled thunder... a persistent beat... ... ...

Flash Sentry's eyes fluttered open.

He sat up on the cot in the corner of his cell. A series of bright lamps illuminated the small rectangular chamber and the space beyond the bars outside. It wasn't too claustrophobic of a space, and the place where he had to lie down was sufficiently cushioned.

But prison was still prison.

He had lost track of how long he had been in there. At some point—countless hours ago—he had been escorted quietly to this lone spot downstairs. It was beneath the Palace... or perhaps it was beneath the Crystal Empire's police department. There was really no way of telling... nor of caring.

Flash ran his hooves over his face, trying to rub the exhaustion and ennui out of his system. Failing.

The thudding persisted. It was accompanied this time by something else... a gentle percussion of countless voices—shouting, cheering, laughing.

The Celebration.

Flash took a deep breath.

One way or another, it was transpiring after all.

Even if it transpired without him.

That—if nothing else—brought a stab of relief to the bubble that had formed around his spirit.

It wasn't enough to make him smile.

Flash stood up. Trotting slowly across the scant space of his cell, he ran a free hoof across the concrete wall. He delighted in the vibrations that he felt through his fetlock... the inkling of a melodic beat rippling in some unseen distance... bringing mirth and hope to somepony... anypony. He imagined dignitaries from all across Equestria stumbling upon the decorations Derpy Hooves had made, delighting to the music that Lyra, Octavia, and Vinyl were performing, engorging themselves on the treats that Bon Bon and the Cakes had made. Above ground—beyond sight—the world was bouncing... living... fluttering.

It was just as well.

These thoughts sealed the moment with enough purpose, at least. And as the hours limped on—blending together like a stale soup—Flash could almost ignore the fact that he hadn't seen anyone or talked to anyone or been spoken to in the entire space of a day.

It was a sensation he was more than a little bit familiar with. In some haunting fashion, it made him feel more at home down there.

Finally giving into exhaustion, he returned to the cot and lay on his side. He squinted across the gray fuzz of his confines... imagining he was staring at a dull computer monitor across a dust-laden room that hadn't seen sunlight in lifetimes. The fascimile of a teenage boy stared back from the otherworldly sheen, and Flash descended into the sullen distance dwindling between them.

It wasn't sleep that greeted him, but something far duller. He accepted it for what it was worth, and rolled on into far fuzzier thoughts—noble and lonesome.

Nothing

Hoofsteps.

Marching. Earnest.

Flash Sentry's eyes fluttered open. With a bleary expression, he turned and peered off the edge of his cot.

Beyond the bars of his cell, he saw a trio of bodies descend from the stairwell above. They entered the room in the line—two guards and a pegasus.

A very familiar pegasus. Normally, it would have sent a pang of joy rippling across Flash's chest.

For the time being, he struggled to even sit up.

"Finally..." Soarin grumbled from his side of the bars. He stepped forward, looking over his flank. "Could you guys give us some frickin' space, please?"

"We're to be present at all times when the subject is receiving visitors."

"Yeah... but it's not like I'm going to kick the bars down, bust him out, and start a revolution—"

"Sorry, sir. Captain Shining Armor's orders."

"I get it... I get it!" Soarin rolled his eyes at the crystal guards and turned towards the jail cell with a bar. "Yeesh... you guys certainly got the 'Imperial' part down pat."

Flash Sentry shuffled tiredly towards the bars.

Soarin stood on the other side, smiling weakly—but hopefully. "Hey there, dude. How are you holding out?"

"I'm existing," Flash droned.

"... ... ..." Soarin blinked at that. "Yeah... well... that's good, I guess."

Flash nodded, avoiding Soarin's gaze.

"Flash..." Soarin stood closer to the bars. "Please believe me. I wish I could have gotten here sooner. I've been busting my flank over the last twenty hours... just trying to get a chance to come down here and even speak with you."

Flash exhaled. "Yeah."

"The stewards aren't kidding around here," Soarin said. "They think you might be a changeling. I mean... of course you're not... but they've got a security detail prepared for such a thing as this. They call it... 'an amnesiac drone event'... or some such crap. Apparently members of Chrysalis' hive have crawled into the Empire before... forgetting who they are while impersonating whatever pony they see. It's... never really ended well—for the crystal ponies or the changelings. So they're taking every precaution necessary... for your sake as well as their own."

Flash nodded. "Yeah..."

"I've been trying to tell them that you're not a changeling—that this is a whole misunderstanding. But—now that delegates from all over Equestria are visiting at this very moment—they aren't exactly warming up to making exceptions with their security policy. I... I-I've been trying to get Spitfire to appeal to the Stewards on your behalf... on our behalf. But... but she's not exactly that thrilled about the whole thing. She only got done chewing my ear off about the whole 'Brad' schtick about two hours ago, which is how I was finally able to come down here after she talked with Shining and Cadance."

Flash winced. Hard.

"Dude... just... just relax!" Soarin smiled. "I'm used to being chewed out by Spitfire. Besides, she'll get over it. I mean... it's not like anypony actually... truly believes you were actively trying to deceive or harm us." He pointed up at the ceiling; the sounds and vibrations of the celebration were still in effect. "You hear that? That's all happening because of you, bro. I... I wish you could witness it, Flash. It's a golden date in the history of the Crystal Empire, and it's all because you brought the right ponies together at the right time. You..." Soarin sighed. "...you really deserve to be up there... enjoying it with the rest of them. All of this? This is such stupid nonsense."

Flash Sentry exhaled, staring at the floor of the cell. "Yeah... ... ..."

Soarin arched an eyebrow. "Flash...?"

No response.

"Flash... I... I know this all stinks to Tartarus," Soarin spoke firmly. "But I'm not done fighting for you, bro! I'm gonna get you out of here—in time to experience the last day or two of the festivities, if I can help it! The others—Fancy Pants, Filthy Rich, Miss Hooves, the Ponyvilleans... even Prince Blueblood—they'd all be here themselves if it could be afforded. But Spitfire could only allow me to come down here. I... uh... I-I figured that if I told the others to keep busy with the tasks you assigned them, it'd be for the best." Soarin gulped. "They're handling it all beautifully, Flash. You should be proud. Octavia's music... Vinyl's performances... Bon Bon's treats and the Cakes' delicacies..." He smiled. "Even Lyra's harp has pleased the Saddle Arabian visitors... and Miss Hooves' muffins have gotten the Hawkeye Pack drooling like there's no..." His voice trailed off as his lips pursed in concern. "...there's n-no tomorrow..."

"... ... ..." Flash stared lethargically into the corners of the cell.

Soarin gulped. "Do... do you have anything to say, dude? How are they treating you down here? I mean... I was told they brought you food but... but..."

Flash was silent.

Soarin blinked. "Really? Nothing?" He arched an eyebrow. "No quip? No silly non sequitur from the human world?" His eyes searched around, and he brightened at the last second. "Space Trek!" He grinned. "That's the thing you're always quoting from, right? Why don't you say something silly from Space Trek!"

Flash sighed. "That was Brad, dude." Dull eyes swam through the bars, contacting Soarin's. "This is Flash... the real Flash Sentry. You don't know him. Nopony does... because nopony has had to."

Soarin stared at him.

Flash stared back. "Even after all this time... I guess I still have you deceived."

Soarin took a breath. He leaned forward, gripping the bars with his fetlocks. "Well, maybe I wanna save Flash Sentry too."

"Hooves off the bars, please, sir," one of the crystal guards said.

Soarin's muzzle clenched, as if he was cursing under his breath. Begrudgingly, he leaned back from the cell.

"Just... just do whatever, Soarin," Flash muttered. He shuffled heavily back towards the cot. "Probably for the best that you tell them that I am a changeling," he said, lying down and facing the wall. "I've caused you enough problems, dude. Don't need more than Spitfire chewing you out."

"Flash... don't... d-don't you realize all the things you've done here?"

Flash breathed. "I know nothing," he said. "And it's all the same as it ever was." He stared and stared into the thick wall, ignoring Soarin's presence...

...until Soarin's hoofsteps receded in the background, and he became as distant as Flash wanted.

A deep pit formed in Flash's stomach. He clenched his eyes shut and covered his muzzle with his forelimbs...

He laid there in silence, waiting for the noise of celebration to fade away... like the shouts of angry parents through the walls.

Reflect

Some time had passed.

If it weren't for the torchlights, Flash would probably have gone to sleep to experience the monotony less. Such was a lie and he knew it.

The noise of the celebration continued, haunting... taunting...

His head conjured up a million glittering images—of royal dignitaries in elegant finery enjoying the music of Octavia, Lyra, and Vinyl. She imagined Bon Bon passing trays of candy around from table to table, fraternizing with ambassadors from all over the equine globe. He imagined the smiles of Mr and Mrs Cake as they told tall tales of Ponyville while serving pie slices to visiting strangers. Last but not least, she imagined Soarin's dashing smile and Derpy's giggling voice... and just how heavenly those two disparate things felt when cocooned warmly within the same room.

Flash shivered. Just as he couldn't bear to imagine those things anymore...

...he heard hoofsteps again. Dozens of them. They were marching down the steps faster than ever.

His heart fluttered—only slightly—but he chose to ignore it. Just as he chose to ignore the voices beyond the cell bars at first. Ponies were mumbling with one another—even arguing in hoarse tones. At long last, a familiar voice cleared its throat and called out to him:

"You there," Shining Armor's unmistakable tone echoed. "Stand up and face us."

"You mean he doesn't have a name?" complained a curiously nasal, somewhat effeminate voice.

Wincing to himself, Flash reluctantly sat up. He swiveled off the bed, plodded down on four weak hooves, and shuffled towards the bars.

What he saw standing on the other side nearly threw him back onto his flank.

Shining Armor was there—as was a contingent of armored crystal guards. However, standing betwixt them was something that resembled a mutant cross between a moose and a stag beetle. The creature possessed lime-green chitinous flesh that sparkled in the torchlight and turned to darker neon shades of emerald across his belly. Dragonfly wings flared out from his side and a matching fibrous tail glistened translucently. To compliment all of this absurdity was a trio of horns—one green stub and two enormous orange things that nearly scraped the ceiling.

Flash was too busy trying to comprehend all of this that he barely noticed the conversation going on.

"From what we've learned, he's taken on the name of 'Brad' for some reason," Shining Armor said, regarding the jailed pegasus with an aloof expression. "Although Soarin of the Wonderbolts insists that he goes by 'Flash Sentry.'"

"The same as your Lieutenant of the guard?"

"Precisely. Maybe now you'll understand why we've brought you here, Your Highness." Shining Armor bowed slightly. "I'm so sorry that we had to interrupt your meeting with the Griffonstone representatives—"

"I only wish you had interrupted me sooner!" the insectoid creature said in a dramatic tone. "He's been down here this entire time?"

"Yes. He was escorted here the day before the festivities."

"At least tell me you've tried feeding him!"

"We... have brought him rations," Shining said. He looked towards a guard who nodded. "On at least four occasions. He... hasn't eaten anything. But if he's one of yours—"

"He's not one of mine," the creature declared, his compound eyes reflecting Flash's lonesome figure.

Shining's eyes narrowed beneath his helmet. "You're... you're sure of this, Thorax—?!"

"Of course I'm sure!" The creature reeled about with a chitinous frown. "And even if he was—I evidently have reason to be concerned! After all, if this is how you treat those you suspect to be my brothers and sisters of the hive, then I assure you I... I..." Thorax squirmed in place before finally finding the strength to slap a green hoof down. "...I'm certifiably peeved."

Gasps lit the room.

Half of the guards shifted in their armor.

Shining Armor cleared his throat. "I assure you, Your Highness, we did not mean to offend you."

"You... you think I'm offended?" Thorax briefly smiled. "R-really?! I-I mean..." He stood tall, the tips of his horns burning with an emerald fire. "Of course I am offended! Why... I-I have a good mind to send Pharynx here and teach you a thing or two about proper security protocol!"

"I understand why you are upset, Thorax, but we have these precautions in place for a reason," Shining spoke. "With all of the representatives converging on one spot—it would be perfect timing for Chrysalis to send loyal drones here to conduct something nefarious—"

"He is not a nefarious pony," spoke a feminine voice from above.

The guards rattled at attention.

Thorax and Shining stepped apart...

...and Flash Sentry watched as a pink... pink... pink pony trotted daintily down the stairwell, flanked by finely-dressed servants. She bore a tiara and bore a resolute expression that was both pleasant and serious all at once. When she spoke, it was like a Disney song was about to break out at any moment.

"He is indeed Flash Sentry... but not our Flash Sentry."

"Cadance," Shining spoke in a softer tone, approaching the regal mare. "I thought you said you'd be attending the Royal Sisters during the Celebration. Go back up, dear. We've got this under control—"

"Not anymore, my love," Cadance said, caressing Shining's chin briefly. "Princess Luna sent me to release him from his cell. He's the pony your sister's been looking for."

"Twily?" Shining blinked. "She's been looking for... for... him?"

"Princess Cadance..." Thorax bowed slightly. "...it would seem that your husband still believes that this is one of my kind."

"He isn't a changeling," Cadance remarked, shaking her head as she approached the cell. "A changeling—especially a lost one—feeds on love. But this soul... well..." She scuffled to a stop, giving Flash a sad look that pierced straight to his teenaged heart. "...he reflects it. Doesn't he?"

Cadance

With a metallic clatter, the bars to the cell rolled open. In the ensuing echo, Flash Sentry sat on his cot, blinking out at the rest of the room.

Guards stepped back from the doorframe while Shining Armor took a breath. "Well, you heard Princess Cadance. You are no longer to be imprisoned here."

Flash Sentry looked at him... then at the doorframe.

Shining Armor spoke, "Of course... in the name of standard protocol... I will have to assign guards to you for the duration of your stay. But so long as you've been pardoned by the Royal Sisters, you are free to go about the public premises of the Crystal Empire."

Flash exhaled slowly. He gazed down at the stone floor.

Shining's eyes narrowed. "Do you not understand? You are free... with the fullest liberty that this nation can extend."

Princess Cadance glanced at her husband, then at the lone stallion in the cell. "Shining... leave with your guards," she said. "I'll make sure that he's properly escorted to speak with the other Princesses."

Flash bit his lip, his body tensing.

Shining gaped at his spouse. "Princess... Cadance..." His voice lowered, filled with intimate concern. "You know that I can't do that."

"But of course you can." She drifted over gracefully and nuzzled him. "Don't underestimate my own strength, Shining. I've taken on worse monsters in this world than lost, woesome teenagers."

Shining sighed defeatedly. The trailing hint of a smile crossed his features. "I'll try to remember that fifteen years from now with Flurry Heart."

"You had better." Her brow furrowed above a pink smirk. "She's going to be your hoof-full when the time comes. I'll have done my duty."

"I don't remember agreeing to that exchange."

"You did when you married me. You just didn't know it at the time." She kissed his cheek in front of the guards and urged him on his way with an alicorn wing. "Now go above ground. You're needed at the celebration, overlooking everypony."

"Yes, your highness." He slapped his helmet on. "But I'll still leave a contingent outside the brig. Should you need anything at all..."

"I'll know who to turn to, dear."

Shining Armor bowed, then turned towards Thorax. "Your Highness. May I have the honor of escorting you back to the Banquet Hall?"

The multicolored specimen squirmed suddenly. "Oh! Oh yes... but of c-course, Captain." Thorax's horns and wings twinkled with a warm color as he smiled a chitinous smile. "Sorry. You two are just too cute."

Shining stifled a growl as he marched upstairs with his entourage. "Right this way, Your Majesty..."

Soon the guard, their leader, and the neon-colored moose bug were all gone.

It was just the pink princess pony and the young stallion remaining.

She trotted towards him, and instantly the cell smelled of perfume.

"So... you really are 'Flash Sentry.'"

Flash nodded. He didn't say a word.

Cadance found a stool across from him and sat daintily on the un-regal furniture. "We have a Flash Sentry too, y'know. But—from what I understand—you already met him."

Flash nodded again, slowly this time.

"He was only doing his job by alerting the guard to your presence," Cadance said. "I know that sounds like an awfully predictable excuse: 'He was only doing his job.' But you must understand, the Crystal Empire has been through so much. Between the ghost of Sombra, the saber-rattling of the Yakyakistanians, and the ever-lingering threat of Chrysalis' drones... we've been alone out here against the elements. But now that we're being unified with the Equestrian Union, a lot of that should change. My husband Shining is partly to thank for that." She smiled. "And—now—so are you."

The teenager kept avoiding her gaze.

"I am... very sorry that you've been placed in this position, Flash," Cadance said. "To be honest, it goes beyond 'standard security protocol.' I love my Shining Armor... but sometimes he's far too protective—both of me and the Empire. I guess you could say that we... have a sour history when it comes to dealing with Chrysalis and her changelings. And now that our beloved daughter—Flurry Heart—is in our lives... well... neither of us want to take any chances. Your arrival here was quite startling, and unfortunately the one to suffer from our panic and confusion was you."

Flash shrugged. Finally, he spoke: "I'm okay."

"With what?" Cadance arched an eyebrow. "With suffering? No creature deserves that—pony or otherwise."

He breathed out the side of his muzzle. "You wouldn't know."

"I suspect you find ponies to be magical, happy beings," Cadance said in a gentle tone. "But make no mistake, Flash Sentry. We can suffer. And we have." A quiet breath. "I have."

He cringed, rubbing one shoulder with the other hoof. "I'm sorry..."

"You are sorry, aren't you?" She cocked her head to the side. "It pains me to think that nothing else brought you to this point."

He bit his lip.

"I know you're wanting to ask me something," she said. "Don't hesitate. That's what I'm here for."

His eyes darted up, fragile and blue. "The other Flash Sentry... the pony one..."

"Yes? What about him?"

"Do you know him?"

"Hmmmm..." She smiled warmly. "As a matter of fact, I do. In a manner of speaking, he's akin to Shining Armor's protege. He was brought over from Canterlot specifically for this post."

Flash exhaled, shuddering. "Is he happy?"

Cadance dwelled on that for a bit. Leaning back, she brushed her mane back and spoke eloquently: "He's a very serious pony. But he wasn't always. His youthful, jovial veneer made him difficult to train under his previous mentors. But Shining Armor saw through all of that and beheld potential. I'd say he's becoming a very capable soldier under my husband's guidance. Still..." She smiled slightly. "...he's adorable in his own way. Some things you simply can't strip away."

Flash simply nodded at that. His eyes trailed away.

Cadance squinted knowingly at him. "Curious. Is there another Cadance where you're from?"

"Yeah." Flash huffed. "She's a guidance counselor to a preparatory school full of stuck-up blowhards." He fidgeted. "Or at least she was. Either way..." His eyes darted back to her. "I totally see where this conversation is going."

"Is that why you won't trot out of this cell?"

He was silent.

"From what I understand—from what the Second-in-Command of the Wonderbolts has implied—you've come to Equestria to do many wonderous... fearless things. But 'fearlessness' is a matter of perspective, isn't it?"

"I never figured out what your 'husband' does in my world," Flash mused. "He's probably an ex-football player who substitutes for sex ed class while making out with pigskin."

"Evasiveness is definitely a teenage trait," Cadance said. "But to go on an entire adventure for the sake of it?" Her lips pursed. "What are you truly afraid of, Flash?"

He hugged himself, avoiding her gaze again. "I know where you're planning on taking me, Your Highness. And... and if it was just Luna and Celestia, that'd be fine... but..."

"You still feel for her," Cadance stated.

"No." Flash's teeth showed. The hint of a scowl. "I don't."

"Is that a fact?"

A pink hoof caressed Flash's cheek.

He gasped, his ears instantly drooping.

Somehow, Cadance had crossed the distance between them in a blink. She stood graciously before the stallion, her horn glowing as she felt the curve of his muzzle and chin.

"Ah. Now I see." She breathed calmly. "The hearth is long gone, but the fire remains. It doesn't burn for her or for yourself or anypony. It just... blazes... and consumes."

He gazed up at her, shivering slightly.

Her next expression was a sad one. "Who would think so lowly of oneself to allow such scalding...?"

Radiance

Gently—somewhat uncertain of how assertively to commit to the gesture—Flash Sentry reached up and moved Princess Cadance's hoof from his muzzle.

"I never asked for any of this," he said.

"Any of what?" she asked in a quiet tone.

He fumed slightly. "For Princess Celestia's pupil to cross the portal, come into my life, and shove it straight down the wood chipper." He clenched his teeth. "Then for Celestia's second pupil to waltz in and confuse the Hell out of all the lingering pieces laid to bare."

Cadance simply nodded.

Flash leaned back, his ears folding. "How... how much do you know?" His voice fluttered between something vulnerable and yearning. "How much did she tell you?"

"I knew about Princess Twilight's first venture through the portal because I was there. I witnessed her enter... and I was there when she finally emerged." Her eyes lit up with the recollection. "The moment she returned to Equestria, I knew that something was... different about her."

Flash Sentry shuddered. His gaze fell like a loose ball to the floor.

"You must understand—I've known Twilight Sparkle all her life. She was just a little filly when I first saw her. In fact, I used to foalsit for her on many an occasion. I watched with sisterly pride as she grew up into a remarkable young mare. After marrying her brother, I'm proud to have joined her family. And yet—in all the time I've known her—I had never seen her radiate with as much love as I had anticipated from her youth. It didn't happen during her teenage years... and it didn't happen after she moved to Ponyville. Oh, she found love there, for certain. The same sort of love and trust that blossoms in an undying friendship. But true love? Love that ignites the core... that excites every corner of the equine being...?"

Hesitantly, Flash raised his eyes like a sad puppy's.

"She came out of that portal a changed mare. She had found something that gave her a new light... a new radiance. Others could scarcely see it through her dutiful exterior and serious veneer... but it was not lost to me. I was positively blinded by the fire inside my precious little Twilight... and I couldn't have been happier."

Flash swallowed a lump down his throat. His next words were given delicately, woundedly. "What h-happened to it?"

Cadance took a deep breath. Leaning back, she softly said, "More than anything in life, I believe in the power of love. For that sake, I mustn't be dishonest and deny how fleeting it can be. The brightest fires fizzle and die if they are not kindled... preserved... fueled. Twilight is no stranger to refusing the beauty of that which is right in front of her. But she's also a very different pony than you and me... with burdens and responsibilities that neither of us can come close to imagining."

"She... was too important for... for what we had..." Flash Sentry gulped. "For what we c-could have had..."

Cadance slowly shook her fair head. "I do not know why Twilight Sparkle allowed the light within her to dwindle. For that reason, I am not the pony who can tell you the truth." Her gaze hardened. "But somepony can tell you, Flash Sentry. And—more than anypony—you deserve to cross that thresshold a changed soul as well."

"I... I'm not sure I'm ready to ch-change," Flash murmured.

"Mmmm... a sentiment we have all shared at one point or another." She smiled gently at him. "Loneliness... sadness... dejection... they all become comfy, warm blankets after we've slept in them long enough. But at some point we must step out and face the day if we are to accomplish anything."

"I'm... not good at accomplishing things."

"Then why did you bother stepping through the mirror to begin with?"

"... ... ..."

"Princess Twilight is hardly the only one with an important mission kiting her between worlds," Princess Cadance said. "No soul—no matter how solitary or small—is any more or less important than the rest that this universe has to offer." She rested a hoof on his shoulder. "Stepping through the mirror was bold, Flash Sentry, but it wasn't your bravest step yet. There's someone waiting to be saved, and the first step towards that is waiting for you right now."

Flash stifled a whimper. His voice wavered, "I-I'm not sure I'm ready..."

"I know." Cadance smiled. "That is why I shall help you."

Symmetry

Outside the security barracks in the heart of the Crystal Empire...

...night had fallen. The glossy streets of the kingdom were filled to the brim with ponies from all trots of life. Locals and visitors mingled merrily in alleyways and courtyards. Meanwhile, fireworks occasionally boomed overhead, their flaring colors reflecting off the buildings and streets of the shiny maretropolis. Between the colored lights streetside, the aura twinkling high in the sky, and the sparklers being carried by giddy children, the place positively rippled with otherworldly enchantment.

This was the sort of scene that Flash Sentry greeted as he emerged from the lower reaches of the facility. He scuffled to a stop, hanging behind Princess Cadance for a moment as he gaped at all of the sights and colors. His heart fluttered—if only briefly—as part of him acknowledged that he himself was partially responsible for this beauty.

Or perhaps wholely responsible...

"Flash Sentry..." Cadance gently chided.

Flash winced. He scampered forward, joining her side. The royal steward was facing a quartet of guards stationed just outside the entrance to the barracks. Flash's heart sank as he recognized one of them.

"Lieutenant..." Cadance addressed him.

The stallion in question blinked. He shuffled forward, his helmeted eyes locked on Flash the entire time.

"Lieutenant," Cadance repeated.

"Ahem." The winged stallion stood tall and saluted the princess. "Yes, Your Majesty!"

"The Royal Sisters and Princess Twilight are currently commiserating inside the throneroom of the Crystal Palace."

"Indeed they are." The lieutenant's eyes wandered over towards Flash yet again. "I take it that... this pony is to be escorted to the throneroom so that they can speak to him?"

"Affirmative. Please bring him there. You and your fellow soldiers. Make sure that he goes nowhere else." She turned to give Flash Sentry a knowing glance. "Not that there'll be any trouble. He... won't be flying off to any random destination, now, will he?"

Flash gulped. He nodded nervously, encumbered by this forced intervention.

Princess Cadance smiled. When she heard nothing but silence beneath the festivities, she turned towards the guard in front of her. "Is there a problem, Lieutenant?"

"Well..." He fidgeted in his armor. "Your Majesty..." He winced slightly. "Permission to speak openly?"

"Of course, Flash." She giggled. "I am not your Captain."

He exhaled heavily. "Perhaps... it would be more appropriate for another contingent of guards to escort... e-escort this stallion?" He looked nervously at Flash. "After all... he's... that is to say I—"

"Just don't put your helmet on him and I suspect everything will be golden." Cadance winked. "Is that understood?"

The lieutenant took a deep breath, standing tall once more. "Yes, Your Majesty. I shall escort him as ordered, Your Majesty."

She reached out and ruffled his mane coming out the back of his headpiece. "I knew I could count on you. Please keep him in your sights at all time. As for me, I must go and check on the banquet hall. Poor King Thorax looked quite frazzled earlier. A gentle soul like that needs someone to vent with."

"Understood, Your Majesty."

Princess Cadance began trotting off, accompanied by a second group of guards. At one point, she stopped. "Oh... and by the way..." She smiled back. "...take your time. There's no hurry. This would be a good opportunity for the two of you to get to know each other."

Two yellow-orange stallions bit their lips in perfect synchronization.

"So long!" And with a flick of her pretty tail, Cadance made a graceful exit.

Sentry

The whole of the Crystal Empire burned alive with color and mirth. The city streets sparkled around Flash Sentry and Flash Sentry, as if celebrating the humble parade of these two like-bodied individuals. The two trotted side by side, passing beneath bright flowery bursts of fireworks and flickering lamplights of purple, orange, and blue.

The teenager stared down at his hooves. He saw his own reflection in the immaculately smooth surface of the street, and beyond that the fireworks, the aurora, and the stars of a magical night's sky. At long last, he wrenched his eyes off the otherworldly mosaic to glance at his helmeted doppelganger.

The lieutenant stared forward, stoic and stalwart. Despite Cadance's insistance, the march of the guards escorting Flash to the Crystal Palace was swift and steady. Even as ponies hollered and laughed and relished in the festivities all around them, the security team moved forward as if it was a simple spring afternoon.

Flash Sentry gazed aside. He looked at families gathered at street corners with their children. Crystal ponies and Equestrian strangers alike chatted openly with one another, sharing stories and culture and enthusiasm. Flash saw ponies of different sizes, coat colors, and manestyles. He even saw a few equine creatures that were larger or smaller than the ponies he was used to. Some creatures with big ears—Flash judged were either donkeys or mules... he could never figure out the difference between those two terms. He saw a group of what had to be zebras... and then other taller, more horse-like specimens. At some point, he caught something out of the corner of his eye that startled him. Something with feathers, a beak, and feline hindquarters. Flash scoured his own mind for a name, but all he could come up with was a diarrheic assortment of CGI effects from various Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings movies...

"Stick to the center of the street, please," he heard his own voice say, cold and authoritative.

"Oh... uh..." Flash Sentry trotted closer to the lieutenant. "Sorry."

"Do not approach any buildings or structures unless you are instructed to do so," the lieutenant continued, not looking at him.

"Yeah. You got it." Flash gulped, then looked at his double.

He saw his own pony expression reflected in the golden armor.

"Heh..." Flash smiled. "Pretty boss outfit, dude," he attempted.

The lieutenant's jaw clenched, but he said nothing.

Flash blinked. "... ... ...did you polish it yourself?"

A sharp breath, and at first Flash thought his other would remain silent. Eventually, the words were produced: "As a matter of fact, I did."

"Bet you're really proud to be wearing that."

"It is my honor to protect and serve both the stewards of the Crystal Empire as well as Equestrian sovereignty abroad," the lieutenant said. "Pride naturally comes with such duty."

"Oh. No doubt. You've won the Princess' respect. So that must mean you're doing pretty a-okay."

Once again, the lieutenant was silent.

"Do... do you mind that I talk?" Flash asked.

The lieutenant exhaled. "It does not matter if you are silent or not."

"Sure. I feel ya." Flash looked forward again. "I never had any sweet armor. But I did have a pretty awesome sports car."

The lieutenant raised an eyebrow, although he didn't look at the stallion he was escorting.

"And... and I waxed the Hell out of that thing. Spent my monthly savings on making that car look as gorgeous and sparkling clean as possible." He breathed meditatively beneath the fireworks and noise of the celebration. "But... I didn't have anything to be proud about with that car. Not really. I wasn't using it to save people or protect any empires. I just... owned it to make myself look cooler. I was wasting money in order to... t-to be something I really wasn't." He blew out the side of his muzzle and gazed at the crystalline streets. "Only made sense that I eventually sold it. But... I still haven't done anything with the money. I should be using it for college tuition... but I haven't even chosen a college to go to." His ears drooped. "So... yeah... it must be really... really awesome to believe in something." He swallowed. "If I believed in half the stuff that you do... then perhaps I'd be doing something cool on my side of the mirror too."

The group marched along, silent beneath the bedlam of festive euphoria.

"From what I was briefed by the Captain," the Lieutenant suddenly spoke. "I've learned that you are greatly responsible for the celebrations taking place—and the arrangement thereof."

Flash's ears perked up. Blinking, he turned to look at his escort. "Uhhhh... yeah. I guess you could say that."

"It is more than mere rumor. The second-in-command of the Wonderbolts confirms that it is an actual fact." The lieutenant breathed. "Unification between the Crystal Empire and the Equestrian Union has been the highest goal that the stewards have ever hoped to achieve. And I live to serve and protect them as they aspire to their goals." He cocked his head aside with a slight shrug. "In a way... you have done more for those I've pledged myself to in a few days than I myself have accomplished in an entire career."

Flash fidgeted in mid-step. "Bro... I didn't mean to rain on your parade."

"Nothing of the sort." And for the first time since they left the barracks, the lieutenant made eye contact with the teenager. "Simply stating that you do—indeed—have something to be proud of."

Flash blinked. Eventually he smiled. "Too bad I can't look nearly as badass as you in the process."

Something crossed the lieutenant's muzzle—something resembling a smirk.

And—without their knowing it—the pace of their march had finally begun to slow...

Butterflies

"So..." Flash Sentry tongued the inside of his muzzle. "...you know the stewards of the Crystal Empire personally, huh?"

The lieutenant's features darkened in the absence of starlight. The security procession had passed under the four-legged foundation of the Empire's massive Crystal Palace. Their pace had slowed, but the group was nevertheless heading towards an open stairwell at one of the four corners of the regal structure. Another group of guards stood there at the ready, adding extra security to the city's landmark in lieu of so many visitors.

"I am honored to serve the Prince and Princess in this time of great transition," the lieutenant eventually answered. "Prior to this post, I served with the Captain of the Guard in Canterlot."

"And he transferred you here with him, huh?"

The helmeted stallion nodded. "That is correct."

Flash squinted in mid-trot. "What was his name again? Shindig? Shinzon? Shinobi—?"

The lieutenant's features tightened slightly. "The name of my superior is Captain Shining Armor."

"Hah! Of course..." Flash smirked. "I guess 'Prince Charming' was taken."

The guard glanced aside, eyes narrowing. "Is that meant to be a joke?"

Flash paled ever so slightly. His ears folded back. "I... I'm sorry." He cleared his throat. "I meant no offense..."

The lieutenant took a deep breath. "I am not offended." He looked forward as they slowly walked. "I too used to be prone to cracking jokes... making mischief..."

"Oh yeah?"

"As a matter of fact..." The guard's eyes grazed the crystal floor beneath them as they passed a glittering pedestal. "I was forced to work two weeks of double-duty for making a wisecrack at the Princess of Friendship long ago... during my first month of being stationed here."

"Really?" Flash blinked at a levitating, glowing "heart" made out of polished stone that hovered above the pedestal as they passed. "What the Hell did you do?"

"I... bumped into her Royal Highness twice..." The lieutenant fidgeted in mid-step. "Completely by accident, I assure you. But... I-I made light of it on the second occasion. Another guard overheard me. I was reported to my superior officer, and Captain Shining Armor was quick to give me a stern lecture."

"That... sounds kinda harsh to me."

"The Captain is perfectly within his right," the guard said. "Considering the Princess of Friendship is his younger sister, his concern is more than warranted."

"Yeah—wait." Flash's eyes narrowed on the guard. "Princess Twilight Sparkle is Shining Armor's sister?!"

"Affirmative." The lieutenant glanced over. "Were you not aware of this?"

Flash Sentry's eyes momentarily lost themselves in the twinkle and glamour of that city. His mind wandered back to the Friendship Games... and the days at Canterlot High School immediately following such a calamitous event. He remembered seeing a certain bashful teenage girl with glasses—or more appropriately he remembered trying to avoid eye contact with a certain bashful teenage girl with glasses. She was new to the school, and the Dean from Crystal Prep was there by her side for the first few days. There was someone else present too... a tall young man with pale skin and dashing electric blue hair...

"Whoah..." Flash's eyes crossed. "'Crystal Preparatory Academy!'" He gawked at the belly of the Crystal Palace looming overhead. "I just now get it!" A goofy wheeze. "Yeesh... does it not get any weirder?"

The lieutenant blinked at him. "I beg your pardon?"

"Erm... forget it." Flash caught up with his escort. "Sorry you had to lose your silly side, bro."

The guard shrugged in his armor. "I am far better for it."

"I feel you." Flash clenched his jaws. He fought the urge to ask, but the question came out anyways: "Did... did the Princess of Friendship ever... I dunno... talk to you at all following that one week you two met?"

"No. She did not." The guard glanced back at him. "Why do you ask?"

Flash sighed... he sighed long and hard. "Just curious. That's all."

"... ... ..." The guard looked ahead. They were approaching the entrance to the Palace, but his features slouched slightly... as if he was suddenly regretting it. When he next spoke, it was in a noticeably breathy tone. "Would it be... alright if I was to ask you a question?"

Flash Sentry perked up. He looked at him. "Sure! Sure thing!" He nodded. "Ask away, dude."

"... ... ..."

Flash raised an eyebrow. "It's that embarrassing, huh?"

"Not... quite." Finally, with a courageous breath, the guard asked: "How are your parents?"

"Huh?"

"Mother and father," the lieutenant spoke firmly. "How are they doing these days?"

Flash felt a pit form in his stomach. The seconds ticked away, and he knew that he was delaying his answer. He brought a hoof up and ruffled his own blue mane, shrugging between each step. "Oh... they're uhm..." He coughed. "They're d-doing very well at their jobs! Y'know! Just... hammering away. Earning the dollars... or bits, in your case. I... uh..." He perked up. "Oh! Dad's finished bingeing Game of Thrones! He's been... he's been falling behind on that, I guess. I mean... I think he has..." Flash was grimacing at this point. He sought a way to salvage the awkward conversation. "I mean... if you wanna know the truth, dude... I-I really don't hang out with them that much. But... they're keeping true to their careers and they appear to be... uhm... relaxed most of the time. So... so there's that, I guess."

It wasn't until then that Flash noticed a slight tremble rolling through the guard's body. "So... they are alive, then?" he asked in a sober tone.

"What? Why, of course! Why wouldn't th—?" Flash's pupils shrank. His blood ran cold as he looked at the lieutenant... who had stopped in his tracks entirely. His mouth dried as he fumbled for the delicate words: "What... what happened to them?" He gulped. "Mom and Dad. Are they...?"

The lieutenant regained his strength, standing tall and resolute as he matter-of-factly stated: "Perished at the jaws of timberwolves when we... when I was only eight years old. That..." A sideways sigh. "...that would explain some things."

Flash wanted to respond to that, but he was encumbered by a knot in his throat.

"Well, here we are." The lieutenant signaled one of the guards at the door. The entrance was opened, and he marched up, signaling for Flash to follow. "Come," he spoke calmly, emotionlessly. "I shall take you to where the Princesses are holding their conference."

Numb, silent, Flash trotted after him on heavy hooves.

Pride

The group of guards escorted Flash Sentry up the shiny stairwell and onto the lobby floor of the Crystal Palace in utter silence, although their pace was still slow. Flash saw more guards standing at attention—this time non-crystal. Insignias that Flash had come to recognize as the Canterlot Crest were emblazoned off these ponies' breastplates. They flanked an enormous door that sealed off what Flash assumed was the Crystal Empire's throneroom. His suspicions were confirmed when he heard muffled, female voices murmuring from just beyond the frame.

"We are not too late," the lieutenant ahead of Flash spoke, eyeing the door. "They haven't returned to the festivities. They should be receptive to your presence."

Flash's hooves scuffled to a stop.

His doppelganger heard it. He turned to look neutrally at the teenager. "Is something the matter?"

"Look... before we... before I go in there, I just want to say..." Flash dug at the cold hard floor, sighing. "I'm sorry, man."

The lieutenant arched an eyebrow.

"For your loss, I mean," Flash clarified. "What happened to Mom and Dad..." He fidgeted. "What happened to your parents sucks super hard." He slowly shook his head. "I just can't imagine what it's like to have gone through that... to have to live with that."

The lieutenant calmly spoke: "You're assuming that I have much grief and pain to wrestle with."

"Well, don't you?"

"... ... ..." The lieutenant leaned back with a breath. "I did... and I would be lying if I said that there weren't nights of lonesome contemplation that still leave me crippled and wanting." He swallowed. "But I've since learned to put most of that behind me."

"It's why you became a soldier, huh?" Flash remarked. "A guard? So you could protect others? Keep them from having to suffer the same fate you did?"

"Perhaps at first," the lieutenant said, turning to face the teenager fully now. "But I soon realized that there are just some tragedies we cannot fix... no matter how strong or versatile we are. This... frustrated me, and I attempted to pass it off with a comedic, carefree attitude. I denied the fact that I was so angry... so sad..."

"What, did you learn to just... suck it up?"

"No." The soldier's eyes narrowed incredulously. "I had help."

Flash blinked.

"Captain Shining Armor... Her Majesty..." A breath. "My fellow comrades in both Canterlot and the Crystal Empire." A flicker of pride crossed the guard's blue eyes. "They supported me when I most needed it. We all make up an orderly company, after all. With their strength behind me, I found the courage to move forward. Because of this, I've managed to balance my emotions harmonically... and to spread that warmth to those around me."

Flash gulped. "And all it took was for you to stop being a silly douchebag..."

"Nopony is perfect," the lieutenant said, his muzzle curving slightly. "There is a time and a place for everything. Restraint... is key. So is timing. It's something that took me a while to learn."

"Something... I-I could do with learning as well," Flash said, his eyes falling slightly.

"Hrmmm..." The guard nodded. "Far be it from my place to say this..."

"Say anything, dude," Flash muttered.

"Wherever you come from... and—perhaps—wherever you end up staying... it might do you good to recognize the friends you have around you."

Flash's eyes darted back up.

The guard stared directly at him. "Surely you can find support from the world that exists around you," he said. His head shook. "It's never as hopeless as one thinks. This realm's reflection of you—for all that he's worth—is a living testament to that."

Flash thought on that for a bit. Eventually, he nodded. "Perhaps you're right."

"Perhaps I am."

"But..." Flash squinted one eye. "...you mustn't forget to believe in yourself first. Even with all the friends you could ask for, if you haven't got your own foundation to stand on... your own creed to follow..." He shrugged. "...how can you ever expect to go anywhere?"

"... ... ..."

"You pulled yourself out of the tragic shit that consumed your family. Friends helped you, yeah, but you gave them a direction to help you in." Flash shook his head. "Don't ever lose sight of that... and remember to thank yourself from time to time. Be confident. Embrace your own awesomeness. Or else you'll be twice as crippled on those 'lonesome nights' of deep contemplation."

The lieutenant glanced off. At some point, he too nodded. "Words of wisdom. Thank you kindly..."

"Flash..." Flash smiled. He tilted his head. "Flash."

"It... would help to find some harmony," the lieutenant mused. "To balance it all out."

"Easier said then done," Flash droned. He pointed. "You've got armor for the fight ahead."

"It weighs an awful lot, y'know."

"So does a lot of other crap."

Silence.

"We've wasted enough time as it is," the lieutenant spoke, moving towards the door.

"Heh... says you."

The guard paused again. "... ... ...it occurred to me."

"Hmmm?"

He glanced back at Flash through his helmet. "You said your parents were happy, yes?"

"Uhhhh... yeah?"

"If that is the case, then what precisely was it that convinced you to leave them and come here?"

Flash bit his lip. With a dry voice, he murmured, "You know... this job you have... protecting royal interests... earning armor... gaining the rank of friggin' lieutenant...?"

"Yes?"

"Let's just say that if you were in my place back home... being all those things... doing all those things..." He weathered a fuming breath. "...then they'd be a lot prouder than they really are now." He shuddered. "I'd be a lot prouder."

"... ... ..." The lieutenant spoke. "And if it was you in my place as a pleasant young foal, I greatly suspect my parents would have been happier right before they perished... and I would no longer look back at their passing with such remorse."

Flash blinked curiously at that.

The lieutenant allowed a final glance to linger between them. Then, he marched up to the door, spoke with the guards... and opened it to a glittering throneroom.

Flash's blue eyes lit up with ethereal grace. On timid hooves, he moved forward along with his escort... and into the shadow of three majestic figures.

Three

Flash Sentry stared at the floor.

"Your Majesties," the lieutenant spoke with a suddenly booming voice that echoed across what must have been an epic royal hall. "I present to you Flash Sentry—known colloquially as 'Brad' to the official hosts of the Unification Celebration."

Flash Sentry stared at the floor.

"Thank you most kindly, Lieutenant," spoke an elegant voice, strangely familiar in its authoritative feminine tone.

Flash Sentry stared at the floor.

"Also, Your Highness, the stewards of the Crystal Empire send their regards," the guard continued. "Captain Shining Armor returned to his duty of overseeing the festivities. In the meantime, Princess Cadance has gone to commune with King Thorax and the other delegates."

"Understood," the voice continued, strangely loving and official all at once. "We very much appreciate being briefed on the matter. You and your fellow guards are now dismissed, Lieutenant."

"Yes, Your Majesty."

Metal-laced hooves scuffled. Flash sensed the lieutenant marching past him. Their eyes did not meet, for he was still staring down at the lush roll of burgundy carpet over a polished marble floor.

Eventually, the door thundered shut behind him.

Flash took a deep breath.

He was alone with all three.

"How are you fairing, Flash Sentry?" spoke the matriarchal voice. "We are most sorry for the unsatisfactory conditions that you have endured due to the recent misunderstanding. Nevertheless, as you can imagine, there was much confusion to be cleared up concerning your presence. On multiple fronts."

Flash Sentry stared at the floor. His damned sensitive pony ears sensed a third figure—smaller than the other two—shifting in the far corner of the throneroom. His heart pulsed harder and he loathed himself for it.

"Flash Sentry?" the voice inquired, lilting upwards with concern. "Can you not hear us? I do hope you have not come down with an equine illness..." The voice shifted to a breathy whisper as she spoke aside to somepony. "Did... did Princess Cadance say anything about his living conditions? Did he get enough rest?"

"Rest—he has," a voice responded, instantly recognized by its intensity. "Dream—he hasn't." Heavy hoofsteps approached the pensive teenager. "At least not enough to welcome my presence. No doubt he blames himself."

A blue hoof reached under his chin. With more gentleness than Flash expected, he was finally forced to look up.

A big blue horse with a nebulaic mane of tapering cosmic hair stared back down at him. She spoke with Principal Luna's voice. "His eyes certainly aren't clouded."

"... ... ..." Flash's eyes briefly sparkled. His muzzle hung open. "Holy hell... you're waaaaaaaaay friggin' bigger in person."

Luna's horse nostrils flared, otherwise she remained stoic. "He is quite fine, sister. I assure you."

Another horse in the room laughed daintily. The teenager experienced a sudden flashback to when Principal Celestia once agreed to perform karaoke with the student body the day before spring break. She flubbed American Pie, and she laughed for a full minute at everyone's reaction. It sounded heavenly, and Flash smiled both inside and out.

"It's all my fault, Princess Celestia," the third one said. Flash's heart instantly sank, and his eyes were stabbed by a lavender shape in the corner. He held his breath—but that only made him hear her words in greater, starker clarity: "None of this would have happened if I had properly briefed you and the stewards of the Empire about the modifications I-I made to the portal." Flash sensed her shivering... as if she was somehow more trepidatious about this moment than she was. Unlike the other two "princesses," she was still tender, precious, and timid with each trembling word. It was adorable... and he hated himself each time his ears suckled on those rolling syllables. "If only everypony knew that the Gateway was no longer bound by the cycle of the two worlds' moons, then maybe this entire 'changeling' scare would never have happened. Instead, I-I almost indirectly caused a panic here in the Empire on the eve of Unification—"

"Just calm yourself, Twilight Sparkle," Celestia's voice said. "I understand that, as the Princess of Friendship, you've taken on responsibility for assisting my former student in combatting the strange manifestations of magic in her world through harmony and comraderie. You were empowered to make the modifications that you did to the portal. If you hadn't, then Sunset Shimmer would not have received the due assistance she needed in times of crisis, and just where would our dimensional neighbors be?"

"I... I-I understand what you mean, Princess Celestia. Even still, I could have communicated better."

"All ponies have room to grow, Twilight," Celestia said under the percussion of approaching hoofsteps. "Even princesses." Princess Luna stepped away, and Flash looked up to see the ruler of Equestria approaching him in all her shining glory. Even he had to admit—deep down—that her regal complexion somehow looked better on a giant winged space unicorn than it did on an unassuming school principal. "But communication—it would seem—has been hampered by more than quadrupeds as of late." She gazed down at him with an expression bordering on stern and bemused. "Isn't that right, 'Brad?' Or... should I say 'Flash Sentry?'"

Someone was gulping audibly right around then.

Reckoning

"You have done much good for those around you, Flash Sentry," Princess Celestia said. She stood still in one place. Somehow, Flash half-expected her to be pacing as she spoke. Instead, she kept her hooves anchored in one place while her wings extended. Between the majesty of her mane and the glamour of her polished horseshoes, it looked as though the ruler of Equestria veritably lit up the room. Perhaps she didn't intend for it—or maybe she did—but Flash felt like he was looking into an interrogator's blinding lamp the entire time she spoke to him. "My beloved sister has filled me in quite a bit. Villagers, entrepeneurs, soldiers, diamond dogs, and stewards all alike have benefited from the actions you've committed while on this side of the mirror."

Flash took a shuddering breath. "Well, I do try."

"You did in fact achieve... and achieved much—I might add. And yet..." She broke her words of congratulations for a melancholic sigh. "...it helps nopony to be dishonest."

Flash swallowed. "It helped me stay unnoticed longer."

"But do we know that for a fact?"

He bit his tongue. Flash's heart shook. He felt like he had just talked back to the school principal. What was more—and he trembled for this—he felt that he might talk back to her again.

"Your vacation into Equestria—as it were—went swimmingly until the truth caught up to you." Celestia looked in the way of the lavender shadow in the corner that Flash still refused to look at. "Granted, it wasn't just your truth that needed to be reckoned with. So, please know that I am not trying to blame you for the unfortunate imprisonment you had to endure. But, rather, I am wishing to get to the crux of the issue."

Flash hung his head again. "And that is...?"

At last, she moved. "In your world, the responsibilities at hand are different than they are for the Flash Sentry who is native to this one." Heavy-yet-graceful hoves glided in his direction. Flash's insides shook with every step. "You have a family. You have a home. From what I understand, at your age and station, you even have a school and a schedule and a curfew that you are obligated to keep." She scuffled to a stop, looming over him. His eyes squinted from her radiance, and he wasn't even looking at her directly. "Am I wrong to assume that—by your culture—you are indeed bound by a code to honor these commitments?"

Flash squirmed like a child being scolded. He leaned to his left side. He leaned to his right. He finally blurted, "I guess."

Something burst out of Celestia's muzzle—a laugh. And it was surprisingly high-pitched. "So he is a teenager!"

"Indeed," Princess Luna's voice droned. "He is."

Flash clenched his teeth. "Sonuva—" he mouthed.

Celestia spoke firmly once more: "As you may well know, Flash Sentry, my former student—Sunset Shimmer—is in constant communication with Princess Twilight Sparkle. This is accomplished through the use of a magical journal that they both use to write to one another across the fabric of time and space that divides our worlds."

Flash Sentry found the strength to speak. "I think I have heard of this, your Majesty." He winced, then corrected himself: "Your Highness." He winced again, then corrected himself again: "Your... Princess H-Horseness..."

Celestia's voice was hardly amused. "Well, are you aware that—over the past three days—Sunset Shimmer has done nothing but write Princess Twilight franticaly—non ceasingly—page after page... paragraph after paragraph filled with desperate, pleading, tear-stained entries concerning your sudden disappearance and unknown whereabouts beyond the portal?"

Flash wasn't certain his heart could sink any lower. Nevertheless, it plunged, and he dropped his heavy eyelids for counterbalance. In the dark fabric of his mind, he looked back at every moment he had ever slouched down the hallways of Canterlot High... or sat alone in the cafeteria surrounded by no one. On those occasions and more, he'd catch worried looks and sympathetic expressions from seven figures out the corner of his eye, but he always blotted them out—blotted everything out—just for savoring the pitiable bliss of his gray-shaded solitude. Once upon a time, such sacrifice felt noble. But now—cowering under the solar glare of a far wiser soul than he had ever met before—it felt downright pathetic.

Everything was pathetic. He thought he left that behind. He only chose to pursue it all the harder.

"Your friends on the other side found your belongings... your articles of clothing left before the mirror," Princess Celestia explained. "Sunset Shimmer knew it could only mean one thing. In a scientific world mostly-deprived of magic, this left her with the burden of having to trace your movement. Sunset, you must understand, does not have the luxury of informing everyone on her side about Equestria or the nature of Equestria... despite the fact that—no doubt—she would greatly desire to. This remained true even when your parents began their own frantic search. Did it not occur to you that your very own family would be worried? Sunset Shimmer states that there is currently a so-called 'Missing Persons Search' involving the 'Local County Police' on your side of the portal as we speak. I do believe I have an inkling as to what such a thing involves, but no doubt you're more capable of understanding it in human terms."

Flash Sentry's eyes clenched harder. His teeth was gritting to the breaking point as his body shook.

"Flash Sentry... as Princess of the Sun, I am charged with the protection of all of my subjects. This includes pony and non-pony alike. Even if the Crystal Empire did not join the Equestrian Union, I would still feel obligated—by my innate respect of harmonic virtue—to do everything in my power to uphold the safety and security of those who dwell within this realm. With all of that under supreme consideration, I must tell you that—no—you are not a threat to my subjects. You were never a threat to my subjects. If nothing else, as corroborated by my sister and those who have associated with you over the past week, you have been a tried and true blessing to all those whose lives you have touched. It is not their livelihood that I am concerned with. Rather... it is yours."

Weakly—feebly—Flash Sentry finally looked up.

When he gazed up at Celestia's expression, it didn't burn him like he expected. Nevertheless, there was undeniable intensity flickering behind those compassionate eyes of hers as she spoke: "You have abandoned your obligations as a citizen and a student. You have vanished from the midst of your family. You have left behind a mother, a father, and a fellowship of terribly worried friends. Most of them don't know where you have gone. A good portion—as sad as it is to contemplate—may very likely think that you are dead." She took a calm breath. "This is the dishonesty that has troubled me. And—I would hope—it would worry you as well. While you have done much good for this world, I fear that you have only done worse for your own by disappearing. Now—I ask you, Flash Sentry—is it high time that you make amends? If not for your sake directly, then for Sunset's... for your friends'... for your family's?"

Flash sighed out the side of his muzzle. "I... I guess you're right, Princess—"

"Flash Sentry..."

Flash looked towards Princess Luna.

She was gazing back at him. Sharply. "I assure you... there will not be another time to be more direct than you have received right now."

Celestia's eyes darted between them. "Please, Flash, if there is something that weighs on your spirit, it would do us all well to share it."

The third figure in the distant edge of the throneroom shifted.

Flash noticed it—noticed the vulnerability. Perhaps—in some morbid way—that's what gave him the strength to stand up tall and speak firmly: "You say that those back home might think I'm dead...?"

Celestia gave a somber nod. "That is quite right. Even Sunset herself expressed great concern."

Flash seethed. "Princess Celestia... when I spent my days back where I come from..." His teeth gnashed. "I wished I was dead."

Neither Celestia or Luna said a word. They simply gazed upon him and listened.

So he continued, shivering. "Morning to sunset... surrounded by so many damned idiots... wading through filth and... and ugliness and... and... and apathy..." He shook his head, fighting the urge to hyperventilate. "I just couldn't even function... much less stay sane! And after so much in my life had gone to shit with so many people misunderstanding me and prejudging me and postjudging me and... and... and..." He winced, his eyes almost trailing towards the corner of the room. He brushed against the lavender shadow and shot back towards Celestia with a frown. "It was either this or a cyanide sandwich. I sw-swear..." That last exhalation was a shuddering one, as even he had to recover from the weight of those words being ripped off his tongue. "Je... Jesus Christ..." He stifled a whimper and ran a hoof through his mane. "One day or another... I... I just wouldn't take it anymore..."

Celestia's next breath had a motherly tone to it, and somehow Flash already knew where she was going. "You are at a delicate and tumultous point in your life, Flash Sentry. I can't imagine that things could be as horrible as—"

"With all d-due respect y-your Princess-ness..." Flash tried to sound tough, but he stuttered the sincerity outward like a gatling gun. "But you can't imagine anything... because you're never there. It's just not your world. Sunset Shimmer might understand... but that's different. But you?" He shook his head. "You couldn't understand. Just like I couldn't understand anything about this world. But then I explored it! I did something awesome for once in my life and I accomplished something." His lower lip quivered. "All I-I ever wanted was to be useful to someone. And now I am useful to someone... to somepony. A lot of them. Equestria..." He grimaced, but squeaked it out. "I make a difference here."

"You can make a difference back in your world."

"No." Flash shook his head. "Not the way it was going. Not the way... I-I allowed myself to rot in there."

"Flash, please, if you just consider—" Celestia began.

"Sister..."

Celestia looked at Luna.

Luna's gaze was intense but her voice was calm. "I have seen his mind. It is not all hyperbole."

Celestia sighed. "He has obligations there, Luna."

Luna nodded. "And your former student still has obligations here. But she has accomplished much on that side. Admirably so—has she not?"

Silence.

Flash continued staring at Celestia. He was shaking where he stood.

At long last, Celestia looked at Flash again. It took her a while, but when she spoke again, her voice sounded exactly the same. "You have a family in your world, Flash. Despite the circumstances that brought you to this point, do you not think that you would m—?"

"Will you force me to go back there?" Flash asked.

"My child, I am simply saying—"

"Will you force me to go back?" he asked, eyes sharp as knives.

Luna glanced between them.

Princess Celestia leaned back. She exhaled slowly, her eyes melancholic—but gentle all the same. After an interminable period of regal contemplation...

"No."

Choices

Flash Sentry steeled himself, breathing calmly. He watched as Princess Celestia leaned back, regarding him with a lofty expression.

"I will not force you to go back through the portal," she stated matter-of-factly. "I am the sovereign alicorn monarch of this realm and this realm alone. The world of humans is simply... beyond my jurisdiction. I am certain you can understand."

Flash nodded. He gulped, then managed, "Thank you, Your Highness."

"Please. Do not thank me," Princess Celestia said. "For I do not know yet if this works to your supreme benefit. But... it does give you both the time and the freedom for arriving at a healthy decision. Those two things—more than anything else—I sense that you deeply need at this particular juncture. It would be worse than criminal to rob you of such a moment of reflection. It is something that—I now sense—has been a long time coming." She took a deep breath, gazing at him with a compassionate expression. "It is my sincere hope that you consider those beyond yourself in pursuing this new phase in your life. You have exhibited such remarkable compassion and selflessness to those whom you have met since arriving here. Consider—perhaps—sharing a similar respect for those whom you have left behind."

The teenager gazed past her. A pair of violet eyes stared back, and he had to fight to keep his eyes open.

"Princess Twilight Sparkle would very much desire to speak with you," Celestia said, making the stallion's blood run cold. There was a momentary pause, as if she was digesting his silence with a new, intuitive taste. "For the good of everypony, I sincerely encourage you to grant her an audience. She did go through an awful lot to track you down, my little pony."

"Please, your Highness," Flash corrected. "Just call me 'Flash.'"

Celestia raised an eyebrow, smiling slightly. "You may find yourself having to settle for silly things in this world." She brushed past him with airy grace. "Though—from what I can tell—that won't be very difficult for you, will it?"

He blinked, then turned to watch her leave. When Flash turned back, Princess Luna was staring him down. The stallion jumped slightly.

Luna was unfazed. "My sister has lived with guilt for a very long time." Her nostrils flared. "I envy her, in a way, for I suspect I would be much wiser for it."

Flash gulped, momentarily satisfied that she was occupying his vision. "Couldn't we all?"

"Make no mistake..." She said, her tone as neutral as her expression. "...while you may have an affinity for this realm, you came from another. Like all creatures of two worlds, a choice awaits you, one that will not be as easy to make as you may currently think, with or without the leeway that my sister has granted."

Flash's ears drooped slightly. He tried on a nervous smile. "I don't suppose... I-I could choose to follow you outside now and rejoin the festivities?"

Luna sighed. "Alas, Flash Sentry..." She began trotting past him. "...life wouldn't be life without us being forced to face the final curtain."

He clenched his eyes shut as her hoofsteps grew more and more distant.

"When you both are done," Luna's voice carried over. "There is a group of ponies in the banquet hall yearning to speak with you. They are none other than the friends you have accumulated during your travels here, and they are quite concerned about you. Who better than the Princess of Friendship to speak to before such a blissful reunion?"

The doors to the throne room creaked open for one last time, then shut with a dull thud.

Hoofsteps approached... dainty... adorable.

She scuffled to a stop, and her voice came forth. Somehow—it was more timid than he remembered, and his heart shattered once again. "Hey... h-hey there, Flash..."

Flash inhaled courage. He forced his eyes open and stared into the loveliness. "Hey yourself." He tried putting on a suave smile, but it looked awkward in her reflective gaze.

So he stopped pretending.

Twilight

If it weren't for her voice, Flash Sentry wouldn't have recognized her. At least not at first. Only when she trotted closer did he see the same charming feebleness, the familiar glint of uncertainty in her eyes. A soul that strove towards learning—but uncertain over how to handle the unknown when it appeared right in front of her. She looked far more majestic in equine form than he ever imagined, with a pronounced unicorn horn and flaring wings that gave her a regal posture—all ruined by a nervous stoop to her figure as she slinked forward, ears folded and teeth gnawing on a lower lip. The creature was in many ways a fuzzy fascimile of the displaced soul that had clumsily bumped into him more than once, countless melancholic moons ago.

She was still adorable as Hell, and that's what burned Flash Sentry the most.

"You... you're not hurt at all, are you?" she asked.

He took an extra few seconds to register that. His muzzle scrunched in confusion. "Hurt? How?"

"Well... when I first went through the mirror, I had the hardest time walking straight. Starlight told me you look a bit wobbly when you appeared in the Palace. And... and to get as far as you did—"

"I flew."

"You flew?"

"Yeah. A nice pegasus named Derpy Hooves taught me how."

"... ... ..." She grimaced. "Are you certain you're not hurt?"

Flash Sentry chuckled.

Twilight Sparkle giggled.

A breath and a tail-flick later, the moment had passed, and both souls were naked before the immense weight of the present. Neither of them could particularly stare straight.

"It's nice to know that you're concerned about me," Flash said.

"Why wouldn't I be?!" Twilight breathed.

Flash Sentry winced.

Twilight Sparkle winced harder.

The weight pressed in. Settling. Bending.

"My friends and I were visiting a distant land over the past week," Twilight said, embarking upon what would undoubtedly be an epic explanation. "The map in the Palace called all of us over to the eastern seaboard. As it turned out, an acquaintance of ours named Tempest Shadow had discovered a hidden hovel where several of the Storm King's former minions were hiding. They were nearly starving, lost, with nowhere to turn." She swallowed, eyes sweeping across all the corners of the throneroom that the stallion wasn't occupying. "All their lives they had known nothing but gruntwork and violence. With Tempest's help, we managed to find them an island near a trade route where they can eke out a living. Applejack taught them how to plant crops and cast for fish. Fluttershy spent a lot of time listening to them and... and getting them to open up about their... fears and feelings..." She ran a hoof up to her face, sighing. "And listen to me. I sound like I'm delivering a friendship report. Celestia help me."

Flash exhaled. "Sounds like you did a lot of good for these... Storm King people."

"Bottom line—we came back and Starlight Glimmer was waving us down at the entrance to the Castle." The lavender lines in Twilight's muzzle hardened. "She said 'the book is going haywire!' And I said 'Book? Which book? You're going to have to be a bit more specific than that, Starlight.' Then Pinkie Pie made some really funny joke. But before I could have a good laugh, Starlight teleported back and forth and shoved the journal into my face—the journal to Sunset Shimmer's diarny in your world. It was glowing like a stack of candles. I opened it to the middle and—lo and behold—there are ten whole pages full of Sunset writing desperate notes to me. Panicking. Freaking out because... because Flash Sentry had disappeared and she was hoping I had seen him... seen you. She hoped against hope that you had gone through the mirror because that might mean you'd be safe among ponykind. It might have meant... that you hadn't died."

Flash was already face-hoofing long before the princess finished. After a cold sigh, his only response was: "How did she think I would have died?"

"... ... ...Flash?"

He lowed his hoof.

Her muzzle was twisted in a hard grimace. "What kind of a question is that?!?"

Flash was silent.

"... ... ..." With a noticeably raspier breath, Twilight stood straight with coiled wings. "Well..." She began, her tone sharp. "...of course, we started searching right away. With what we had to go on by Starlight's testimony, we attempted to retrace your steps out of the castle. Rainbow Dash went ahead to search the countryside. Pinkie Pie and Applejack went asking around town. Fluttershy and Rarity went to the train station to see if a stallion of your description had taken a ride to any of the major cities. We were at a loss to figure out where you went... but then Pinkie and Applejack noticed something. There were several other ponies of Ponyville missing too. The Cakes had left town for some reason. Bon Bon and Lyra Heartstrings were gone. Octavia Melody, Vinyl Scratch, Derpy Hooves... even Filthy Rich were nowhere to be found. Rarity and Fluttershy corroborated with the train conductors, and we discovered that everypony had gone to the Crystal Empire for some simultaneous purpose. Somepony told us that Derpy Hooves was the last to leave, and one of the ponies to have been seen talking to her beforehand was a Wonderbolt from out of town. So, Rainbow Dash took a quick flight to the Academy to get the scoop. There, she learned what had happened to Spitfire's detachment and where they were currently stationed. She also learned from a messenger or two that Spitfire's group had run into a helpful stranger with a blue mane that helped out at High Paw and... well... here we are."

Flash nodded.

"Flash..." Twilight cocked her head to the side. Her voice was fragile, curious, needy. "...did you really mean to throw us for such a wild goose chase?"

Flash breathed out the side of his muzzle. "I was hoping nobody would notice."

"You know that's impossible, right?" Twilight said. "For you to leave your life behind and go through the portal with absolutely nobody noticing?"

"I... guess not..."

Twilight shook her head. Her eyes were thin, confused, searching. At long last, she exhaled, "Do you honestly think that—somehow, for some reason—you're too small and insignificant for anyone to care? Sunset Shimmer was besides herself with tears, Flash! You think my friends and I went out of our minds searching here in Equestria? The people on your side of the mirror were looking for a body! Sunset and the rest of the girls about wore their geodes to the nub trying to figure out what had happened to you!"

Flash's teeth showed. "I didn't ditch my life beyond the mirror as a stunt to get people to care about me—"

"Then why did you do it?"

"Because I couldn't bear another day in that hellhole!" Flash seethed. A few fuming breaths later, and he calmed slightly. "In two visits, you've spent less than a total of a week on my side, Twilight," he said in a quiet-yet-firm tone. "And it nearly drove you bonkers—having to deal. Imagine living there your whole life."

"You're right." Twilight Sparkle nodded. "It did grate on me. Whenever I visit that world, I'm stripped of balance... stripped of magic... reduced to a clumsy biped with very little to go on. And yet—even in spite of all that—I still stuck it out both times I went there. That's because I had one crisis or another that I had to avert. Even when I was at my most uncomfortable, I strove to make a difference. I was even willing to stay there forever and away from my friends here in Equestria if it meant that a powermongering she-demon didn't corrupt the Element of Magic and enslave the people living in that world."

Flash bit his lip. He gazed at the floor again.

"Flash... I... I-I can't account for what you may have been going through... or what you might still be going through." Twilight sighed, wings flexing. "I'm the Princess of Friendship," she said with no ounce of pride. A shrug later: "I can only tell you what I know is true... what I believe in: that anything can be solved with friendship." Her eyes narrowed. "And when I last left the human world, you were surrounded by friends. Not just any friends, but the likes of Sunset and Rainbow Dash and Applejack... Pinkie Pie and Rarity and Fluttershy... friends who could help you... who can still help you! All you need to do is ask! Like..." She shook her head. "If you had to leave your world so badly... to come to Equestria and—I dunno—chill... then why didn't you just ask?"

Flash looked up at her. Quiet and expressionless.

"Just—... all it would have taken was asking nicely!" Twilight smiled hopefully. "Sunset and I could have worked something out! You could have gotten a grand tour of Ponyville! I know for a fact that Starlight would have enjoyed doing that. Or Spike. Or—"

"I couldn't ask Sunset Shimmer," Flash said.

"Why..." Twilight blinked. "Why not?"

"I couldn't ask anybody." Flash shook his head. "I didn't want to. I..." He clenched his jaw. "...I-I'm even having a hard time talking to you, Tw-Twilight."

"I... don't understand," she murmured. "What was such the big problem that you couldn't—?"

He took a step towards her.

"!!!" She limped backwards, flinching.

He stopped in place, neither victorious nor disappointed in his expression.

Twilight shuddered, her wingfeathers and tail drooped. It was her time to avoid his gaze.

Even if she was to look at him, he wasn't brandishing a scowl. Far from it. "If you had ever decided to visit my world again, would you have told me ahead of time?"

Twilight answered him by not answering him. She bit her lip and stared at the floor.

"Whatever it is... I feel it too," he said. "Believe me. You're not the only one."

At last, she stammered: "Aren't I?" Her muzzle curved guiltily. "At least I'm here with my friends. But you, Flash? Who do you have?"

He looked past her. "... ... ...you've been gone for a very long time, Twilight."

She nodded limply. "Yes. I suppose that I have."

Sparkle

When finally... after much silence... Twilight Sparkle spoke again, it was with words that Flash Sentry had once fantasized about. Or—at least—a part of him once did.

"It's... it's all my fault, Flash..."

Only now... all it did was bring a sting of bitterness.

"I'm so very sorry..."

He ran a hoof over his face, looking towards the floor of the throneroom as he struggled to stay upright.

Her voice shook in all the right octaves, conveying the sincerity of her soulful confession. "I should have come back." She gulped. "I should have come back to see you." She gulped harder. "I... I thought about it so many times. But every time I did, I couldn't muster the strength." She looked up. Eyes glossy. Reflecting. On the brim of flowing. "But I never did."

He weathered himself for the breaths to come.

"I told myself that I was overthinking it all," she continued. "I told myself that there was nothing to worry about... nothing to fulfill... nothing to cultivate. I had gone there simply to preserve harmony and make friends... but nothing more. Nothing more." She sucked in her breath through her teeth, shaking her head. "I'm the Princess of Friendship! This... this is what I excel in! But even still I have problems! I still struggle! Even when I stopped being Celestia's student, I found newer and grander challenges to wrestle with! And... and I had my very own student to teach about friendship. And now she's moved on and even surpassed me in so many ways... and still I'm finding more about friendsihp to learn about and to discover and to process and... and... and I-I just don't know how to handle it all at times! Much less anything grander... anything more... more intimate. That's... that's Princess Cadance's realm of expertise but then if I actually cared about learning more about it like a good scholar I would have sat myself down and had a long talk with her but instead I... I..."

Silence.

"... ... ...I should have gone through the mirror to see you anyways," Twilight Sparkle murmured. "I should have sat you down and told you that... that I simply have no room in my life for something like... like what we a-almost had." She squeaked the words out, sacrificing delicate tact for blunt fact. "You helped me. You helped me when I needed it the most—when your world needed me the most. You deserved more. You still deserve more. And I... I-I just left you hanging. I assumed that you would forget about me or that you wouldn't care and I just... let it all linger." She sniffled, her tears finally releasing as her burden did, rolling to the floor in breathy waves. "I left you alone and dejected and suffering for truth. And now you've cr-crawled here to this world for relief from the pain and confusion and it's all my fault." She wiped her cheek dry—if only for a few seconds. "Thoughtful inaction is just as bad as impulsive action... but—in my case—it's infinitely more selfish, and I'm sorry, Flash. I'm sorry that... that I didn't have the courage to tell you to your face that it couldn't work between us."

At long last, it was over. Totally and completely.

Thus, Flash surprised even himself when—with perfectly dry eyes—he swiftly responded: "I'm glad that you didn't tell me, Twilight."

The throneroom teetered. That, or Twilight did. Either way, when the swaying was done, she stood in place with a gaping expression. "What...?" She sniffled, her tears still trickling. "Why... h-how could you possibly feel that way?"

At first, he was silent... as if wondering about that himself. The synapses fired belatedly, and he spilled the truth out as it started making sense in his mind. "When you first came into my life, I was still reeling from Sunset Shimmer. She had dominated my life in every faculty, ridiculing me and making me feel like shit whenever I so much as tried to think for myself. Sometimes I wonder how I found the strength to break up with her the way I did—to tell her to her face that the two of us were no longer an item—but I did. And I lost so much for doing that. I lost friends... I lost respect... I lost my social standing. Sure, I had freedom... but what did that matter in the long run? All the bridges in my life had been burnt. Instead of being some loser tied to the hip of a psychotic bully, I was now some lone loser drifting away into the shadows of the school hallways. I hadn't gotten used to being a pariah yet... and I was terrified... so friggn' terrified of being alone. And... and I wanted back in, Twilight. No—not with Sunset. But if things had gone the way I feared, then I would have found somebody else... somebody worse than her. I was... programmed into feeling like shit. I needed somebody to treat me shittily just so I could feel useful... and loved. Because that's all I knew. Even around my parents—it's all I've ever known. Guilt and shame and regret... a bitter circle forged unbreakable by the pretense of familiarity. I didn't believe in anything better... because I had nothing better."

Twilight's wince deepened, as if she knew where this was going.

And she was right.

"And then I met you, Twilight," Flash said, sporting the truest, gentlest smile he had produced in ages. His feathertips fluttered with perfect honesty, and for a moment he cherished the warmth in his own breath, a very strange thing. "And—without meaning to, without demanding anything—you shone so much innocence and harmony and joy in my life." The breath had passed, and he filled the void left by the smile with a serious deadpan. "And... And I-I'm not even remotely implying that you willfully flaunted anything in my face... or that you should be saddled with the burden of a young man's fancy. But..." A slow, melting sigh. "...for a blissfully brief moment in my life... I had met a princess... I had met a princess and I was in love with her. And she was so beautiful... so selfless... so courageous and virtuous and... and inspiring." A gulp. "You inspired me, Twilight. You still do. Being around you... knowing that I ever once made you smile... makes me believe that there's still good inside of me. That... not everything has been burnt to ashes from the days I frittered and wasted with Sunset and..."

All the warmth vanished. He breathed steadily, his wings coiling and his ears straight.

"...and then you vanished." A blink. "And you never came back. I had a glimpse of something beautiful... something to aspire to... and it was gone." Flash Sentry slowly shook his head, gazing into invisible stars beyond the crystalline framework of that chamber. "How could I ever settle for anything lesser? For anyone less pure... less amazing." He leaned back. "So..." A firm nod. "I didn't. I existed... I drifted... I diminished. But—as lonely and miserable as it may or may not have been—I'd take it any day over the shitmongrel I would have become if I hadn't met you... if I hadn't been given a glimpse of something dreamly... something otherworldly. I would have... mmmfff... I-I woulda rolled over for the very next she-demon who came my way and I'd be something way... way worse by now... something I would have truly... truly regretted. But... but I didn't stoop any lower. I caught myself... and as much as I may have drifted... I-I didn't drift downwards. I avoided the cesspool."

At long last, he looked at her. A smile had returned—not as strong as the one before—but earnest nonetheless.

"And now I've abandoned it altogether. Don't you see, Twilight? If it weren't for you, I would never have made this trip to begin with. I would never have found the strength to find a world—to find a life better than my own. I would never have drummed up the courage to ditch that life for good... just like I almost once struggled to ditch a crazy girlfriend for good."

"Flash..." Twilight's muzzle had twisted into a worried expression. "Is this really how it should come to pass, though?" She slowly shook her head. "With you disappearing completely from everyone you know and love?"

"I've yet to find everyone I know and love, Twilight," Flash said firmly. The smile broke briefly, but it came back in a courageous stroke. "Only now—I have the strength to admit it. And—yes—I am okay with disappearing. I've been okay with that for a long time."

"You're... certain of this?"

Flash's ear hairs twitched. Blown by an unseen wind. Like a gust of cold night air through an opening car window. "Yes," he produced... but it was scarcely audible.

Harmony

Twilight Sparkle needed some air. For that reason, the two of them found themselves trotting out onto the balcony outside the Crystal Palace's throne room. The night's sky was still alive with a tapering aurora, but the fireworks had long stopped. The hour was late, and the bulk of the partygoers were trotting off to their homes and hotels to sleep away the exhaustion of the Empire's festivities.

"To be honest, Flash..." Twilight's voice was hoarse as she attempted to process the situation at hoof. "...I wouldn't even know where to begin. I mean, the legalities of what you're proposing—"

"Princess Celestia already gave her blessing," Flash said bluntly. "You heard her just a moment ago—"

"What she gave was a lack of condemnation," Twilight said with the hint of a frown. She leaned against the balcony's railing for support, her mane kicked lightly by the evening breeze. "There's a difference."

"She didn't seem to think so."

"Flash—! Have—?" She clenched her eyes shut, inhaled sharply, then looked at him as calmly as she could. "Have you thought of how your family is going to react when they learn that their son isn't coming back? That he's chosen to stay in a magical pony world where he has wings?"

He shrugged. "They've been through worse."

"Flash..."

"And even if the news does shatter them," he droned, gazing out at the reflective buildingtops with disinterest. "It's probably for the best. They're miserable together."

"Really?"

He took a deep breath. "Over two decades of being married to an idea. It's not about love. It's not even about the contract. It's about who can outlast the other amidst the relentless waves of mundanity—and who'll take the blame into the grave first."

Twilight's muzzle contorted into an incredulous smile. "If that's the low bar you set for a relationship, then I really shouldn't feel too flattered."

Flash gazed at her. "You're nothing like my mom or dad, Twilight," he said. "It's like a whole 'nother universe compared to—"

"Oh please, Flash." She moaned, eyes rolling. "Just because I'm a pink pony princess doesn't mean I'm completely naive." Her nostrils flared. "You think you ditched a cesspool on your side of the mirror? Equestria's no stranger to dysfunctional relationships."

"You're wrong."

"What?!" She gasped. "I'm trying to tell you that not everything here is sunshine and rainbows like you thi—"

"You're a pretty prancing pink pony princess," he said, winking.

Twilight blinked. "I... it... what...?"

He smirked.

"That... it..." Twilight stomped her hooves, wings flaring. "Cut it out! I'm trying to talk about your future, Flash!"

"Heheheheh..." He pointed at her. "Holy crap—you are turning pink!" He teetered back, full-on laughing now. "Hah hah hah! I thought you were supposed to be a lavender unicorn!"

"I'm a lavender alicorn! I was a unicorn before I first met you but I've since—What's so funny?!"

"Hah hah hah hah!" He hugged himself with his forelimbs, almost falling over.

She blinked at him. Her lips curved. Soon she was giggling helplessly, tail flicking with strange euphoria and relief.

The stallion leaned against the edge of the balcony for support. At long last, his chuckles diminished, and he exhaled with relief.

Twilight calmed as well. Her smile persisted, warm and intrigued. "...that's the first time I ever heard you laugh." A thoughtful breath. "I... Isuppose that says something."

"Mmmm... perhaps..." He gazed out at the shiny, shiny streets. The wind kicked at his handsome bangs as he absorbed the moment with contemplative poise. Melancholic, deep. "Perhaps it says nothing. It makes little difference either way."

She blinked. In a quiet voice, she said, "Flash... I... I really hope that—by choosing to stay here—you're not expecting for... for you and I to—"

"I don't want to be in a relationship with you, Twilight."

She blinked. "Oh." Her ears drooped slightly, but it was barely noticeable. "For a second there—"

"I was more in love with the idea of being in love with someone," Flash said. "I realized it long ago."

"So..." She brushed her bangs aside, studying him nervously. "That's all it was?"

He was silent.

Her eyes narrowed. "That's all it is...?"

He shut his eyes tightly. A hard breath. "Yes..." The next part came out harder. "Please... don't feel bad."

"I don't. Believe me."

Flash reopened his eyes. "Alright..." He breathed easier and easier... but his shoulders stooped more and more. "Alright... alright..."

She fidgeted with her hooves against the balcony's edge, avoiding his gaze suddenly. "You must have hated me for so long."

"No," he said instantly. Then, just as instantly—"Well..."

She bit her lip.

He sighed. "Angsty teenagers gonna angst."

"Huh?"

He looked halfway towards her. "I went through phases, okay? And it wasn't all about you. It was also about... a-about Sunset... about your friends—about her friends. How happy they seemed to be all the time. How lucky I thought they were... to have been gifted magic... to have become popular... to have gotten all of the things that I never got... or thought I never got. Then—before I knew it—I had hated and angst'd my way into a corner. I felt as though they ignored me every day... that they had moved on past me... like I no longer made a difference to them or anyone... that I had become invisible..."

"You know that none of that is true, now, right?" Twilight's voice lilted with compassion. "You... you still have friends to go back to if you only wan—"

"I'm not going back, Twilight," he said with a hint of a growl.

She didn't flinch from it, but rather stood taller and more resolute. "They miss you deeply."

"I have friends here," Flash declared firmly. "I'm not about to abandon them."

She nodded. "Yes. So I've heard. You really should be proud of yourself."

"It's... it's not about pride..." He looked at her, arching an eyebrow. "I just wanted to make a difference in someone's life! To be useful for once and not some... pathetic loser!"

"I hear you, Flash—"

"Is that such a crime?!"

"I never said that it was!" Twilight exclaimed. "I was trying to say that you've done a lot of good in this world and it's a remarkable thing!"

"Yeah... well... uhm..." Flash looked off towards the night-kissed urbanscape, exhaling. "Yeah..."

"It'd be just as remarkable back where you came from," Twilight said. "Perhaps... even more so."

He blinked. His eyes darted towards her. "Huh?"

"Well... being the Princess of Friendship and all..." She rolled her eyes at herself and stifled a giggle. "Not to toot my own horn or anything... but it comes with experience."

"Sure. Totally."

"And no matter what angle I look at a situation—at a friendship lesson learned through blood, sweat, tears, or cupcakes—it all comes down to one thing. Harmony. Harmony—and the courage to engage in harmony—is what makes friendship work. Doesn't matter who's involved or what's at stake. It's all about sacrifice... about going against the grain at times to make the impossible to work."

He nodded thoughtfully. "What... was your hardest lesson?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"Are you kidding?" he muttered, turning to face her. "'Fess up. What was the hardest?"

She had already prepared a knowing grin. "Canterlot High."

He sighed, gazing back out at the rooftops surrounding the Palace. "Bull piss."

"Cussing in front of the pretty prancing pink pony princess?"

"Meh."

She cocked her head aside. "Want to know why it was the hardest?"

He exhaled... then glanced patiently at her.

She said, "In Equestria... harmony is more than just a word. It's magic. It's attuned to my very own Element. It reaches into the essence of this world and pulls hearts and minds into the warmth of togetherness. It's a very real fabric that you can touch. Even smell at times. You think sparkles and glitter just exist in the visual spectrum?"

"So... you're saying that you've been cheating."

She giggled. "No." She smiled at him. "What I'm saying is that when I came into your world, I had to work harder."

"Why?"

"Because there—harmony is just what it sounds like to you... like it is with all humans from birth, seemingly. An abstract term." She swallowed. "And I found it... very humbling to try and bring people together without magic to assist me... to make it easy."

"You still got a lot of good done."

"Yes. Miraculously. Thanks to lucky circumstances... to lucky people." She nodded. "People like you."

He looked at her. "You were being framed for something that you didn't do. It was a sucky situation. I had to help you out."

"But you didn't have to. You didn't know me. I was a stranger. What if you put your neck out for me and I took advantage of it?"

"But you didn't."

"But you didn't know that I wouldn't," Twilight said emphatically. "You took a risk... a potential sacrifice. It was... It h-had to have been like helping a crazy person on the street. What good would it have done for you? For anyone?"

Flash's throat tightened.

"It was because it was the harmonic thing to do. Helping someone in need. Making sure that someone around you—even a crazy outcast with nothing to show for herself—got to experience the prosperity that's due for all of us—in essence." She smiled beautifully. "I don't know about you... but I think that what you did for me back at Canterlot High far outshines what you've done since you came here to Equestria. I mean that... it had to have been a lot harder to do... a lot riskier. That's... why I just can't write off humans. They can accomplish so much in places without magic... because they possess a measure of harmony in their hearts. And that's... pretty amazing." She swallowed, gazing off. "Every letter that Sunset writes me fills me with... such pride and wonder. If you want to know the truth... I-I really haven't gone back there because... b-because I lack the courage that she has to stick it out. Me? I'm the Princess of Friendship, and I've done a lot for Equestria. But there are times when I think... I know that what she does for those around her stands out all the more. It's... it's really amazing. Truly, it is."

He gazed at her for a lengthy period. Then he said: "Would you really have let Sunset Shimmer destroy the mirror? Back when she was still evil, I mean." He leaned lazily against the balcony, exhaling through his everything. "Would you really have stayed in the human world... knowing in your heart all that you've just told me now?"

It was Twilight's turn to deflate against the balcony's edge. She gazed tiredly at the dark horizon. "...I don't know. It would certainly be very difficult... very hard to give up everything I'm accustomed to... to strip myself of magic forever. But... that's something I've learned after having so many crazy adventures and brushes with evil..."

His ears perked. "What?" He blinked. "What have you learned?"

She looked plainly at him. "That doing what's hardest is usually what's best... for oneself and for others... in the long run." She gulped, looking past the stallion. "I still haven't figured it all out, Flash. Like I said, I'm always learning. Someday—I hope—I'll have it figured out. Maybe Sunset will eventually help me understand." Her eyes met his again. "Perhaps you will too."

"Me?" His lips pursed. "How?"

"Well, if you're staying here, it must be for a supreme reason," she said with a gentle smile. "As a pony, you're bound by harmony now. It's how everything flows here."

"Mmmm... magic, right?" he said.

"That's the surface of it, yes." She nodded. "But there's far... far more. I truly hope you get to discover as much as you can, Flash." Her eyebrows lifted above a hopeful smile. "It would be very fascinating to see a person like you gets to grow."

"Yeah..." He nodded, eyes drifting. "...grow."

Bullet

The doors to the throneroom creaked open. Flash Sentry and Princess Twilight casually walked out into the large crystalline hallways of the Palace.

"If you ask me, I think Ponyville would be your best bet," the alicorn said.

"Oh yeah? Why's that?" Flash looked aside in mid-step. "So you can watch over me from the Friendship Castle or whatnot?"

Twilight rolled her eyes. "Nooo." A beat. "Although... I certainly wouldn't mind checking in on you from time to time." She fidgeted slightly in mid-step. "To... to make sure that you're adjusting just fine to Equestria."

He smiled slightly. "I think I've got a pretty snazzy support group for that."

"They could help you—in Ponyville, I mean. But... y'know..." She looked at him. "You don't strictly have to stay in town. You're a pegasus. You have wings."

"So I've noticed..."

"You could go anywhere at anytime!" Princess Twilight declared jubilantly. "Cloudsdale... Las Pegasus... Manehattan... Stratopolis... even Griffonstone!"

Flash Sentry's muzzle scrunched. "'Stratopolis?'"

"The whole world is your oyster! Heehee..." Twilight smiled rosily. "It... it must be really exciting, come to think of it."

"I... think I just wanna concentrate on the here and now."

"What? You mean you'll be staying in the Crystal Empire?"

"No, I mean... er... I-I guess what I mean is..." Flash rubbed one front leg with the other. "...I kinda want to take it one step at a time."

"Oh. I understand."

"After all... I wasn't very good at picking careers in the real wo—I mean the human world."

"Again..." Twilight winked. "I understand."

"Cool. Good."

"You'll still need a job, though."

Flash looked at her. "Huh?"

"What?" Twilight giggled slightly. "Did you just think all ponies lived in communes, sang songs, and wrapped-up winter?"

"No. I figured they herded about, ate hay, and died of getting their rectums tied in a knot. Throw me a bone here, your Highness!"

"Heeheehee—you could take up music!" She pivoted to face him. "You... you are good at that, aren't you?"

"I'm... a bit rusty." Flash shifted where he stood. "But—if there's anything I've learn—I've got a fresh library of awesome songs in my head that nopony in this world has heard. I could probably go on tour with that... or something."

"I know a few musical ponies in Ponyville who would gladly lend you a hoof."

"Funny." Flash smiled slightly. "So do I."

"Well... it's a start, I suppose."

"That's all I need, Twilight," Flash said. "A start."

Silence.

The two became aware of some bodies standing in their peripheral vision. They looked to see the lieutenant and several other guards standing at attention.

Flash bit his lip.

Without hesitation, Twilight Sparkle stepped towards them, her wings flaring outward. "You are relieved of duty, sirs. This stallion is no longer to be under guard."

The lieutenant bowed low. "As you wish, your highness." He stole a blue-eyed glance at Flash. Then—half-a-second later—he gestured to his fellow soldiers. The group disbanded, leaving that portion of the Palace.

Flash sighed. "Talk about careers..."

"Yes, well..." Twilight cleared her throat, returning to the present company. "According to my brother, it took him a while to get where he is."

"And yet, he's there." Flash took a deep breath. "Y'know... he's a real level-headed stallion, Twilight. Cool... calm... collected... handsome and ambitious..."

"... ... ....?" Twilight squinted daggers at Flash.

Flash blinked at her. "What?"

"Are... you trying to hook me up with your other you?"

"Huh?! No! I was just..." Flash grimaced in mid-sentence. "Shit on a stick... I kinda was, wasn't I?"

"It's okay, Flash," Twilight waved a dismissive hoof and made for the end of the hallway. "I'm not even remotely taking it seriously."

With a melancholic stoop, he eventually followed her. "Do you think that's ever gonna change?"

She had no immediate reply.

"Er... not that I'm trying to imply that if you don't get matched up with a Flash Sentry then you somehow don't have a hope with anypony... I was just meaning to say that... that..." He face-hoofed, groaning. "Eughhh... never mind..."

"No, it's okay." Twilight shrugged in mid-trot. "It's just... not very important to me at the moment."

"Well... cool." Flash nodded. "Seriously, that's pretty cool."

"You sound remarkably relieved."

"You gotta remember..." He finally caught up with her. "...my memory of you is a lost young woman looking everywhere for help in a strange world." His nostrils flared as he stared ahead. "I guess I... fixated a bit too much on that."

"You think?"

He rolled his eyes. "What I'm trying to say is that all the stuff I once perceived about you... I had kinda adopted for myself." He gazed down at the floor. "It's... so damn easy to bet all our chips on one single solution... one saving grace..."

"That's why it's so important to keep an open mind, Flash," Twilight said. "'Love' is a complicated thing. Even Cadance can't fully explain it to me. We'll never truly know how it'll choose to manifest itself towards us... or if it can even save us to begin with. If you ask me—it's best not to be obsessed with it."

"Yeah." Flash nodded. "I get that now."

She looked at him. "It's okay to not 'get it' either, Flash. To admit that there's still so much left to learn."

"You really think I'm that broken? Still?"

She bit her lip. "You want the truth?"

He winced slightly. "I think I just got it. Regardless."

"Well, here it is, anyways." She scuffled to a stop and turned to face him. "Go to your friends, Flash. The ones you've made here in Equestria. Let them help you put the pieces back together." She smiled. "Maybe they'll even find pieces to you that you never knew you had."

"And what if that doesn't fix me?" He looked up at her with sad eyes. "What if friendship is no shinier a silver bullet than love?"

The princess shrugged. "It hasn't let me down yet."

Flash could have said something to that, but he didn't.

She hesitated at first... but eventually reached out to caress his muzzle. A fragile smile passed between them. "It was... nice bumping into you."

He gazed at her.

Twilight Sparkle gazed as well. And then she turned.

And she was gone.

Brothers

Flash Sentry stepped outside.

He squinted into the glow of the Crystal Heart.

When his eyes adjusted, two immediate figures came into focus beyond the line of crystal soldiers guarding the Palace entrance.

They turned to face him. Captain Spitfire—with her burning, peering eyes.

And Soarin, with his gasping muzzle. "Dude! You're out—!" He almost leapt across the courtyard, but he froze—anchored by a wince. He looked aside at Spitfire.

Spitfire continued glaring in Flash's direction.

The teenage stallion's features drooped. Like a guilty puppy, he trotted down the steps and towards where the two Wonderbolts were standing in wait.

Spitfire regarded him with a leering gaze.

Flash came to a stop before her.

After a pregnant pause, Spitfire rasped: "So... parasol pigeon here tells me that you're actually a talking nerd monkey from another world... masquerading around in horse's clothing."

Flash blinked. He looked at Soarin and mouthed: "Nerd???"

Soarin shrugged with a nervous smile.

Spitfire blocked Flash's view of the stallion. "All this time... you were lying to me and the rest of the ponies on board Commander Typhoon's ship?"

Flash gulped. He stood straight and tall. "Y-yeah..." His ears twitched. "Pretty much."

"... ... ..." Spitfire cocked her head to the side. "You know how close I came to delivering a cross-dimensional saboteur to the Crystal Empire's doorstep?"

Flash's brow furrowed. "Not close at all. Cuz I totally wasn't anything remotely close to that."

Soarin glanced nervously between them.

"... ... ..." Spitfire sighed. "You're absolutely right. In fact... under my watch... you somehow improved the state of Equestria by about five hundred percent."

"Heheh... yeah..." Flash smiled weakly. "Funny how the cookie crum—"

"THAT." Spitfire stared him in his face, snarling. "Is the only reason I don't have your balls stapeled to the gates of Tartarus!" She blew Flash's bangs into his eyes and stepped back. "You'll do well to remember that."

"Uhhhh... yes..." Flash nervously brushed his bangs clean. "Yes ma'am."

Spitfire was trotting away on clopping hooves. She stopped at one point and glanced over her shoulder. "By the way... sissy-saddles here is looking really bright-eyed and bushy-tailed as of late."

"Uhhhhhhh..." Flash blinked. "What, you mean Soarin?"

"Who else?" Spitfire's muzzle scrunched. "Been ages since I've last seen him this enthusiastic about anything." She exhaled. "...guess I might be having to look for a new wingpony soon."

Flash blinked. He looked at Soarin, then back at Spitfire. "I... uh... I'm sorry to hear that."

"Not as sorry as I am that nopony said anything about it sooner. So... just like I said two farts ago..." She glanced back, and there was a glint of something in her eyes that pierced harder than a smirk. "Your balls are safe, kid." Fwoooosh! And she disappeared amidst the starlight.

Flash bit his lip.

Soarin quietly crossed the distance between them. "Hey there, bro..."

Flash looked at him. "Did..." His ears drooped. "Did you decide to—?"

"No decision's made yet," Soarin said. "But... yeahhhhh..." He looked up into the air where Spitfire was last seen. "She knows." A gulp. "I'm guessing she's known for a long... long time."

"Yeah, well..." Flash looked down at his hooves. "...knowing isn't everything."

"Tell me about it."

Silence.

"So..." Soarin leaned in with a hopeful smile. "How did it go?"

Flash lifted his gaze.

"With Girl Number Two..." Soarin whispered. "She was Girl Number Two, right?"

Flash swallowed. "We talked..."

"And?"

"...that's it."

Soarin blinked. "I mean... are you in or are you out?"

"Huh?"

Soarin bit his lip, fidgeting, avoiding the inevitable hinge: "Are they forcing you to go back home or—?"

"Nopony's forcing me to do anything."

"So..." Soarin's feathertips fluttered as his eyes widened. "...you're staying?"

"... ... ..."

"You're remaining here in Equestria, bro? Or..." He glanced up at the absence of Spitfire again, his ears drooping somewhat. "Or are you choosing to—?"

"Where are the others?" Flash asked.

"Huh?"

"Y'know..." Flash gestured. "Octavia. The Cakes. Miss Bubblelicious..."

"They're down in the banquet hall," Soarin replied. "Cleaning up. Chilling... ... ...Waiting. Why? Ready to see them?"

Flash hung his head. He eventually nodded.

Soarin blinked. He then put on a brotherly smile. "Come on, dude." He held a hoof over Flash's shoulder and slowly led him towards one of the corner stairwells. "I'd say it's about time, don't you?"

Flash... nodded again. The two proceeded quietly under starlight.

Free

Mr. and Mrs. Cake were stacking up the last of several dishes onto a rolling cart. They marched down a length of tables and gathered whatever was left behind by the Equestrian patrons.

As the final batch of musicians packed up their instruments and left the front stage of the Banquet Hall, Vinyl Scratch and Octavia Melody worked together on disassembling DJ-P0N3's turntable. After checking in on them, Lyra Heartstrings descended from the platform and joined Bon Bon in sweeping up a corner of the large chamber.

Off in the distance, Filthy Rich and Fancy Pants held a quiet conversation over half-empty martinis. Neither seemed rather thirsty at the moment. A few spaces over, Derpy Hooves continued packing several rows of decorations into a large crystalline container.

There was a loud, pronounced creak, followed by the clopping of hooves that echoed up and down the chamber.

Everypony froze what they were doing. With perked ears, they looked over, their eyes narrowing... then widening.

Soarin trotted slowly into the room. He was accompanied by a lowly yellow-orange figure. Flash Sentry lifted his head, and the dim lighting of the once-crowded area caught the glint of his ocean blue mane.

Everyone stayed still—everyone except for Derpy. With a happy grin, she flew across the way and almost tackled Flash with a hug.

"Heeeeeeey! Mister Bard!" She gave him a sisterly nuzzle and leaned back, eyes aimed at either side of his skull as she smiled wide. "They let you out!"

"Yes, Miss Hooves." Flash Sentry nodded. "They let me out." He bit his bottom lip.

Derpy blinked. Her smile faded. She looked curiously at Soarin.

From afar, the rest of the ponies watched with tense breaths. Mr. and Mrs. Cake leaned against one another. Vinyl and Octavia craned their necks from up stage. Lyra and Bon Bon shuffled around the edge of multiple tables. At last, Fancy Pants and Filthy Rich shuffled closer, their eyes blank—yet tinged with the trace of worry.

Soarin looked at the group, then at Flash. He arched an eyebrow and motioned slightly with his head.

Putting on a brave smile, Flash spoke to the group: "I talked with the Princesses. I... uh..." His smile faded as he sighed. "They're not forcing me to go anywhere."

Several ponies exhaled breaths of relief. The crowd ever so slowly gathered closer.

"I... uh... I wanna say I'm sorry for not being here when you needed me most," Flash said. "For when the festivities began. From what I hear, Soarin went above and beyond to oversee that everything went smoothely. That's pretty boss of him... and still super lame of me..."

"Oh Brad..." Bon Bon shook her head with a soft smile.

"It's quite fine, ol' chap." Fancy Pants winked behind his monocle.

"You still saved the day for everypony here in the Empire!" Filthy said. "From what I hear, Blueblood's still hostin' the Hawkeye Pack and makin' them feel right at home!"

"Still... all of this was very uncool of me," Flash said.

"Why would you say that?" Lyra asked, eyes narrowing. "You gave us all the chance to prove ourselves!"

"She's right, dear!" Mrs. Cake smiled hopefully. "Carrot here and I have already given our names out to over a dozen hosts who would love to benefit from our catering services!"

"That's right-indeedy!" Mr. Cake grinned. "And the music here was a real knee-slapper! You should have heard Miss Melody and Miss Scratch playing some of your well-chosen tunes!"

Flash sighed, gazing down at the floor. "I really wish I could have been here with you guys."

"You're the reason we were assembled in the first place to facilitate this event," Octavia said from the stage. "In a way, Brad, you were here with us."

Flash looked at her. With a deadpan expression, he murmured, "My name's not Brad."

Octavia didn't flinch, nor did she interject.

The teenager continued. "It's Flash Sentry. And... in case you're all worried..." He turned to look at the group at large. "I'm not a changeling. But..." He fidgeted. "...I'm not a pony either."

The Cakes exchanged glances.

Fancy Pants stroked his chin in quite contemplation.

"But... if you're not a pony, Mr. Bard..." Derpy blinked, standing nervously closer to Soarin. "...then what are you?"

"I'm a human... from a place called Earth... my Earth, a world beyond a magical portal in Princess Twilight's castle basement. It... it's all super hard to explain. But—I promise you—I'm not dangerous. I couldn't even harm you guys if I wanted to. But... still... I wasn't being honest with you all this time. And that's totally not cool." He took a breath, gazing past them. "I like to think that I was more concerned with what I did than who I was... but that's no friggin' excuse. You all deserve better... all of you. It's because of you that the day's been saved. Not me. If I was honest from the beginning, then maybe... just maybe... I'd get to share in the fruits of your labor. But that simply hasn't been the case. The truth caught up to me... and... well... here I am now."

Silence.

Soarin glanced at the group, then back at Flash.

The teenager sighed, hanging his head.

There were hoofsteps. A gentle hoof tilted his chin up.

Flash found himself looking into a pair of amber eyes.

"You say your name is Flash Sentry?" Lyra asked.

Flash nodded. "Uh huh."

"Hmmmm... cool..." She smiled. "You deserve a last name. Besides... 'Brad' was pretty unexciting."

"Positively plebeian to boot," Octavia said with a knowing wink. Vinyl smiled behind her.

Derpy giggled while Filthy Rich let out a good chuckle.

"I... uh..." Flash squirmed where he stood. "I don't think you guys understand what I've done here."

"We understand plenty," Fancy Pants said with a proud smirk. "And we're just happy that you're free now, my boy."

The group collectively nodded their heads.

Soarin smirked at Flash.

And Flash...

...he gazed into the warmth and color that formed the whole lot of them. His smile was limp and his ears drooped but his voice was more alive than ever. "Yeah..." A slight shudder, pleasant and hopeful. "I'm free now."

Refreshing

Clink! Mrs. Cake placed a glass of water down on the table behind where Flash Sentry was sitting. "Sixteen?!" she remarked, her eyes wide.

"Uh huh..." Flash lifted the glass in his opposable wingfeathers and brought it to his lips. A refreshing sip later, he exhaled. "Ngh... does it show?"

"Well... honestly..." Mrs. Cake exchanged blinking expressions with her spouse, then looked at Flash again. "No! It doesn't!"

"Figured you were just another adult stallion passing on through," Carrot Cake added. "But we had no idea you were that young on the other side of... uhhhh..."

Flash shrugged. "Well..." He took another sip and placed the glass back down before leaning casually into his seat. "...maybe some of the magic in hopping over changes stuff up a bit."

"Like how do you mean, my boy?" Fancy Pants asked. He, Filthy, Lyra, Bon Bon, and the rest of the group had formed a loose circle—utilizing chairs and stools dragged over from all across the banquet hall. "Do you think you become older when you make this... trans-dimensional passage?"

"Maybe? I dunno." Flash shrugged. "I certainly don't feel older."

"Coulda fooled me." Soarin sat on a chair beside him. He smirked. "Until you opened your mouth."

Derpy giggled.

Flash rolled his eyes. "Sorry for being a decade less than you."

"Dude..." Soarin squinted. "A decade?"

"Well, am I wrong?"

"... ... ..."

Derpy looked at Soarin.

"I'm... uhhh..." Soarin cleared his throat. A sly smirk. "...well-traveled."

Derpy giggled again.

"A lot of things make sense," Octavia spoke, trotting over from the stage along with Vinyl, having finished packing their instruments. "In hindsight, of course." Vinyl floated two chairs over and the two mares sat down. "Such sharp memory and an almost religious interest in music. Of course you're young in years."

Bon Bon arched an eyebrow. "How do you know all that?"

"Because our good Flash Sentry told me," Octavia said. "Along with his name and the nature of his being—to a degree." She looked across the way. "I trust that's no longer a secret."

"Eh..." Flash waved a hoof. "Screw it."

Lyra gasped. "You knew he was a monkey person the whole time?!"

"I felt it was best to keep the matter secret as an emotional confidant," Octavia calmly said. "And I do believe the term is 'homo sapien.'"

Lyra's muzzle scrunched. "What's the difference?"

Octavia adjusted her bow-tie casually. "It's a monkey that wears clothes."

Filthy Rich laughed. "What I wouldn't pay to see your kind in person, Bra—er... I mean Flash!"

"You are seeing his kind in person," Soarin said. "Just... y'know... the nerdiest, wimpiest crust of it."

Flash hit Soarin in the shoulder.

Soarin hit him back.

"Ow!" Flash winced, smiling crookedly as he rubbed his withers. "Gotta learn to horse-punch."

"Let's hope you never have to."

"In your dimension..." Bon Bon blinked, fighting confusion. "...to teenagers rule the world?"

"No, they just think they do," Flash droned. "Look—I know it sounds stupid. Maybe even made-up. But—honest to God—the portal opens up to a high school. Canterlot High School. And—like—we've got many of the same names for places and things as you ponies do. We've got a city called Canterlot. We have a Crystal Prep run by Principal Cadance. There's even an Everfree Forest. I've camped there before. Good rock-climbing."

"That's so bizarre..." Mrs. Cake blinked. "I wonder what could be the reason for such a place existing?"

"I would have said the same thing about Equestria, once," Flash remarked. "But... y'know... there's waaaaaaaay more to your world than I can even dream of at one glance. Same can be said about my place. I think all the naming stuff is just the surface of it. Why that's the way it is...?" Flash shrugged. "I don't know."

"At least there aren't other versions of us," Filthy Rich stated.

Flash bit his lip.

Filthy blinked. "There are?"

Fancy Pants leaned towards him. "How do you think our fine fellow got jailed, ol' chap? His Equestrian double is a 'guard' under Shining Armor!"

"Well I'll be..."

"They thought poor Flash was a changeling! Hah! Could you imagine?! The sower of Equestrian Unity—a changeling?!"

"He's cool though," Flash said. "The other me, that is. He's..." A gentle sigh as he stared off. "...he's got things together. What I wouldn't give to find a place like that."

"In your world..." Bon Bon began. "...do you know our doubles?"

"Our monkey doubles!" Lyra emphasized.

"Heheh... yeah..." Flash bore a genuine smile. "Some of you."

"You mean us? Really?"

"Uh huh." Flash nodded. "Most of you live in the town I'm from. A lot of you even go to my school."

"As teenagers?" Carrot Cake remarked.

"Erm..." Flash fidgeted slightly. "Not all of you."

"Oh."

Vinyl waved her hoof.

"Vinyl wants to know if you've met her... human self," Octavia asked.

"Heh..." Flash nodded. "Oh yeah. Vinyl's pretty... pretty cool in all dimensions."

Vinyl smirked.

Soarin leaned in. "Lemme guess, you used to date her."

"What? No!" Flash hissed.

"You sure?" Soarin waggled an eyebrow. "Was there a Girl One-Point-Five?"

"No there wasn't a Girl One-PointFive!" Flash turned red. "Now shut up or you'll get your Ass-Kicked-In-True-4k!"

"Hahahahaha... your threats are cuter when I don't understand them." He looked in Derpy's direction.

She was already finished with giggling. "Have you met me over there?"

"Uhhh... yeah, actually," Flash said with a nod. "I still have the burn mark on my shoulder."

"Your what?"

"Er... never mind."

Filthy Rich leaned forward in his seat, smiling innocently. "What am I like over there?"

Flash raised his hoof. "... ... ..." He lowered it. "Rich. Very rich."

"Woohoo! Looks like my father taught me right on both sides!"

"Heheheh..." Flash sank a bit in his seat. "...yeah."

"What about me?" Soarin asked.

"Eh... you're probably some old greasy janitor, mopping up a Wal-Mart restroom someplace."

"Ew... really?"

"Pffft. How the Hell should I know? I haven't met you!"

"Dude!"

Derpy laughed again, leaning over to give Soarin a side-hug.

Gathering

"Magic only exists in my world by accident," Flash Sentry explained. The banquet hall was silent as the intimate circle of friends leaned on his every word. "We exist in a society based on technology and resource management. I'm... no economy major, but—suffice to say—greed and hunger got us to where we are now. Our greatest achievements have been through sciences—be they applied or social. It's... ended up with most of the world in a pretty cruddy place. Me? I'm lucky to have been born into one of the cultures that's... well... we're not stewing in war and garbage half the time, for what it's worth. Well, a lot of us aren't. Other places in the world..." He shrugged, his eyes scraping the floor. "...they're a lot worse off. A lot of them are suffering because of us or because of others like us... but that's a super long and depressing conversation."

"So... ... ..." Carrot Cake's eyes narrowed. "It's not at all like Equestria?"

Flash slowly shook his head. "No."

"You can't fix your problems with magic?" Derpy asked, blinking in opposite direction. "There're no spells to clean up all the trash or weather fliers to keep the skies clear?"

"I wish it were that easy," Flash said. "But...I kid." His eyes rolled. "I'm pretty sure that if we actually did get ahold of magic, then we'd only find ways to use it to exploit each other."

"My word...!" Fancy Pants cleaned off his monocle. "Sounds like the griffons at the height of their warmongering age!"

"I'm gonna pretend you're on point with that," Flash droned. "Long story short—I don't know what the future holds in store for my world... what with magic spreading faster and faster through the portal."

"Did you say 'through the portal?'" Cup Cake remarked.

"Uh huh." Flash nodded. "A whole lotta crap has gone through there. Princess Twilight's crown went through—and... uh... it turned someone into a she-demon who tried to command an army of zombies."

"HAH!" Lyra smiled. Upon receiving many glares, she shrank in her seat, ears folding. "S-sorry..."

"Nah, it's okay. It's dumb." Flash cleared his throat. "Let's see... a bunch of geodes ended up in the Everfree Forest and it allowed a counselor to go full Poison Ivy Psycho on the campers." He eyed the ceiling as he thought aloud. "There was the time the fabric of reality almost broke because of the magic unleashed by the Crystal Preppers. Then there was that crazy girl at the mall with the screwy mirror. Oh! The Sirens! Can't forget them!"

"Sirens?" Octavia remarked.

"Ancient creatures who controlled people through hypnotic singing... I guess. Yeah... they nearly took over the high school during the Battle of the Bands. From what I recall, they affected me too. I was a real douchebag that week. My god..."

"I find that hard to believe," Soarin said.

"Magic, bro. It just... corrupts in my world, sorry to say."

"Where the Sirens come from?" Bon Bon remarked. "They're legendary beings of ancient sea magic—and that doesn't sound like something that happens naturally in your world."

"I remember asking my friends about it once," Flash said. "Erm... my world's equivalent of... of..." Flash fidgeted in his seat.

"The Council of Friendship," Soarin explained. "Princess Twilight and her companions."

"Right. Them."

"You have Princess Twilight in your world?" Derpy asked.

"Not... quite..." Flash exhaled. "But they do save the day a lot over there, so they're just as important." A sly grin. "And awesome."

"Soooooooo..." Bon Bon cocked her head to the side. "They defeated the sirens?"

"Yeah. But with Princess Twilight's help. Turns out the sirens were banished to my world ages ago by some dude named... Star Wars the Bimbo?"

"Starswirl the Bearded," Octavia corrected.

"Right. Him."

"That's... rather distressing," Fancy Pants remarked. "From the sound of it, your world's been used as an interdimensional prison for creatures too dangerous to be housed in Tartarus."

"No wonder everything there is so messed up!" Filthy Rich exclaimed.

Vinyl Scratch nodded.

"It's..." Flash gently shook his head. "...it's not Starswirl's fault. Or any monster's, for that matter."

"Isn't it, though?"

"Trust me." Flash sighed, rubbing both sides of his head with his fetlocks. "Nghhh... my world didn't need crazy magic to be garbage."

"It can't be all terrible, though!" Derpy exclaimed. "After all, it gave us you!"

"Yeah!" Lyra nodded, smiling. "There's gotta be more poni—er... humans like you over there!" Her tail flicked enthusiastically. "Maybe the magic that works in your world is the kind that can't be contained by a spell!"

"Heh..." Flash smiled rosily. "It's really swell to hear someone say that. But... uhm..."

"Your music is certainly to die for," Octavia remarked. "Speaking hyperbolically, of course."

Vinyl Scratch nodded fervently.

"Oooh! Oooh!" Lyra hopped in place. "Could you play us some more tunes?"

"Now's..." Flash squirmed. "...not really a good time for that, don't you think?"

"Flash, my boy..." Fancy Pants smiled. "We've been waiting a long time to make sure something good came of you after that dreadful arrest."

"I sure as sugar ain't going to bed anytime soon!" Cup Cake plugged with an uppity laugh.

"Dude..." Soarin leaned in. "...you've got yourself an audience. Bask."

Flash sighed... ultimately shrugging. "Fine. But I'm not doing Coldplay. You guys deserve better."

"Sweet! Lemme get you some strings—" Lyra bounded out of her chair so quickly she tripped and fell on her chest. "D'oh!" In a blink, she was back up and galloping. "Heehee! If only we could build a campfire indoors!"

Bon Bon face-hoof'd.

Tuning

Leaning forward in his chair, Flash Sentry casually plucked away at an acoustic guitar with the tips of his wingfeathers. While he could pick up the instrument's tabulature without much issue, it was still an awkward affair, and the teenager knew that he wasn't performing at his best. Nevertheless, the tunes he improvised were bearable, and the group of ardent listeners gathered around him hardly seemed fazed.

"I always say..." Lyra teetered playfully in her seat, smiling foalishly. "A little bit of lyre-plucking is tremendously therapeutic." A slight squirm. "I... don't know if that translates over into guitar, but..."

"Oh, it translates alright," Flash murmured, staring intently at the job his wingtips were accomplishing—or trying to. "I just... don't particularly know what to play for you guys."

"Play anything," Soarin said. "Or nothing." A shrug. "We're just here to chill."

Flash exhaled, his eyes narrowing. "Here to chill..." A slight curl to his lips. "Y'know, I was always into doing metal guitar."

"Oh yeah?"

"But somehow... rockin' out doesn't exactly seem like me anymore," Flash slurred. "Nowadays... feels like all I wanna do is silly indie alternative emo nonsense."

"Uhhhhhh..." Soarin's brow furrowed. "What does that sound like?"

"Death Cab for Cutie."

"What???"

Flash stifled a chuckle. "Exactly."

"Did you perform for lots of pon—er... humans back in your world, Mr. Flash?" Carrot Cake asked, listening intently.

"Oh. Not a lot." Flash shrugged, careful not to loose his awkward equine grip of the guitar. "We were just a garage band, really. Going nowhere. Dreaming big—but without the tiaras."

"'We?'" Octavia tilted her head aside. "So you were part of an ensemble?"

Flash breathed thoughtfully. His mind drifted to Kyle. Chris. Hank. A flying fist. Blood in his mouth. "Yeah. Long ago. Or... it feels like long ago, now." Flash's ears twitched. "Guess I won't be performing with them ever again." After that... his ears drooped slightly. "Then again, I won't be performing for anybody ever again."

"Awwwwwwww..." Cup Cake bore a motherly smile. "Well, dear, you could most certainly perform for everypony here!"

"Heh..." Flash looked up from his strumming with a dull smile. "I'm not really what you'd call a 'prodigy.'"

Vinyl Scratch shrugged.

"So?" Octavia translated.

"It was just a hobby to pass the time. I'm not stage material," Flash said. "And the only reason I've been able to wow anypony is because of the library of stuff that I know... the library from back home." He gulped. "I can't write songs to save my own skin... er... fuzz."

"Well, that seems like as good as any place to start!" Fancy Pants declared. "You could travel Equestria—my boy! Spreading your esteem knowledge of otherworldly music far and wide!"

Flash's brow furrowed. "You're talking about some sort of 'Earth Music Showcase Tour?'"

"Most assuredly!" Fancy Pants served up a cheeky smile. "Sounds absolutely smashing! Wouldn't you agree?"

"Fancy..." Filthy leaned in. "Don't pressure the boy into public appearances too soon. He's still trying to adjust to Equestria."

"Smashed tea cups to that!" Fancy Pants adjusted his collar. "I'd say seize the day! You're quite obviously in your element when charging straight on, Mr. Sentry, good sir!" A confident smile. "And I'm certain that many wealthy delegates of Equestria would like to have the 'Unifier of the Crystal Empire' as their guest!"

"Heehee!" Derpy Hooves pumped a hoof into the air. "Sky trip!"

"Sounds snazzy to me," Soarin said with a smile.

"If... if that's something you'd be seriously considering... uhm..." Bon Bon squirmed where she sat. "...I don't suppose you'd like your very own private distributor of concessions?"

"Oh Bon Bon." Lyra rolled her eyes. "Give him time to think about it!"

"Sorry. Was just trying to seize the moment myself..."

"Yeah. No doiiii."

Ponies chuckled.

Flash breathed in and out, strumming lazily to produce a tranquil harmony. "I... certainly wouldn't mind seeing all that this world has to offer."

"Gotta give Fancy Pants credit," Filthy Rich added with a smile. "It would definitely be mind-expanding."

"Probably would be benefitting me more than any of the poor chucklefudges I'd be performing for," Flash droned.

"Well, have you ever performed before an audience before?" Octavia asked.

"Uhhhhhhh... kinda?" Flash bit his bottom lip. "There was the Battle of the Bands. Then that one time at the Fall Fair. Oh... uhm... also my friend's girlfriend's sister's birthday party..." He glanced aside. "Former friend's ex-gilfriend's sister-in-law's birthday party..."

"Well, the first step, I suspect, is to get some practice in," Octavia said. "But be warned—not all ponies are warmly receptive as this bunch."

"Oh, no doubt."

"And while you've shown to have great knowledge in music, it would help to narrow it down..."

"I need to have a set."

"Precisely." Octavia nodded. "I'd say start with music you're exceptionally good at playing."

"Right..."

"I'd say play stuff that makes you feel happy!" Lyra smiled, cheeks rosy. "It always works with me!"

"... ... ..." Flash paused a bit, resting his wingtips. "...I don't know about happy music. But... uhm..." He took a solemn breath. "There has this one particular tune that's been weighing on my head over the last week or so."

"Now this I gotta here," Soarin stated.

"I... don't know if it can be accomplished via acoustic guitar."

"No time like the present to try it out."

"I'm serious, dude." Flash looked over at Soarin. "This could be a complete disaster."

"So was coming over here," Soarin said. "And look at how this turned out."

"It all starts with being willing to try, dear," Cup Cake said.

"Uh huh! Uh huh!" Derpy nodded to the walls of the place. "Even if you're going fall down a lot, it's worth it just to take off in the end!" She winked—one eye after the other—above a knowing smile. "Trust me! I know!"

Flash thought about it... then thought about it some more.

At last, he simply stopped thinking, and that's when he found the courage to try out the first few notes of the song.

"Okay, here goes." He repositioned himself in the chair, gripping the guitar tighter in his pegasus limbs. "But—be warned... I'm not good at falsetto."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Bon Bon asked.

"Maybe you'll find out really soon," Flash said. "Or maybe not."

Disappear

Author's Note

Disappear

Flash Sentry wasn't certain he could even capture the song's feeling with just an acoustic guitar performance. He felt naked and alone at the mere contemplation. Then again—he realized—that sort of a sensation made it perfect, and every time before that he had attempted the musical feat the teenager was by himself, absorbing his heart and soul into the slow, haunting, melancholic mantra that stretched the song into something of a dirge.

He knew better than to try and emulate the prodigy who first wrote the song—his trademark pitch and wailing tone—but to sing the piece any other way wouldn't be doing it justice. So he did his best, keeping things subtle for the most part, then giving his all with ghostly gusto when the song reached key points. Before he knew it, he was flowing down a river of sonic emotion, serenading those along the outer banks with a chorus fit for poultergeists.

The melody rocked back and forth, inviting sea sickness. Flash held his lunch in by vomiting out his vocal chords instead. He swayed with the tune—rocking himself almost to sleep. His lungs vibrated, and that sensation alone reminded him that he was real, despite every word and lyric of the song trying to convince him otherwise. Somehow, he found equilibrium, much like he had before on lone bus rides home when he used to sing this to himself... or hallowed nights of hiding under the sheets, wishing that dust, duvets, and darkness could somehow insulate him from the pounding resonance of his parents yelling at each other.

There was something divinely selfish about the song... necessarily silly, foolish, and hollow. He knew that the music's only poignance was in its emotion—and emotion wasn't everything. And yet—for every attempt he had made before in his life to totally and completely vanish by absorbing himself in this music, he could now savor the irony of exhaling the anthem in the afterglow of actually having successfully achieved such a goal. In a way, it should have been a victory song... but it somehow left Flash feeling wanting... as if he was eulogizing the loss of triumph and accomplishment for having become the pariah of his high school dreams. Here he was so many untold dimensional firmaments away from his troubles, performing with the same wingtips that allowed him to fly so far from home, and yet he knew deep inside that the magical horse people listening to his jettisoned soul wouldn't be able to fully understand the implications of his mileage.

It was indeed very much like a dream. And the problem with most dreams is that there would come a time when Flash would hve to wake up, and the distance flown wouldn't seem all that very grand after all. Part of him wanted to lie to himself, to continue the song forever, but that would be even more selfish. At some point, he had to touch down—if not for himself, then for those around him. Being nothing but self-serving in his flight was starting to leave him feeling exhausted, fatigued. Perhaps the song helped him feel a bit deflated, so that he could recollect the breath in his lungs and appraise the situation at a new angle.

Whatever the case, when the final melodic wail had left his throat and he strummed the last few notes of the guitar, he arrived softly at his destination. His insides shook; he felt cold, vulnerable, and more than a little bit silly.

The unexpected applause of his audience clothed him, and he breathed with meager warmth as he recovered from the very last lunge of his journey.

"Pretty!" Lyra Heartstrings chirped, throwing glitter on Flash's tender heart. "That was very pretty!"

"I'm inclined to agree," Fancy Pants said, finishing his applause.

"Gotta admit..." Filthy Rich shifted where he sat. "Not quite what I expected."

"Sounded..." Carrot Cake's brow furrowed. "...very sad." The baker sensed several eyes on him. "In a g-good way!"

"Yeah, bro." Soarin nodded, glancing aside at Flash. "Feels like you poured a lot of you into that."

Flash smiled crookedly, hugging the guitar to his fuzzy chest. "I didn't write it, dude."

"You know what I mean."

Flash shrugged.

Derpy Hooves raised her left hoof like an anxious elementary school student in the front row.

Flash nodded at her. "Yes, ma'am? You with the golden hair?"

Derpy lowered her hoof and squirmed guiltily in her seat. "I didn't understand all of the words."

"Uhm..." Bon Bon's muzzle scrunched. "Me neither."

"Hah..." Flash chuckled slightly, gazing down at the floor. "Yeah... well... that's Radiohead for ya. Picking most of their words randomly from a hat."

"O.. kay...?"

"I guess it's more in the emotion than the actual lyrics," Flash mumbled. "What it conveys in feeling more than meaning."

"I understood quite a lot of it," Octavia said matter-of-factly.

Flash squinted across the way from her. "Somethings tells me—back in my world—you'd be a huge Oasis fan."

"Right. Whatever that means." Octavia cleared her throat and spoke, "It sounds like a meditation gone wrong. You keep repeating to yourself: 'I'm not here. This isn't happening.' Then you surrender yourself to the sway of the music, harmonizing desperately until your voice is practically sobbing." She leaned her head to the side. "Something tells me that what the dreamer wishes is already known to be false. In the end... you're not entirely succeeding, are you?"

Flash Sentry swallowed a lump down his throat. He gazed across the banquet hall. "No... I suppose not..."

"Well, that's one way to interpet it," Cup Cake said.

"Indeed." Octavia nodded. "Still, all-in-all, it was very pretty... in a haunting way."

"Yeah..." Flash exhaled, eyes searching. Scraping. Excavating. "Very pretty for as long as it lasts." He cleared his throat and glanced at Octavia again. "You should hear the backup strings used in the original studio version of the song. It's absolute nightmare fuel."

"I'm... not sure I want to hear a scarier version of that song," Derpy said, shivering a bit.

"Ah come on..." Soarin chuckled. "It wasn't that awful—"

"I wouldn't describe it as 'awful,'" Derpy remarked. "Just... chilling." She gave Flash a sad look. "Who would ever feel the need to sing such a song? You must be very lonely where ou come from, Mr. Bard."

Flash wasn't certain which element to deal with first: Derpy's arrowhead accuracy with that statement or her fallback to using the surrogate nickname. In either way, the moment left him feeling just as two dimensional as the performance he had just given.

"Lonely... alone..." His ears drooped. "...I had every opportunity to reach out and make friends... to afford myself a support group." He shook his head. "But I never went for it. I denied myself it. I came over to this world instead... to escape the very notion of fixing myself."

"But why?" Derpy asked, her eyes sincere and warm in their aimless searching. Flash felt that he had seen that expression before—sans the innocence—in many a lonely, tearless gaze into his own bathroom mirror. "Why would you just... leave like that? Why try and disappear?"

"Because..." Flash grimaced. "... ... ...because everything back home is just so unbearably toxic." He shuddered. "And I couldn't stand it anymore... nor could I own up t-to the fact that I-I had contributed to that very cesspool."

The ponies around him leaned in compassionately.

"In what way, dear?" Cup Cake asked.

Reluctantly, Flash Sentry shut his eyes, throwing himself back into the shadowed hallways and sun-bleached streets of the world he once knew... or thought he knew. And—at the risk of growing nauseous—he forced himself to count the stains...

Scarlet

"I only know so much about your world. From where I'm looking, I see that you ponies have it made. You're thoughtful... considerate of one another... communal and altruistic and sharing. Maybe—perhaps—things weren't always sunshine and rainbows for Equestria. But you've obviously put a lot of that behind you. It... it's very easy to do good things here. That cannot be denied... because you're all just so receptive to goodness... to neighborly acts of kindness and stuff. It's like adding warmth to warmth... the toastiness gets magnified... the smiles increase. Real heavenly awesomeness. I dig it.

"Back home? Mmmmmm... not so much. You do something good—super good—and people will either look at you strange or take advantage of it. I mean... sure... people become heroes and nice individuals are honored for their positive legacies and stuff. But that's usually either a footnote in the textbook for fifteen seconds of distraction on Twitter before you get into the real meat of living: misery and conflict in all of its juiciness. Anger, contention, conflict—it's in our blood. Human blood, I mean. Sure, things were worse for civilization once... but that's like comparing a mountain of garbage to a hill of trash. It all still smells. Things are always bad somewhere... someplace... and it's only getting smellier.

"We constantly say positive and optimistic and well-meaning things to one another... but that's only when we can afford it. When the room's been filtered so that it only houses the people who don't want to kill each other. When we're all colored the same... or dressed the same... or voting the same. If you take an actual random scoop of the population, shake it all up in a jar, and let it sit... there won't be much of anything left within a damn hour. I can promise you that. Not unless the glass breaks, and then we'll just be pointing fingers at each other and denying any responsbility for ruining jar in the first place.

"I live in a jar that's been resting on the top shelf for generations... but that's only because of sheer luck, an abundance of resources, and our joining bloody conflicts at the very last second or when it has appeared safest for our own precious hides. Yes, we've had courageous and heroic souls who won us an ounce of our freedom, but we also had to murder a whole lot of people to get us to where we are now. So what if not all of them were 'innocent?' Murder is still murder. A word means a whole lot more or a whole lot less once you realize that the victors of history hold the dictionary. Today, we like to praise our peace-keepers and make national holidays after champions of civil rights and suffrage, but our society was built on slavery and genocide and—from the look of things—we're still profiting from the same old shit; we just write different words for it in our rusty ol' dictionary, and tomorrow there'll be new words for even newer atrocities that we've yet to imagine, but in our hearts we've already condoned them for the ease they'll afford a strategic few of us.

"And while we rest easy on high, we wage little wars—wars that we feel confident in winning from the bunkers of anonymity and heartlessness, pretending to care about things that only matter to those who can actually eat and shit comfortably with ample showers in between. Meanwhile, in the furthest parts of the globe—or even right across the railroad tracks—there are people stuck so friggin' deep in poverty and destitution that they spend all their days worrying about whether or not they can feed themselves or if their infants can live through the winter or if they can walk to school without being bombed, raped, or both. What would they know or care about re-blogs, gas mileage, BOGO sales at Wal-Mart or Taylor Swift's ex-boyfriend or the fine art of cussin' out the cable repairman until he can make the magical box in your living room spit out Game of Thrones on time?

"There're just... too many horrible things in the world to be appalled at. In one part of the globe, you've got married couples being refused a wedding cake on account of their genitalia. And, like, that sucks ass... but then you've also got genocidal ethnic purging going on at the same time in South Asia... or women being mutilated in Africa on account of their religion...or thousands of poor farmers being relocated to make room for a dam or an Olympic park or a highway. And when you live in this world—what do you choose to be shocked at the most? No single person is any more or less worth caring for than the other, so do you pick tackling the smaller injustice because it's right in front of you? Or the huge massacre because it's so easy to identify? Or maybe you just... choose to ignore the really big and horrible things because they're so damn hard to fix without risking a conflict that would wipe out far more people than could live long enough to witness the result of such an intervention? I mean... when did ethics become a matter of affordability over righteousness?

"And it's not like there arent people who want to make things right. People will protest in favor of the married couples who are being mistreated and they will use mass communication to raise awareness of genocide and mutilation and they will throw sanctions at countries that mistreat their own populace... but when has that ever mattered in the long run? If only to give us some frivolous, imagined pat on the back while the powers that be continue to shape the world into something unfair, selective, and selfish? People want change, but they're unwilling to change. For the latter to be accomplished, far more blood would have to be shed and bodies would have to be sacrificed to alter the flow of money, politics, and resources down the wide canal of least resistance. And everyone knows this. Which is why so many people only climb halfway... then settle for the sensation of accomplishment but not the real thing. Those who benefit from the toxicity will maintain it, taking advantage of those who think they're accomplishing change, but really aren't.

"And the bulk of us... the true majority of human beings living on a lopsided planet will do what we're most good at... what all of us are truly excelled at, even if we pretend that we're not.

"And that most practiced and refined of human talents is ambivalence."

Wash

"'Ambivalence?' What do you mean?"

"He means that most humans don't know enough to care, Bon Bon."

"No, I mean that most of us don't care enough to know. And—in some twisted way—that makes it perfectly okay for us to just... sit down and let the world go to ruin."

"Surely it can't be that horrible, my boy. If you're any indication of your kind, Mr. Flash, then I've no doubt that there's enough altruism to fix all the problems in your beleaguered world."

"Oh, but there is. That's the problem, Fancy Pants. We know that we can fix the world. We know that it's not too late to stop global warming or to cure cancer or to feed the hungry. We just don't care to go through with the full effort. Sure, we afford ourselves a scant few tributaries to ferry the resources we can afford to part with—that we can live in luxury without—but those who are willing to sacrifice everything to get the actual job done are far too few to count, and most of them with bright heads to show off are likely hollow to the core. At our best, we compartmentalize the necessary tasks into a sinfully minimized allotment of charities and missions. We invent ideas for the sole sake of maintaining themselves in name only, without bothering to trace every angle that the dollar or blood or seed flows. And when we feel an inkling of failure, we stave off the guilt by putting our faith in icons—both made-up and half-real—who'll manifest within us the heartfelt illusion of having agency in ethics and good samaritanism. Then—when the hypocrisy scratches at our inner conscience—we lean on the oldest mortal caveat in the book: that somehow and in some way there will 'always be time' to fix things in the future... that 'tomorrow' will bring about the real change when we keep forsaking the ever-fleeting now... now... now..."

"Sweet Celestia. That sounds horrible..."

"Even the most horrible things become 'normal' when you live with it every day. When you adopt it like your next breath."

"Flash, are you certain you're not just being... being...?"

"'Emo?'"

"Poetic, Mr. Soarin. But the word I was looking for is 'arbitrary'. If I may be so bold, Flash, you've been experiencing what one could seemingly call an emotional drought rife with introspective loneliness. Are you certain that this wold-view isn't simply a projection of your own ill-plagued self-esteem?"

"That's not bold at all, Octavia. And you're not wrong. I've been living in such a low place that—sure—it's easy to assume that I'm just obsessing with hyperbole. But the time of madness has come and gone. My mania ended cold turkey the very moment my other self threw me in jail. Tell me, Miss Melody, have you Equestrians ever heard of the concept of 'baptism?'"

"I can't say that we have, good sir."

"It's a religious idea. You can probably tell I haven't been much of a religious type in my human life. But... now... I-I think that might be starting to change."

"How so, Mr. Bard...?"

Snow

"What does it mean to be reborn? Or to be born again? To... like... metamorphosize from what you were into something greater. Something on a higher level? Caterpillars into butterflies and shit?

"When I was a kid, my parents were obviously juggling multiple botched ways to raise me while also yelling-the-shit out of each other. So, at one point, they had the bright idea of putting me intp Sunday School. What's Sunday School? I won't go into crazy detail, cuz I don't see how it friggin' matters over here in horseland. But—needless to say—I was briefly inundated with a whole bunch of traditional proverbs and thoughts at an elementary school level. They were meant to steer me along a righteous path towards redemption and spiritual fulfillment, which is cool, I guess.

"And... and I remember being taught about 'baptism.' Lots of cultures believe in it, mostly Christian cultures. It's a ritual someone goes through to display before witnesses that he or she is willing to make a transcendent change in their life... that they are willing to undergo a spiritual cleansing and come out the other side transformed... converted... healed... whatever.

"Anyways, this ritual typically meant being dunked in water. I'm talking like a river bank or a baptismal pool or... or... whatever the heck it is that Mormons use. Sorry, I'm rambling again. Anyways...

"...I used to think to myself—as a kid, mind you—that it all seemed so stupidly simple. And easy. I mean—sure—maybe that's the draw of it. Lots of people who believe in baptism are keen on getting people to do it, because... I guess there's some invisible scoreboard for winning souls in heaven or whatever. I don't know. I'm sure there's a lot more complicated stuff to it, but back in Sunday school I couldn't get past how silly and basic it looked on the surface. I secretly told myself—and maybe this is what they really wanted me to do in my head without managing to convey it—that a baptism... a true baptism had to involve a whole hell of a lot more sacrifice... that there had to be some pain and anguish involved with getting rid of your old self... of peeling the former skin away and revealing your sensitive, vulnerable, beating soul underneath.

"That struck a cord with me. And I couldn't... like... think my way out of this ironclad box that I had made for my mind... and soul. So when my Sunday School teachers asked me if I wanted to get myself baptized someday, I straight-up told them 'no.' They probably thought I was just trolling them... or perhaps I was an honest-to-God hellbent devil in sheep's clothing. But truth is, I didn't believe in myself enough to think I could actually go through with such a change. I mean, who could? And who ever really thinks about it? Like, truly actually weighs upon the concept with every inch of your soul? Like... do we even have souls? Are we more than the sum of all our collective actions? And—if we are, and somehow we could cleanse that nebulous loophole essence of ourselves—what does that say about the mark we leave in the footprint of time? Where do you separate one's goodness from one's do-goodness?

"I didn't stay at Sunday school long—for various reasons, mostly my parents' doing—but that sensation of confusion and self-doubt stuck with me for a very long time. I worried so much over agency and purpose that—at some point—I allowed laziness and ennui to reign supreme. I simply gave up on trying to accomplish anything whatsoever. I guided my life towards becoming an artist... a starving musician with nothing to give to this world but subjective creativity. I allowed a crazy powermongering soul to become my girlfriend and dominate my life because cowering to her bullshit day by day was still somehow less stressful than facing my own decisions and aspirations in the cold heart light of my own intuition.

"And after all of that—an entire young teenage life of just... floating around like a loser and deciding nothing... I was left alone. In the darkness. Without a foundation or a foothold or anything. And for a brief moment I figured that maybe... just maybe... taking the plunge into the cold cleansing waters that intimidated me since childhood would have yielded a far better, warmer, prouder fate. But I wasn't about to yield to any faith established by the creatures around me. I didn't believe in them anyways. They wore all the same skins as every saint or asshole I had ever known. No—any baptism, a true baptism—would rely on my own courage to dive in to something unknown... a future unfathomable... an ocean of promises but no guarantees.

"And... and I think that's what brought me here. I think that's what brought me to Equestria. It wasn't to frighten anyone back home. It wasn't to grab for attention. It wasn't to destroy myself or... or d-disappear.

"It was to see if I could transcend. If I could become better than the ambivalent pool of lost souls that I now look back on with nausea and regret. To see if I could find goodness... submerge myself in that... then emerge a changed creature. A better creature. Someone transformed—not in hooves and tails and manes—but in soul. In respect. In good will. And now... now I've gone through with it. I've made the plunge... almost drowned for a bit... and I've come out cold and shivering. And... and h-here I am, I guess."

... ... ...

"And do you feel that it's worked, Flash? Do you feel as though you've actually changed for the better?"

Sweat

"... ... ..." Flash Sentry stared dead ahead of him. There was no strength of conviction in his eyes as he scoured the furthest edges of the banquet hall. Instead, there flickered a childish desperation to find deep, shadowed corners and hide there forever.

While his eyes were guarded, his ears weren't. He heard Mrs. Cake repeat herself, "Don't you feel changed at all?"

Lyra Heartstrings interjected. "You've certainly done a lot of good for us here in Equestria!" An innocent smile shone in Flash's peripheral. "That has to count for something!"

Flash's ears folded—not to drown out Lyra's words, but to manage the pressure of the past suddenly weighing on his scalp. On his soul. On his very ability to breathe. Oxygen limped out of him in pitiful little squeaks. He felt cold, like a brisk draft was blowing through a car window and across his muzzle. His eyes twitched, envisioning street lamps looming cold and amber against the dead asphalt of a mostly-empty parking lot.

"Have I?" he finally murmured. "Have I really?" A bitter swallow. "Anybody could have waltzed in through the mirror and done the stuff that I did among you ponies... made the snazzy changes that I did."

"And..." Soarin leaned in. "...anybody could have come through and done a lot of horrible things, y'know." The Wonderbolt arched his eyebrow. "But you didn't. Don't be so quick to paint a cruddy picture of yourself, dude."

Flash stared back with glossy eyes. "It's not the horrible things that I have done, Soarin," he spoke in a fractured voice. "It's the things that I haven't done. The things I've refused to do. Every day. With every waking morning and damnable evening. I'm a coward. I've been a coward all my life."

"Considering where you've lived," Bon Bon said. "Isn't it somewhat understandable?"

"No!" he hissed at first. Trembling, he slumped forward in his seat and grasped his head in two fetlocks. "No no no no no no no no no no." He clenched his teeth, seething through them. "That's no excuse. It's never an excuse. Don't you get it? That's the problem. That's what will always be the problem. Rejecting the truth... rejecting my own part to play in adding to the shit pile..."

Octavia and Vinyl exchanged curious glances.

"What are you trying to say, Mr Flash?" Filthy Rich asked.

"What I'm trying to say..." Flash shuddered, tilting his head up with a pale expression. He fought for breath like a long-distance runner. Something loomed beyond the furthest crystalline walls of the place, and he was sailing towards it at a million miles an hour. His skin knew it, which is why the bulbs of sweat started to show. "...what I'm trying to say is that for all of my self-righteous preaching... I'm as hypocritical as it comes." He shook. He seethed. "My coming here... my time with ponies was just a phase to distract myself. To pretend I was something better than I actually am. If all this nonsense was indeed a baptism... it was a lukewarm bath at best... exposing all the shitty, grimey parts of me still left... the holes that need to be plugged and the promises left broken and unfulfilled..." He clenched his eyes shut. "The world may have been an ugly place when I was born... but it'll be even uglier long after I'm dead. And I only have myself to blame for it."

"But why?"

"Because... I'm not willing to do what's hard. I'm not willing to embark upon the only challenge that matters—to look at myself in the mirror and reject it all for something better. You see, even knowing how much of a loser I've been, I still cling to that image like gold. My shame is only ever so slightly eclipsed by own narcissism. A guilt that's clothed in sparkles does nothing for a soul—"

"That's quite eloquent of you to say, Flash," Octavia firmly interjected. "Poetic too. It sounds like you've had much practice in reciting these things. Perhaps to yourself." Her voice was gentle, yet piercing. "Now... could there be something you've never practiced... something you've not had the strength to say before now?"

He froze in place, lingering on the next breath. He knew she was right. More than that, he knew that his next breath would either break or bury him.

"Whether you're a righteous soul or a spawn of Tartarus, Flash, you've proven by coming here that you're strong enough to do amazing things," Octavia said. "Perhaps... just perhaps... an even greater test of strength awaits you?"

Flash felt the first of many bulwarks crumbling. It was all downhill from here. It was either talk or collapse right where he was and never move again.

So—one word at a time—his voice melted out his mouth. "I had gone out late at night to grab a few things from the local grocery store." His eyes opened, calm, emotionless. "I was driving across the parking lot in the car I had at the time, looking for the exit so I could return home..."

Car

"Ah shit!" Flash cursed, kicking his right leg out to keep the bag of microwavable dinners from spilling out all over the floor of the car. Hs succeeded, but the vehicle lurched in the process. "Friggin'..." Blushing under starlight, he braked the vehicle completely and freed a hand from the wheel to steady his groceries atop the passenger seat. "There. Damn." Chuckling to himself, he danced his fingers over the sound system, channeling his plug-in .mp3 player. A blaring, multi-layered rock anthem crackled self-importantly through the surround sound speakers. "Save me, Arcade Fire."

Flash Sentry smiled to himself. He layed lightly on the gas, taking his sweet time in navigating the parking lot. He saw the exit up ahead. Traffic was light. It was going to be an easy breezy cruise home.

He turned a corner, ambling down a line of empty parking spaces.

All empty—but one.

"... ... ...?" He looked to his left. The teenager's eyes narrowed.

Beyond an island of dried-up grass, there was a lone truck parked. Its hood was popped open, and one man fussed furiously with the mechanical bowels. Another man lingered a few feet over in the asphalt, pacing furiously with a cell phone to his ear. His free hand swiped viciously through the air, and vocal punctuations made the glass of Flash's car windows shake.

"... ... ..." Flash's brow furrowed. He couldn't help but slow the vehicle. He craned his neck to see better...

...when he saw a third person. Standing in the island. A woman. A long blue dress. Arms that couldn't decide whether to fuss with her hair or with the bulging backpack she was struggling to hold.

When Flash drifted by, she swiveled around like a top. Her body enlarged—swollen at the belly. It was the first thing Flash's eyes locked onto. Soon, he could make out the fabric pattern of the dress... for she was walking straight towards the car. Towards him. Waving. Frantic.

Flash murmured something. He couldn't hear the words underneath the guitar strings. His vehicle lurched to a stop, and soon did his entire night.

The woman approached the window. Her eyes flickered in twilight. Laced with tears.

Before Flash knew it, his fingers had dialed down the volume of his music. His other hand reached for the window controls...

Moment

"The moment she approached my car, I knew that something was wrong. You don't confront complete and utter strangers unless it's a matter of life or death... or a perceived matter. Then again... complete and utter strangers usually don't stop to listen to others. Maybe... just maybe it was something primordial within me... something ancient and innocent that's been skewed by the necessary heartlessness of progress.

"She was older than me... but barely. Tall. Young. Blonde. Still beautiful... but even in the brief blinks that I had of the woman I could see how some life... some truly awful life was starting to drain it all away from her... as it eventually drains from all of us... as I suspect it will someday drain most savagely from me. Someday, we will all have a reckoning. The measure of our honor is in how we deal with the reckoning of others before the time that we reach our own end.

"I don't know if she got as succinct a picture of me as I did of her. I don't know if it even mattered. When she spoke, it was in the simplest of elementary tones... like a babysitter talking to a child... someone pleading with another person of like-skin-color and seeking family... familiarity... answers.

"And I...

"I..."

Couldn't

"Please, won't you help us?" she mewled. She was all whimpers and trembles. Her bag swayed like a pendulum in the starlight. "Our vehicle won't start and we can't afford any of the hotels out in this awful place..."

"I..." Flash Sentry exhaled. He was suddenly and inescapably aware of his own stomach. The condensation from the microwave dinners still tingled on his fingers. He remembered all of the junk he had left in the two backseats and his mind started stacking that—among other things—against this sudden situation. "I... uh..."

Two four-letter words boomed across the parking lot. Flash's eyes tore from the woman's pregnant belly for the first time. He saw the man on the phone punching at the air again. The other stranger dug his arms deeper into the damnable four-wheeled machine. The night was sweating, writhing, and the only thing making a soft connection through it all was the woman's pleading eyes.

"I'm eight months pregnant and we've got nowhere to go," she stammered between tears. It was a very succinct speech, and part of Flash suspected he wasn't the first person she told this to that evening. But the forward boldness and desperation of the act proved otherwise. He could have been a scarred serial killer driving a beat-up open jeep, and still she would have approached him at this point. While the man on the phone grew angrier and angrier, the woman's voice grew softer and softer. "Please... can... can you help us?"

Flash stopped trembling before he realize he was shaking at all. Confidence rolled into his throat, and he made eye contact with her to solidify what came next. "I... I can't."

She sniffled. "You can't?"

"No." He shook his head. Steady. Unbreaking. "I'm sorry. I can't help you."

Flash half-expected her to scream at him. In many ways, it would have been far more relieving than what came next.

She simply... retreated. Backing up as if gliding on invisible ice. "Oh. Okay" A resolute nod. "Okay." The tears were still flowing, but somehow they were less reflective. Her eyes drifted to the wheels beneath him. "I understand."

Maybe she said those last few words. Maybe she didn't. Either way, it flickered between them all the same, even as the fabric of night swallowed her and her belly into a fleeting memory.

"I'm sorry," Flash breathed, but his window was already halfway up, leaving him naked with the echoes of the moment. He pressed gently into the accelerator, and the parking lot oozed past him. He chose a limp path—exiting behind the plaza, going the long way around if only it meant he wouldn't have to see this scene again—and they wouldn't see him. Her drifting eyes and loose tears and looser voice lingered, scratching his ear drums. So he turned the music back up to drown it out. He couldn't make out the words. He couldn't make out anything. He couldn't feel.

And he went with that... rolled with that... just as his wheels rolled him towards someplace far away from twenty seconds ago.

Steer

"I let them be. I left the scene and I let... all of them be. Three complete strangers... four complete strangers... alone in a parking lot at the beginning of the end of their lives. This was after one of them pleaded with me—from soul to soul—laying bare before me all of the problems that they had. Asking for nothing but grace and respect from another human being. And I refused her.

"I refused her... not because I was fully incapable of helping her... but because I didn't want to. It would have been inconvenient for me. It would have upset my night... made me feel uncomfortable...

"And the truly sickening part about it is... when I did refuse her... she didn't fight it. She didn't demand that I change my mind. She didn't... bargain or haggle or beg for even smaller favors.

"I told her that I couldn't help her. And that's a lie. The fact of the matter is that I wouldn't... and she knew—as I knew—that it was just as well. She knew—like I knew—that if she was in my place... and she was driving home alone from the grocery store... and she was suddenly confronted—against her will—by three strangers suffering from a circumstance that would take unknown funds and resources to fix... ... ...she would have said the same thing that I did. Make no mistake. She was only asking for completely natural human empathy... and she knew that even that was asking too much.

"And what's even more disgusting is... if I told this story to others where I'm from... if I told other people in my world—friends and family—about being approached and my choosing not to help them... ... ... nobody would blame me. Nobody would blame me for being a selfish sack of shit with only my own interests in mind. They would have told me that I would have risked being mugged by one of the assholes she was with. Or someone would have implied that they got what they deserved... that they're somehow dumb or foolish for having gotten into that situation... and helping through through one rough patch wouldn't stop them from essentially falling into the same pit again as a result of their own inadequacies. Why should I suffer for mistakes that other lesser human beings made?

"And just why is this the way things are? Is everybody where I'm from completely self-serving and narrow-minded? No. Hardly. Sure, there are those who volunteer to feed the hungry and those who will donate to charities and other worthy causes and those who take unsavory jobs in the name of serving and supporting those who suffer...

"But when it comes to actually giving something that matters to you? Time? Profit? A meal and a bed? The shirt off your back? When it comes time to sacrifice the comfort and routine of your own way of life in order to help another person... when it comes time for you to give a piece of yourself—maybe even the entirety of yourself—so that those you've never owed anything to in the first place could benefit? How many people where I'm from would actually do that? Would actually seek to give... to offer what it takes to restore balance... to restore harmony among all living things that deserve it...?

"I'm telling you... it's only a tiny-ass number of people who would step up to the plate. And even those who claim that they'd be willing are full of it. Yeah, we've built philosophies and religions around the concept of altruism and selflessness. There are people out there who'll say stuff like 'Be like Jesus' or 'What would Jesus do?' But nobody ever expects anyone to actually become Jesus... to do what a true savior would do... to sacrifice everything—one's job, one's education, one's household, one's future—just to help out the first person you see.

"Every now and then, there are heroes who rock the boat... who shift the flow of the river. You'll have the teacher who'll jump in front of a bullet to protect his students. There'll be those brave dudes on a train who'll lay down their lives to stop violent racism in its ugly face. People like that are worshipped and praised for about fifteen minutes, because people adore the idea of being righteous more than the idea of actually becoming it. So heroes come and go, but then the filth and the ugliness and the selfishness of the world continues to roll its shitty way downhill.

"Because what changes?

"What ever changes?

"Human civilization has been waging wars and subjugating minorities and enslaving people for nearly ten thousand years. It doesn't ever get better... it just gets called something else and shoved heartlessly into the corner so that we'll ignore it. We've had centuries upon centuries of opportunities to change... to fix our problems and steer ourselves onto the path of harmony. And we've steered ourselves to brighter shores alright—so long as peace and prosperity is affordable to us and not to others—we've steered the course to where it's navigable. But nobody ever changes. Not enough to matter, at least. Nobody ever completely jumps off the boat to offer their space to someone who deserves it more... who's suffered more... who would be willing to do the same if they just had enough people to give an example... to instill a new pattern. Any attempt we've half-heartedly made to do something like this has been on some ludicrously grand scale through abstract autonomous bullshit where—of course—the damnable selfishness and paranoia of human nature bleeds through the cracks and takes over and ruins utopia before it can ever be achieved. There is no heart-to-heart attempt to reinvent the human struggle. Not with the path we've taken, where systems and habits matter more than sustaining innocent life—innocent life everywhere. Nothing gets better... not so long as we see one person eating a cheeseburger on one side of the globe and another person subsisting off of garbage on another side and everyone says 'This is normal; this is the way things have always been and things will always be... to some inescapably ugly degree.' And we lie back in the bed of all we've managed to accumulate for ourselves and we tell our cold lingering hearts that we're managing as 'best as we can' given the rocks and shoals of everyday living... when the actual truth is that each of us—when our time comes to go to bat for one person and by proxity the entirety of the human race—we fall upon the closest caveat we can seize and we do nothing..."

Change

"I... I did nothing," Flash Sentry murmured, his breaths growing calmer and his ears drooping more and more. "When it came my time to prove myself... to see if I had what it takes to transcend thousands of years of rotten humanity... I did nothing." He gulped. "I didn't fail. I just... refused." Shuddering, his eyes made contact with the ponies around him for the first time in minutes. "You see... nobody ever fails to do good. We humans... we ponies... we everything have goodness and mercy within each of us. We can change things for the better. We have the power." He slowly... sadly shook his head. "But I chose not to do that. I knew the excuses and the luxuries afforded me... and I clung to them. And chose to let those people be... to let them linger in whatever ill-fate befell them... that they didn't deserve. Nobody deserves that kind of shit. Nobody. Not the child of an abusive family. Not a teenager indoctrinated into a rape gang. Not a person lied to that killing himself to murder others is somehow rewarded in heaven. Not a person who flounders and fails to master this made-up macguffin called 'money' that some asshole invented countless eons ago. Nobody. Deserves. To suffer."

Flash leaned forward, placing his face in his hooves again. The others were silent as stone as he continued.

"We're all here only once. Nobody ever lives twice. This is it. This is our one and only shot at existence... at experiencing life for all its colors and music. Why make it so friggin' disharmonious? Why do people have to starve for most of it? Why do people have to spend it having their holes mutilated or their minds pulverized by dogma or their limbs blown off by a war that they never asked to be a part of? And yet... that's the world we've all chosen to call 'normal.' That's the world we refuse to change... to do that which is truly required to change it... because somehow the cost is far larger than the infinite reward... when all you really have to do is give... just give... just go outside and put your neck out there and love and cherish and give give give..."

A sniffling sound.

Flash rubbed his hooves together.

He looked up... and his eyes were glossy.

"I refused to do it. I refused." He swallowed a lump down his throat and proceeded to rub his fetlocks, as if cowering from a great an impenetrable cold. "For all of my goddamn soapboxing and whining about humanity... when it became my time to make a difference... I refused." His teeth clenched as he shook his head. "Makes no difference what impact being a good, selfless individual could or could not have made on my life... my education... my own pathetic circumstances. I left them. I went home to... I dunno... scarf down a well-cooked meal, fritter and waste hours on the Internet, melt my rain, jack off—whatever. And those people are god-knows-where now. Today, that poor woman's probably resorted to doing far nastier things to receive the good grace that I wouldn't give her. And the baby? Who knows if it was ever delivered or not. Or if it's alive or not. Who cares? I certainly didn't." His eyes limply swept the room, wet and witless. "The fact of the matter is, I'm part of the problem. Every day that goes by—and I refuse to give the shirt on my back to someone or lay down my life for a complete stranger—I'm part of the problem. There is no way of rexamining or skewing the matter. Unless I'm willing to do anything—and everything—for the first soul I meet... I won't ever change... and the world will never change. I'm not alone—but that's just an excuse. I've filled my life with excuses... whiny, pathetic, selfish excuses for preserving the legacy of a loser." A sniffle, and he looked at Soarin. "And coming here was one of them."

Soarin gazed back at him, blinking curiously.

"Maybe you all have your own problems... maybe there's suffering in Equestria that I've yet to find... but—the truth of the matter is..." Flash breathed heavily. "...doing good and selfless things here comes easy. It's built in all of you... so much goodness and harmony. I... I could feed five thousand hungry souls with my bare hooves here... and it wouldn't make an impact. Because... because that's just how warm and beautiful this place is. Everything is on the up and up. If I improved myself here—as a living being—could it really be called 'progress?' I'd be cheating my way to a position of feeling self-righteous and... and I knew that before I came here. I knew th-that the first m-moment a beautiful... innocent princess waltzed into my world and needed help. And I helped her... but only because it was easy... because I could afford to do it... just like I could afford to clean the gutters here... or stave off a diamond dog assassination or even... or even unite an entire Empire with the rest of Equestria..."

"Flash..." Soarin leaned in. "...what you did here was no small feat."

Flash choked on the next breath. "It is for me." He shook his trembling head. "So long as I know what I know... that I see all that I've opened my eyes to see... I-I'm no angel here... I-I'm just a c-coward..." He lingered on the crest of hyperventilation. "I know deep down inside what I am... wh-what I've chosen to be and... and..." The first stab pierced the base of his neck and tore its way up his throat. "Dammit..." His eyes were already becoming cloudy. "God dammit..." He held a hoof to his face, trying to dam it all in. He had anticipated this moment for months... long lonely months spent sandwiched by the gray walls of his room. But when the tears finally came, they weren't cleansing or relieving. If nothing else, the baptism only exposed him to all the grimy lengths of his soul left unwashed. "...I've been..." He hiccuped. He sobbed. "...so damn... so goddamn s-selfish..." He hunched over. There were no wings that could carry him aloft now. "...I'm s-sorry... I'm so sorry..."

Perhaps, Flash Sentry knew what was about to happen. Nevertheless, when the first set of equine arms enfolded around him, he cried like a moth caught in a spider's web. A fetlocked rubbed into his shoulder, and he smelled the scent of muffins as the mare kissed his forehead and nuzzled his neck. Next came Soarin, his strong wings cocooning and preserving. He couldn't see the bodies of those who subsequently closed in, but his mind counted them, and the number stretched beyond heaven. They surrounded the teenager, giving him the warmth and love that he always wanted, but all it did was burn him alive. His first sobs in as long as he could remember were cries of anguish, and he allowed the pain to wring the last pitiable drops out of him.

"It's okay, bro..."

"You're a good soul..."

"...you wouldn't feel these things unless you wanted to change..."

"Fortune smiles on you, my boy. All is not lost."

"...you can still do a lot of good, Flash..."

"Not... not..." Flash seethed, his face and voice hovering between compassionate pony hugs. "...not h-here I can't." He grimaced. Giving birth. "Here... n-no matter what g-good I did... I would just blend in. I would disappear completely. And I have so much p-potential... and I mean too much to the universe to ever let that h-happen." He clenched his eyes shut. "And that's why I must go back." He cried, covering his face with a hoof, like a shroud. "I must g-go back..." His shudders were silent now. Acknowledging. A mantra. "I must go back... I must go back... I must..."

Nopony argued with him.

Nopony tried to change him.

For that was already happening.

He sank in the midst of their warmth, allowing the tears to run their course and recede. How long the moment took to pass, Flash could not recall... but he made sure to mind the tributaries that flowed from there.

Dawn

Hours later...

After a fitful "sleep"...

Flash Sentry sat on his hindquarters, squinting beyond the shiny railing of a crystalline balcony. His room in the palace overlooked the eastern edge of the city. From there, he could see the sun rising over the northern hilltops. Dew-ladened grass shone in bright emerald bands, evaporating mistily in a cloudy swath that swept slowly towards the Empire like a lace sheet. As even that dissipated, a fiery amber beam melted across the sky, alive with birds and warmth and the rising hum of life.

In contemplative silence, Flash sat. He felt a steady, heavy beat in his chest—not so much provoked by the sheer beauty of the dawn, but tickling his mind with the gnawing fact that he had seen it that beauty multiple times before... in another world... sandwiched between the sighs... hidden deep behind woeful thoughts and loathsome frowns.

He knew well enough about ugliness. What he had long forgotten was what was obscured underneath it. Flash wondered whether or not he would finally see that beauty when he went back home... or if he would have to work hard to dredge it back up to the surface.

Somehow, the teenager betted on the latter, and the mere challenge of the matter tingled his soul just as the sun kissed his goosebump-laden flesh.

Deep into this meditative sun-gazing, Flash became aware of a sudden gust of wind. It was localized, and Flash tore his eyes off the brightness to see a stallion hovering just to the side of the balcony.

"There you are," Soarin exhaled a particularly heavy breath. "Thank Celestia."

Flash blinked. "Good morning."

"Good morning to you too, dude," Soarin said. Still hovering. Still breathless.

Flash raised an eyebrow. "Something the matter?"

Soarin dropped to the balcony beside the younger stallion. With a vexxed expression, he pointed into the suite beyond the curtains. "Didn't you hear me banging on your door for the past ten minutes?"

"Huh?" Flash barely turned around. "Oh. Sorry, man. Guess I didn't hear it."

"You've been out here this whole time?"

"Yeah. For a while, I guess..."

"Yeesh..." Soarin's wings drooped as he looked off the balcony. "I came around in a hurry. For a second there I thought..." His words trailed off.

Flash blinked curiously at him. "What? What did you think?"

"Just..." Soarin waved a hoof while his tail flicked. "Just forget about it..."

"Soarin..." Flash arched an eyebrow. "Don't you think you and I are far beyond 'heart-to-heart' by now? Just friggin' spill it, already."

At long last, Soarin looked directly at him. It was a stern expression, befitting an older brother or a father. "Why do you gotta be such a downer, man?"

"Comes from living in the down-ness all the time."

"I'm being serious, bro!" Soarin's voice cracked, destroying his tough-guy-ness. He gestured. "I'm worried about you! Lately everything you've been saying... or sounding lately just seems so... so... self-destructive!"

"I'm not self-destructive, Soarin, I promise—"

"Then why are you choosing to go back to that place you hate?"

"What, home?"

"Yeah, home! Tartarus! Hell! Call it whatever! It sucks and you hate it and by going back there..." Soarin's teeth showed. "...it just seems like you're a big rolling ball of self-hate."

"I'm not being self-destructive by choosing to go back home, Soarin," Flash said. "It's quite the opposite."

"Pfft! Oh really?!"

"Yes. I truly believe I can make a difference back there and—" Flash's brow furrowed. "Why didn't you bring any of this up last night?"

"Cuz last night you were a soppy, blubbering mess!" Soarin's voice cracked again. "I'm not in to kicking sad puppies when they're down!"

"Uh huh..."

"And I guarantee you that all the other ponies feel the same about your choice!"

"No they don't—"

"Oh yeah they do!" Soarin nodded vehemently. "They're just not all gifted with wings to fly around here and yell at your butt!"

"You call this yelling?!"

"I call this being friggin' worried out of my... my... PEEVED skull for you!" Soarin barked... and he winced heavily into the echo of his own outburst, ears drooping.

Flash—leaning oddly away from him—only looked more confused. "... ... ...what?"

"That... th-that isn't a huge no-no word where you come from?" Soarin stammered.

"What? 'Friggin?'"

"No, the P-word."

"What, 'peeved?'" Flash's wings stretched and outstretched in a feathery shrug. "Hell, no. I'm sure boring eighteenth century philosophes blew their noses to that word, dude."

"I... I just wanted to show you how serious I was..." Soarin practically deflated, staring off across the balcony with a drooping expression. "Awwwwwww moosecunts..."

"Snkkkt—" Flash doubled over. "Pffft—ha ha ha ha ha ha!"

Soarin blinked. "What?"

"Hah hah hah hah hah hah hah!"

Soarin's muzzle scrunched into a confused grin. "What? What did I say?"

"Ha ha ha ha... ha ha..." Flash lay on his side with a drunken smile. "I'm so glad I came to this place." He smiled rosily at his friend. "I'm so glad I met you, dude." Slowly, his smile softened—as did his voice. "I'm so sorry to have worried you... over and over again. I... I guess I can understand why you would think that I'm... th-that I could possibly be..." He bit his lip. His eyes drifted towards the sunrise.

Soarin sat by his side. Gazing. Patient.

A shudder escaped Flash's face. A tear trickled down his cheek. Heavy. Easy. He wondered why it felt so hard to shed them for so long. It was so hard to feel for so long.

With a gentle fetlock, Flash wiped the tear away... then dammed the next few before they form. A few sniffles later, he murmured, "All that you ponies have ever been is good to me... and still, I'ved treated you like garbage. Ignoring your concerns. Ignoring your feelings."

"That's not true—"

"Can I just say I'm sorry?!" Flash snapped. "Can't you just let me get that out?! I'm s-sorry, Soarin..." Flash sobbed halfway through the utterance. He closed his eyes and calmed himself with shuddering breaths. "I'm sorry that I'm just some... unstoppable rolling train of negativity." A heavy gulp. "I should have apologized to my family and friends back in my world. Instead... I had to bring my baggage here... and unload on you all..."

Soarin slowly nodded. "You did what you had to do... for your sanity's sake. And for your conscience's sake."

"Yeah, well..." Flash muttered, wiping his muzzle dry again. "Like a true thespian, I had to save it all for last night's explosion."

"I don't believe that for a second."

"Huh...?"

Soarin's eyes narrowed. "I don't think you're done, bro," he said. He maintained a steady gaze, even as Flash looked up at him. "Not by a long shot. You can't just... heal stuff like this overnight. And that's what you need from this place, Flash. That's what you've always need from Equestria. Not redemption. Not some way to prove you're better than how you perceive yourself. But a chance to let it all out and heal—"

"I can't stay here and have it easy all my life—"

"Nopony's saying that! But... but if you just... take off and go back home now without getting the rest of this bottled-up junk out of your system..." Soarin shrugged. "...how can you be in a healthy position to do anything good?! For yourself—much less for an entire stinkin' world?!"

"I don't want to just heal myself, Soarin. I want to heal those around me."

"And that's cool, dude! But don't just hop into the nearest cannon and shoot yourself straight through the mirror!"

Flash's eyes narrowed. "What makes you think I'm gonna just do this right away?"

Soarin returned with a deadpan expression. "Seriously? Mr. Impulsive? Mr. I'm-Gonna-Go-Talk-To-The-Canine-Assassins-Because-Why-Not?"

Flash glanced left... then right. "...dogs can't operate catapults where I come from."

"Dude, will you just—"

"I bear a lot of sins, Soarin," Flash said. "But chief among them are excuses. And for once in my life..." He shook his head. "I feel light as a feather. I feel weightless. I don't want to start stacking them up again. I need... I need to go back to where it all began and start living my life right." He took a deep breath. "I'm glad that I came here... I'm glad that I met you... and that I met all my other friends and made a difference in everypony's life. But now that I've gotten the feel-goods out of my system, it's time to muscle up for what really matters... what really matters to me and my futre." A sigh. "The tutorial's over. Time to press Start."

Soarin replied with something that Flash didn't expect. "I'm quitting the Wonderbolts."

"... ... ..." Flash's pupils shrank. He sat up straight, muscles tightening. "Wh... when did you finally decide?"

"About an hour ago," Soarin said. "Right before I came here to check on you." His nostrils flared. "Didn't get much sleep last night."

"Mmmm..." Flash shifted. "...sorry."

"Ain't your burden to bear, bro." Soarin shrugged. "This has been a long time coming. We both knew that."

"You... uh... you planning on—"

"I'm going to teach at flight camps along young pegasi," Soarin said. There was a hint of a smile along the edges of his lips. "And if you're worried about Spitfire and the rest—don't be. I've done my duty. I'll be an honorary hall-of-famer among the Wonderbolt Wings in no time. If nothing else, it should give me an edge when I start training. Not that I'll take advantage of that or anything. I just... want to see the happy faces on young fillies and colts as they learn how to fly for the first time... as they start mastering the sky that they've lived under for so long." He gazed off at the burning sunrise in question. "I'm tired of doing the same bouring air tricks over cloud arenas... weekend after weekend. As much as I love Spitfire, I'm tired of the orders being screamed out... I'm sick to death of the constant intensity... with no reward or glory."

"Well..." Flash nodded. "I'm happy for you, bro. I'm glad you're choosing to go through with this."

"So am I. And do you know why?" Soarin looked the younger stallion's way. "Because it's something that I know will fulfill me. It will bring me joy... and it will bolster the happiness and progress of others."

"Yeah..."

"But what about you, Flash?" Soarin's eyes narrowed. "What are you doing to do with your life?"

"I..." Flash blinked. He fidgeted where he sat. "I don't know."

"Let me rephrase that then." Soarin breathed. "What are you going to do with your life other than punish yourself needlessly?"

Flash sighed. He leaned back. "I don't know..."

"So what if you've committed some unpardonable sin?" Soarin shrugged. "I don't see that, bro! What I see... is a young stall—human who wants to do what's best for those around him. I see an individual who's aware of the mistakes that have been made and now wants to change for the better."

"And that's what I'm going back home to do, Soarin."

"But that's the one thing that I don't see..." Soarin's ears drooped. "Last night, in a single breath, you took all the cruddy things that you hate about the world and you just... threw them on your own shoulders." He shook his head. "You don't deserve that, dude! Nobody does! What's... what's the crime in taking it easy on yourself? Can't you at least take into account the things you've done here and cut yourself some slack?"

"I'm never going to forget the things I've done here, Soarin," Flash said calmly. "I'm going to take them with me—all of the smiles, all of the words of gratitude, all of the sights and sounds of the celebration here in the Crystal Empire... those are the things I'm going to bear on my shoulders as I go back home." Flash smiled gently. "I only wish I could have drummed up some courage in my previous life."

"See..." Soarin pointed at the air. "It's stuff like that which gets to me. You're still you dude. You can't change that!"

"I'm fully aware."

"I just..." Soarin clenched his teeth. He held a hoof to his brow, then weathered a shuddering breath. His next breath came out slightly ragged. "...I'm so worried for ya, bro." He gulped. "Celestia help me, I just don't understand..."

"Shhhh..." Flash leaned in until his forehead was gently resting against the other stallion's. "Neither do I, Soarin. About most things... except one." He clenched his jaw. "I've got to do this."

Soarin shuddered.

"I have to. I got what I came here for out of my system and..." He leaned back with a firm breath. "Now I have go to home."

It was a prolonged period of time before Soarin' opened his eyes. A tear ran down his face. "Well..." He made a small sound inside his muzzle, then looked directly at the teenager. "...if that's what you whole-heartedly believe..." A soft yet strong smile. "...then I've got your back."

Flash nodded. He squirmed a bit, then broke a smile. "And wh-who knows? I... I might be able to come back and visit someday! See just how you're doing with the students."

"Do you honestly believe that?"

"... ... ..."

Both found it hard to look at each other for a good half-minute.

"Well... anyways..." Flash awkwardly murmured, scratching his chin. "I hate to be a total jerk... but I've got one last favor to ask of you."

Soarin nodded calmly. "Name it, bro."

Flash looked at him, his eyes moist yet again. "Do you think... you can escort me to the Princesses?"

Balance

Flash Sentry's and Soarin's flight to the throne room's outer entrance was a slow and silent one.

When they arrived, there was a line of guards standing at attention. In the center there stood a familiar stallion, fully awake and alert. When the lieutenant's blue eyes met Flash's blue eyes, his ears drooped ever so slightly beneath his helmet, but otherwise he remained unwavering.

Flash touched down. His lips pursed. He nervously tightened his wings at his side. "... ... ...am I expected?"

"By some," the lieutenant said, and it was a soft statement. He looked at his fellow guards. "I shall take it from here."

The other stallions nodded, then swiftly opened the doors.

The lieutenant gestured inside.

Flash stepped forward. Halfway, he paused, then turned to face Soarin. "This... will only be a moment."

Soarin arched an eyebrow. "Just a moment?"

Flash waited in place for a bit, searching for a response. When he found none, he awkwardly turned tail and stumbled inside. The lieutenant followed, and the doors closed loudly behind them.

It was bone-chillingly cold inside this wing of the palace, or so Flash told himself. His slow trot through the halls was riddled with shivers and trembles. In the meantime, the suited soldier escorting him was the very paragon of calm.

"The crystalline foundation of this Palace," the guard spoke. "Beautiful in aesthetics." His nostrils flared beneath his helmet. "Not entirely functional as insulation."

Flash blinked, teeth chattering. "Oh..." He nodded without looking aside. "Oh yeah. S-sure."

"Were your sleeping quarters accomodating?"

"Yeah. Slept well. Woke up. There..." Flash saw the doors to the throneroom up ahead, and he chewed on his bottom lip. "...it w-was a beautiful sunrise this morning."

"It takes a beautiful world for there to be a beautiful sunrise."

Flash gulped. "No doubt." The sound of rattling armor suddenly stopped, and he realized he was trotting alone. "???" Curious, he turned to look at the lieutenant.

The same face looked back at him. "I heard that you have chosen to go back to your realm."

"Really?" Flash blinked hard. "Already?"

"Indeed."

"Heh..." A crooked smile. "Small Empire."

"About to get a lot smaller, thanks to you," the guard said. "Don't worry. I'm anything but mad. I feel that unification is the best thing for both portions of Equestria."

"Well... uh... good."

"It can only mean progress," the lieutenant said with a nod. "That is the epitome of living."

"Yeah, I guess..."

Flash's other self raised an eyebrow. "You guess?"

"...sure?"

The lieutenant paced closer towards him. "Harmony is the greatest virtue in Equestria, is it not?"

"From what I've seen, totally."

"Does it surprise you to know that it is inachievable in its perfection?" The lieutenant stared calmly at his double. "Harmony—after all—is a form of balance. And you cannot support what is good and what is righteous without taking into account the polar opposite weight."

Flash blinked, listening.

"The best we can hope to do is control and compartmentalize that which is disagreeable to justice and prosperity," the soldier said. "These things were taught to me during my years of intense training." He slowly shook his head. "There will always be mistakes. There will always be threats. There will always be evils and corruption." He gestured. "What we can manage—with the strength, courage, and wisdom afforded us—is to improve upon ourselves and those before us so that the stain of existence won't weigh terribly on those who are living." His ears lowered slightly. "I know that there's nothing I can do to bring back Mom and Dad." A firm gaze. "But I have the power and conviction to prevent the same thing horrible from happening to as many other ponies as possible. I do not expect to save the world... but—with the help of my fellow comrades—I intend to make it a better place regardless." He leaned back with a full breath. "It does not matter what is behind us. It can only ever get better."

Flash Sentry nodded slowly. Once the lieutenant was done, he said, "Sometimes... what lies behind us is us."

"I only wish that you..." The lieutenant fumbled for the first time since they met. "...that we are set on a good path." He swallowed. "That we are endeavoring to keep things balanced in both worlds... without teetering it unnecessarily—"

"I doubt I'm about to enlist in West Point, bro—"

"Perhaps you underestimate the seriousness of what I'm saying—"

"Oh, you're totes serious. I get that. It's you. But me? I only ever thought I was 'serious.' But that was just diet seriousness... emo in a bottle... wisdom of a fool." Flash exhaled. "But that's over with. Now? I'm going back to improve things with all the shit that I've learned here. Consider Equestria my training. It may not be nearly as grueling or friggin' spartan as yours was but..." Flash's eyes narrowed. "I promise you... I'm going back home to balance things out for the better. Honeymoon's over. Now? I've got a whole lot of work to do."

The lieutenant nodded. "You do, don't you?"

Silence.

"Well..." The lieutenant marched towards the door. "...far be it from me to lecture myself after so much has transpired."

"Oh, it's cool, man." Flash shrugged, watching him. "Believe me... your lectures are gonna come in handy someday soon." His ears drooped slightly. "Everypony's lectures will."

"Good to know."

"Anyyyyy..." Flash eyed the throneroom door. "...—last bit of advice for how to behave myself in front of your rulers?"

"Yes," the lieutenant spoke in monotone as he touched the handle. "Please lower your tail. Your rectum has been showing this entire time."

"Whoah-whoah-whoah!" Flash jumped in place, his tail tucking between his legs. "Holy shit, dude, really?!?"

"No."

Flash blinked.

The lieutenant looked back at him with the smallest hint of a smile. "...that was a joke."

"... ... ...grkk..." Flash smirked, blushing red as a beet. "Sonuvabitch."

"You stopped shivering."

"I'm gonna remember that too, ya melon fudge."

And the guard opened the door.

Celestial

Flash Sentry entered the throne room. As he did so, the lieutenant vanished from his sight, and the transcendant glory of two alicorns filled the void.

Luna and Celestia turned to face him—as if they magically knew precisely when to end their conversation and turn to greet the teenager. Luna was deadpan as always, but Princess Celestia bore the gentlest of smiles, calm and graceful.

"Flash Sentry," the older of the two sisters spoke eloquently, fully awake and alert. Flash wondered if either of them were even capable of sleep. "What is it that brings you here this morning?"

"I..." Flash bit his lip. Nevertheless, he pressed humbly forward. "I was wondering if I could speak with you, Princess Celestia, y-your Highness."

"By all means." Celestia looked at her sister. "Luna."

Luna bowed halfway. She took her leave, trotting out of the room. In so doing, she passed Flash... but hesitated momentarily by his side. Her lofty eyes peered down at him, and a voice as dark and nebulous as her mane rippled between them.

"Nightmares only ever come from within, child," she said. "I trust you've learned to reach deeper than that."

Flash Sentry blinked.

With graceful stride, Luna passed on through the nearest door. Flash watched her as she left, suddenly numb.

Princess Celestia's voice gently pierced the silence.

"We are alone now, Mr. Sentry. Anything you wish to say to me, please, do speak your peace."

"I..." Flash chewed on his bottom lip. His eyes remained glued to the door... to the trailing shades of Luna in his mind... to the calm blue eyes of his doppelganger and the bittersweet smile hanging off the muzzle of Soarin, his new best friend.

All these colors, vibrant and precious, yet here and gone in the blink of an eye.

He had just remember what it meant to feel... only to feel it all slip away.

"I... c-came here to tell you..." Flash turned to face the ruler of Equestria. "...that I've come to a decision."

"Oh?" Celestia crossed the distance between them. She gazed down at the young stallion with a blank yet patient expression. "And what decision is that, my little pony?"

Something about those words. The musical quality to the voice. The innocence, the respect, and the sincerity and compassion...

It broke him all over again. His face crumbled under the mounting pressure, and he hung his head to hide the tears—an act of futility. He cursed underneath his breath, but that only freed his lungs for a bursting sob... then another. Flash Sentry covered his face with a shaking fetlock, and all he could produce at this point was: "I'm sorry..." He sniffled, shaking his head with clenched eyes. "Here I am taking up your precious time. I... I don't want to trouble you. But... b-but I j-just can't bring myself to say it outright... as much as I want to... as m-much as I need to..." He sucked his breath in, only to sob once more. "I'm just so... so sorry..."

Hoofsteps.

A warm presence sat before him, and a gold-laced hoof tilted his tear-stained chin up.

She smiled placily into his blurred vision. "So am I, friend."

He clenched his teeth, staring bravely at her.

"When you first arrived, I perceived you as a mere child, and it was for this reason that I attempted to convince you to return to your home... and to your family. However, after talking to my beloved sister Luna and observing more of your situation first-hoof, I realized I was only half correct. You arrived here a child, but—thanks to your experience in Equestria—you have become a veritable stallion." She arched an eyebrow. "Relatively speaking, of course."

He managed a slight smile at that.

"And I promise you that you are not a trouble to me," Princess Celestia said, remaining calm and pleasant despite the teenager's breakdown. She leaned back with a knowing glance. "Do you want to know about troubles? Equestria has seen its fair share of them throughout the centuries. I myself have seen many of them first-hoof..." Her eyes drifted aside with the first sign of sadness since he saw her. "...some of which I have even caused."

He calmed slightly, wiping his muzzle clean.

The Princess continued: "You don't get to be over a thousand years old and somehow remain pure." She looked at him. "But you can most certainly improve." Her wings flared a bit. "Like a society does. Like my subjects have." Her smile came back, if only a small one. "My sister has told me a lot about your world—at least the details that she has gathered from your mind... hyperbolic as many of them tend to be."

Flash winced slightly.

"And even with the mortal failures that you yourself have come to regret," Celestia said, "It's not all that different from the history that Equestria has been forced to own... that we must take responsibility for on a day to day basis... with moral tenacity and retribution in the face of alluring, blissful ignorance." She stood up tall before him. "There is always hope for everyone, my little pony. If you are so certain about this decision you've made... I hope it's a decision you are making to help your fellow creatures..." She shook her head. "...not to change them. For even in transcendence, Mr. Sentry, we do not become perfect beings. Far from it. We simply become more complicated versions of our past selves, and yet more affirmative. And if we allow these positive changes to happen, then it is with the self-sustained knowledge that there will always... always be room for improvement."

Flash took a moment to digest that. He had calmed well enough to provide a quiet reply. "I certainly feel more complicated than improved." He swallowed. "But... I am convinced that... th-that I can do good for the world that's waiting for me back home... n-now that I've done so much good for myself."

"And it is not my place to tell you otherwise, Mr. Sentry," Celestia said. "But do know that if you ever need advice or support from me or any of my subjects, my kingdom is always open for you to revisit at any time." She smiled. "I'm certain it can only lead to further prosperity."

He smiled up at her, an added tear tickling his face. "I shall never forget your kindness."

She leaned in and nuzzled the stallion close. "And I shall never forget your goodness."

Platform

On a crisp, bright afternoon...

She shone in the sunlight like a lavender gemstone. Even after all that had transpired—the ups and the downs, the laughter and the sobs—she was still inescapably beautiful. The only difference now was that Flash didn't quite hate himself so much for acknowledging it.

She stood along the loading platform at the Crystal Empire train depot, talking with five equine figures—all of whom were vaguely familiar. There was also a purple creature standing next to her... purple scales with green spines. It struck Flash Sentry rather odd, and he chuckled slightly at the realization...

...which is the first thing she heard. Twilight Sparkle turned to look at him across the depot. Her ears drooped, but her wings remained outstretched. Excusing herself from the worried herd of marefriends, she trotted gently over to meet him.

Flash arrived with Soarin, Derpy Hooves, Octavia Melody, and Vinyl Scratch trotting alongside him. Both groups met beside the caboose.

"I... uhm..." Twilight Sparkle stood as tall and regal as she could. "I heard that you had come to a decision. And..." She sighed slightly, her gaze bouncing across the various companions gathered. "...I'm guessing there's no point in running the issue into the ground with further discourse."

"I wouldn't mind hearing your opinion," Flash said.

"It's not so much an opinion as it is... is..." Twilight fidgeted slightly, avoiding his gaze. "Well... if Princess Celestia and Princess Luna are okay with it, then I guess I shouldn't worry."

"You're allowed to," Flash said. He smiled slightly, shaking his head. "But I wouldn't bother."

Twilight looked at her. "You... you'll consider coming back some time?"

Flash blinked.

"To visit your friends?" she added.

He breathed easier upon hearing that. His eyes looked along the length of the train. In the distance, he spotted the likes of Mr. Cake, Mrs. Cake, Lyra Heartstrings, and Bon Bon trotting aboard many of the dormant cars. As steam vented from the engine up front, several colorful pairs of eyes darted his way. He couldn't see what had become of Fancy Pants or Filthy Rich, but Flash realized he couldn't have everything.

"I don't see why not," he murmured quickly, if only to get it out of the way and ask the next question: "This train will take us back to Ponyville?"

"That it does." Twilight Sparkle smiled. "It's a smooth ride... but it'll get us there quicker than you think."

"So... it's easy to follow the tracks from high above?"

Twilight's brow furrowed. "Uh... definitely. Why?"

"Good to know." Slowly, Flash turned around and looked at Soarin and Derpy with an innocent, foalish smile. "I... was wondering if we could do something." He sniffled. "One last time...?"

South

The steam-powered train sliced its way through the emerald expanse of verdant Equestria. But Flash Sentry wasn't on it.

He was hundreds of feet above, gliding against the wind, slicing through the current on agile wings. He squinted against the cool, crisp air... smiling at each challenging gust. The sun was bright and the winds drew the tears from his eyes. Or, at least, he told himself that.

The teenager wasn't alone. Soarin and Derpy Hooves flanked him on either side. A patch of clouds broiled darkly in the distance, sending an occasional echo of thunder across the otherwise bright atmosphere. It was far from dismal—the noise and chaos of the trailing storm invigorated the group. They shook off the goosebumps with occasional barrel-rolls and loopty-loops. Soarin taunted Flash more than once with a few professional maneuvers from his bottomless wallet of Wonderbolts experience. Flash attempted to emulate him—goofily so—and he lost a few feathers in the process. Derpy filled the air with incessant giggles, and the fuzzy gray dimples of her muzzle kept the entire group aloft.

Flash took more than a few moments to drink everything in. The azure blue gloss of the lakes... the lazy flicker of babbling rivers... the thick wooly forests lingering below and the thin amber promise of deserts and mountains far off in the distance. Flash gazed south, and he saw a spectral dance of muted colors, advancing into a gray malaise that promised more and more hidden hues of a magical prism. They were far from the funeral shrouds that imprisoned him under the weight of his room, and even those shades—Flash suspected—would no longer be quite so bleak.

Nevertheless, it was with a melodic sigh that Flash spoke aside to Soarin, "You know what I'm going to miss the most about this?"

"What's that, buddy?" Soarin asked.

Flash's smile was a placid one. "Coming back down."

His eyes traced the horizon... and it wasn't long before he found the quaint round brownness of Ponyville—its gold-thatched roofs winking at him beneath a noonday sun. It would be only a matter of hours before train arrived.

His time in Equestria was over.

Silent, Flash closed his eyes and allowed the warmth and wind of the pony world to serenade him.

Just for a little bit longer.

Landing

The flight back to Ponyville was delightful and liberating.

It wasn't necessarily swift. By the time Flash Sentry had reached the crisp blue airspace above the village, the train from the Crystal Empire had long arrived and steamed off for its next destination. From high above, Flash could seen the glistening, crystalline spires of the purple-tinted Castle of Friendship. Off towards the northeast, a series of large buildings were being built along a ridge of steep hills. The teenager observed how the expert architects were redirecting a waterfall to flow through the fantastical structures-in-the-making.

Flash was delaying the inevitable at this point and he knew it. The whole time Soarin and Derpy flew beside him, they were mercifully quiet and patient. He wasn't about to force them into making the first awkward move.

He descinded slowly, fluttering towards the ground like a blue-and-yellow feather. Flash landed not far from town hall, his hooves tingling upon touching the springy green grass. Then Flash coiled his wings at his side—for perhaps the very last time. The realization spawned a lump in his throat, and he trudged ahead in a somber lurch, head hanging low as he squinted against the brightness of the sunlight against every wooden and woolly surface of the townscape.

As things came into focus, Flash realized the streets were far from empty. Ponies—citizens both old and young—had completely stopped what they were doing. Several bodies stood on street corners and at storefronts, head turning to watch the otherworlder's march. When Soarin and Derpy joined him, the crowds gathered even sicker, their faces blank—yet innocent. All of the fear and uncertainty was missing, replaced instead with permeating curiosity... tinged with melancholy.

It was a small town indeed.

Flash lifted his head and straightened his spine. The rest of his trot was performed with relative dignity. This wasn't a march to the gallows, but he almost wished that it was. In an execution by decapitation—Flash thought—he'd be losing a whole lot less than he was actually about to.

A pink shape blossomed in his peripheral. Flash refused to look directly at Sugarcube Corner as he passed it, for fear that the dignity would be lost under a fresh fountain of tears. It struck him odd that crying felt so easy now. He made a conscious effort to save it for the other side of the mirror.

He was saving everything for the other side.

The three ponies rounded a bend, and Flash's heart skipped. There—ahead of him, down a verdant green path—were the front gates to the Twilight's palace. And standing in clear view was Princess Twilight herself. She wasn't alone at the entrance. A darker shade of the alicorn stood a few paces over. Oddly enough, it was this pony whom Flash first addressed as he finally arrived.

"Starlight Glimmer..." Flash tried putting on a smile.

Starlight tried even harder. "Hey there, you."

"I... uh..." Flash gulped. "...I'm sorry for not telling you the truth the moment you first saw me."

"It's okay, Flash," Starlight said, her tone remarkably pleasant. "Worse lies have been spoken in Equestria... and for worse reasons."

"Yeah." Flash nodded, his eyes darting anxiously towards the tall front doors looming above him. "Sure."

"Sunset Shimmer's already been informed that you'll be arriving soon," Starlight said. "She and her friends will be there on the other side of the portal to make sure you get there safely." A slight chuckle. "It's always a rough landing. I know."

"I... uh..." Flash fidgeted. "...h-hope it's not too big of a welcoming party."

"It isn't." Starlight shook her head. "Believe me. Nobody's gonna make this..." She grimace halfway through the delivery. "...awkward."

"Hmmm..." Flash managed a bittersweet smirk. "You're right. There are worse." He then looked to the side.

Princess Twilight was biting her lip.

Flash breathed. "Your Highness."

"I was... somewhat expecting you to show up later," she stated.

"Nah. No delaying the inevitable." Flash gulped. "Still... thanks so much for letting us—"

"Say nothing of it." Twilight waved a hoof. "No reason you couldn't experience one of the greatest joys to be had here in Equestria." She winked over Flash's shoulder. "And somepony made sure that he didn't fly into any mountains along the way."

"Darn tootin'," Soarin said with a wink. Derpy giggle.

"I never flew into any mountains..." Flash kicked at the grass. "...just a falling brat."

Twilight laughed slightly. "Well, you flew true in my book."

Silence.

Flash sighed. "Well..." he motioned towards the door. "...let's get this over with."

"You..." Twilight blinked at him as her horn glowed. "You don't exactly have to hurry, Flash?"

He was about to ask her what she meant by that. But when the Princess opened the door and Starlight gestured into the main chamber...

...Flash understood why.

Gauntlet

Ponies, friends, and familiars stood in two thick lines across the atrium. A squat purple dragon could be seen arranging them in places with various clawed gestures. Realizing that the front doors were opening, the whelp jumped with a start and scampered off to join one of the lines. All eyes were on Flash Sentry as he marched slowly down the central walkway that had been forged for him.

Flash's muzzle hung open, and his ears folded back with a touch of unsure emotion. He proceeded forward slowly, humbly. Soarin's and Derpy's hoofsteps accompanied him... and that was solacing enough. The mirror was situated in the castle basement, and that was at least a full hallway's stroll from where he currently was. At the moment, Flash was preoccupied with surviving a gauntlet of adoring faces.

The first equines he approached were the Cakes. Cup and Carrot stood closely side by side with parental smiles. Each cradled an infant foal in the crook of their fetlock. A colt and a filly—the last one discerned by a pretty bow.

"Friggin' a..." Flash muttered, approaching the two. "...they could make a playset out of you all."

"Heheheh..." Carrot Cake blushed slightly. "We'll take that as a compliment."

"Thank you for coming into our lives, Flash," Cup Cake said, sending the teenager's heart a'flutter. Her eyes were glossy as she propped her smile against the fluffy head of her daughter. "You've done so much for our business... and for us."

"Well, it's a good business... and a good us." Flash breathed in as he paused before the group. "I... never did get to sample any of that banana bread, huh?" His ears folded slightly. "Sorry."

"Oh, it's quite alright, dear." Cup Cake giggled, eyes darting in Soarin's direction. "Somepony sure enjoyed it!"

"Errr... yeah..." Soarin looked aside, blushing. Derpy playfully batted at his wings, winking.

"Promise to ask for help the next time you clean out the gutters?" Flash asked, looking at the Mister.

"You better believe it." Cup Cake winked. "You take care of yourself, son."

"Thanks... Dad." Biting his lip, Flash pressed on.

Next stood Filthy Rich and Fancy Pants. The two business stallions stood side by side, tall and proud.

"Yeesh..." Flash smirked crookedly. "You guys are friggin' inseparable."

"It's rather ironclad now, Flash, ol' chap," Fancy Pants said. "Besides... I'll be working out of Ponyville more now that all of the dignitaries have sampled this town's finest artistry."

"And now that he's let go of his favorite golfing retreat," Filthy added with a wink.

Fancy rolled his monocled eye. "Yes, well..." He smiled at the teenager. "Downsizing is really a poetic synonym for 'simplifying.' Besides, I'm thinking of starting a new resort not that far from here. I've already moved most of the staff over from the golf retreat. Half of them have already been contracted to construct the new school on the outskirts of town!"

"New... school...?" Flash looked over his shoulder.

"It's..." Twilight shifted where she stood next to Starlight. "...a work in progress."

"Gonna have posters of cats dangling from trees in the guidance counselor's office?" Flash asked.

"Saaaaay..." Starlight rubbed her chin. "That's a cute idea!"

"Yeah. Good luck with that." Flash turned to the two stallions again. "Hey... when you guys get the idea of starting a new amusement park—Hoofworld Studios or whatever—just give me a call."

"Heheheheh..." Filthy Rich chuckled. He reached forward and patted Flash's shoulder. "Your charming wit and charisma will be sorely missed, my boy."

"Same here." Flash smiled gently. "Thanks for giving me a new appreciation for the word 'Filthy.'"

"By the way, Captain Typhoon sends his best regards," Fancy Pants said.

"Yeah? No shit?" Flash smirked. "I always sorta figured the ol' frowny-face didn't like me."

Fancy Pants leaned forward with an arched eyebrow. "Did you ever burn the Midnight Oil?"

"Uh... no?"

"There you have it!" Fancy stood back, grinning beneath his mustache. "Felicity all around!"

"Heheheheh..."

"Yes yes..." Fancy Pants' smile gave way to a warm expression. "Goddess speed to you in your future endeavors, ol' chap. We've most certainly... learned a fine lesson on peace, compromise, and sacrifice thanks to you."

"Yeah..." Flash exhaled. "...haven't we all..."

He turned to march down the line, and already he was wincing.

For he could already see the tears glistening on Lyra's face...

Exit

Descending the crystalline stairs of the castle basement, Flash Sentry spotted the portal immediately. In the manalight of the rectangular room—with his equine senses fully balanced—he could make it out in far greater detail than he ever bothered to before. The glossy blue ellipse was framed by a mess of rocket punk bric-a-brac that looked straight out of a Bethesda game, complete with sparkling tesla coils and whirring gyros. It resembled a steampunk torture device more than a gateway to another world.

Strangely fitting.

He shuffled to a slow trot once he reached the basement floor. The cold reality of the moment came to him, brushing like bone against his neckhairs. He came to a stop—if only to wait until the clopping hooves of those escorting him came to a stop. Once they did, he slowly turned around, gracing Starlight and the Princess first of all.

"Okay... I just gotta ask." Flash put on the last coy smirk he could afford that day. "Why do you girls keep this thing in the basement like some deathly dungeon summoning stone?"

It was Starlight who quipped back: "Would you keep your interdimensional monkey-world gateway beside the living room tea set?"

Flash nodded hard. "Very well put."

Twilight Sparkle was strangely quiet, so Starlight continued: "I guess this is where we say good bye, Flash... which is kind of awkward because we didn't get much of a chance to say 'hello.'"

He shook his head. "Nah..." His ears relaxed. "You gave me a really nice greeting, all things considered."

"You mean when I coldly escorted you out of the castle because I thought you were a squatter?" Starlight droned.

"Because you didn't kick my ass ten ways from Sunday." Flash stepped forward, eyebrow arched. "All things consideered, you were pretty gracious to this 'intruder.'"

She shrugged with a soft smile. "I've been to your world once before."

"And?"

"... ... ...you're not as dangerous as you think," Starlight said in a noticeably serious tone. Her ears folded slightly. "Nor are you the only one in this universe who wrestles with guilt."

"Or surpasses it."

"... ... ..." Her tail flicked as she managed a slight smile. "Heh. Yeah."

Flash reached forward...

...and Starlight bumped his hoof.

A warm breath, and Flash turned towards Twilight Sparkle. "Wanna roll in the hay?"

Twilight's eyes nearly popped. "Buhhhhhhhh."

Flash shrugged. "Eh. It was worth a shot." He trotted past her and approached Derpy. "Oh my god! A talking squirrel!"

Derpy giggled, full of life. Her cheeks flushed while her tail flicked. "You're always so silly..."

"Can't help it," Flash said in a low tone. "It's a silly world."

"Well, it's always been a nice world to me... every way I look at it. And I am looking at it more ways tha one... all the time." Derpy cleared her throat, her eyes rotating to focus on him. "Then you came along... and things got just a little bit nicer."

"I learned from the best," Flash said. "Nice job with the decorating back in the Empire."

"Heehee! I couldn't have done it without you, Mister."

"And the muffins...!" Flash's teeth showed beneath a genuine smile. "You really won over the Hawkeye Pack with those baked goods. At this rate, Prince Blueblood's gonna knight you!"

"Wooo!" Derpy pumped a hoof. "I always wanted to be a chess piece!"

Flash chuckled. He shook his head, gazing at the crystalline floor.

Derpy stared at him curiously.

He looked up, his ears drooped yet again. "...I wish I had gotten to talk to you sooner, Miss Hooves."

Her muzzle scrunched slightly. "You meannnnn... me? Or the other me?"

"Either or."

She shrugged. "I'm terribly clumsy. You can't be blamed for passing me by."

"You're so much more than that," Flash said. "What you call 'clumsiness,' I call an art of joy." He smiled tenderly. "You helped me find the sky, Miss Hooves."

"Awwwwww shucks..." She waved a hoof. "I just had to point you up. That's the one direction I'm good at."

He nodded. "'Limitless' is a smexy word, isn't it?"

She nodded back. "I hope you find the sky on the other side, Flash Sentry."

He dwelled her last words. "Thanks to you, I can." He clenched his jaw. He tensed his muscles. Then—like preparing to walk a bed of coals...

...he turned to face Soarin.

Soarin had put on his bravest smile by then. It had the resilience of a paper ceiling. His wings hung limply at his side.

"So..." Flash spoke first, his voice hoarse and struggling. "...teaching flight classes to a bunch of little kids...."

"Yeah..." Soarin exhaled, nodding shakily.

"...being surrounded by snot-nosed little horse larvae... little wings... feathers... giggles and screams... ... ..." Flash's words trailed off.

Soarin bit his lip, waiting.

Flash looked at him... looked at him some more... then shrugged. "... ... ...I got nothin'."

Soarin's eyes watered. He charged forward.

Flash met him with open arms. The two hugged fiercely, desperately, with the magnetism of long lost brothers. Someone choked on a sob, and Flash was more stung than relieved to know it was the former Wonderbolt who broke first.

Soarin wept quietly, hiding his tears in the crook of the younger stallion's neck. He fought the shivers off with a searing breath that pleaded through clenched teeth: "You don't have t-to do it, bro." He sniffled, squeezing Flash's withers with strong, loving forelimbs. "You don't have to do this march alone."

Flash stared past him. The world fogged, but he burned through it. "Take-off is two-thirds of the flight... and I didn't do that alone."

"Take some of us with y-you! Take an army with you! For Celestia's fr-friggin' sake—"

"She's given me something better than an army. You all have." Flash shifted back, if only to lean his forehead against Soarin's. "I couldn't have gotten to this point if it wasn't for everypony I met... but most of all you..."

"Dang it—"

"Dude, listen..." Flash spoke against him, closer than a heartbeat. "You saved me, alright?" He squeezed the back of Soarin's neck, nodding. "You saved me. I can't thank you enough. Can't thank you enough... for dealing with all my impulsive stupidity... for sticking your neck out for me... for being so goddamn patient with this stinkin' rotten kid."

"Where you're going, I can't..." Soarin gnashed his teeth. "...I c-can't protect you from h-here..."

"Yeah you will..." Flash smiled. He leaned back so that the other stallion could see it... along with the warmth and the gratitude in his eyes. "You've set me straight for the long haul. That's more than anypony has ever done for me. And I didn't even have to ask. You're just that awesome, and I'll never forget all you've done for me, dude. Never."

Soarin struggled through the next few breaths. His tears didn't vanish, but he found the strength to smile through them. "Can't help it. You're such a stupid, helpless goof."

"I was." Flash patted Soarin's shoulder. "Now you go teach other stupid, helfless goofs."

"Like myself?"

"Start with that, then upgrade to snot-nosed foals."

A final smile. Another breath, and they hugged it out once more... trembling as they parted ways.

"You know, that Miss Hooves..." Flash murmured, wagging an eyebrow through the fragile moment. "...I think she's got the hots for you."

Soarin blinked... then rolled his eyes with a slight chuckle. "You never quit, do you?"

"Nah, I mean it, broooo," Flash put a purposefully comical drawl to the last utterance, like a California surfer crawling out of a gutter. "Make her a ring out of muffins and I think you'll go places."

"Friggin' teenagers," Soarin muttered. "Everything's gotta be a romance novel."

"Now you're just stereotyping."

"... ... ..." Soarin fidgeted, his tears almost drying. "...you really think I have a chance with her?"

"You've hung out with her this long and you haven't caught fire yet."

"Come onnnnnnn..." Soarin snorted. "It's not that dangerous."

"You would know."

"Pffft... it's not like that."

"Whether it is or it isn't, I'm just happy for you, man," Flash said. His gaze swept the room. "I'm happy for all of you. I'm just..." His words lingered, for he knew that the moment he said it, the moment would have passed—as would the truth. "...happy."

Starlight Glimmer and Twilight Sparkle gazed at him with a twinge of sadness. Soarin had trotted backwards, limply. Derpy shuffled up to his side and gave him a sympathetic nuzzle. He leaned into her, and Flash sensed that he was on the verge of weeping again.

The whole scene—quiet and cold—left Flash with the ghostly sensation of being flung out of orbit. There was only one thing left to do.

"Well..." A shrug, a shuffle, and he turned around on tiny horse hooves. "Zoop."

He walked through the portal and all the colors of the world drained behind him.

Return

When Flash Sentry came out the other side, multiple sets of hands caught him. It was a good thing too, for his weeks as an Equestrian had diminished his skill at standing on two bipedal legs. He expected to meet people on the other side—what he hadn't expected were the hugs that he received. First Pinkie Pie, then Fluttershy, then Rarity and even Applejack. One by one, they took turns giving his awkward, teenage body a gentle embrace, showering him with smiles and cheers and affectionate statements. More than a few times he heard from the girls' harmonic lips just how "wonderful" and "nice" and "smashing" and "awesome" it was that he had returned home in one piece—that he hadn't gotten kidnapped or been run over by a car or mauled by a bear or forced into suicide by a hobo or all of the other hyperbolic rumors that had been floating around since his absence... most likely perpetuated by Pinkie Pie. The entire situation sobered him—but not half as much as the expression Sunset Shimmer gave Flash once he had stumbled through the assembled gaggle of seven.

At its fiercest, Sunset's gaze was still only half as stern as Flash had anticipated, and he wasn't certain how he was supposed to receive it. She approached him, murmuring a few chiding words that he was barely able to register in the dizzying moment. The world seemed smaller than he remembered, and the whole gray malaise of it swayed as he teetered on two gangly monkey legs. When Sunset finished with her monologue—no doubt chock full of wise, benevolent platitudes, it was her turn to hug him. It was a clumsy, sisterly affair, and Flash Sentry spent the whole time squinting awkwardly at Twilight Sparkle who stood pigeon-toe'd behind Sunset along the fringes of the school courtyard. Twilight bit her lip, and the two made their first visual connection in months. Both were tender, alien souls—still struggling with the most basic concepts of friendship, and Flash had to wonder why he had spent so long trying to avoid the look of her... as if the wilting violet was anywhere near as venomous and dangerous to the eye as he had long feared.

What came next was something Flash hadn't expected, but made sense in hindsight: a trip to the Principals' office. Celestia and Luna met with Flash, Sunset, and the rest of the girls. It had evidently been a pre-ordained affair... something worked out by Sunset Shimmer the top administers once Flash's location beyond the portal had been made known to the inclusive "clique" of Canterlot High. Upon first sight, Flash finally received the accusatory glares that he had expected. But—somehow, coming from Celestia and Luna—it was far less intimidating. The two women were a thousand years younger than when he saw "them" last, and he felt anything but fazed when they spoke in their mortal, authoritarian voices.

First came the obligatory "disappointment" speech, appropriately delivered by Luna. But that ended swiftly. Soon Celestia was talking about how they as a group—with the sacred knowledge of the portal and Equestrian magic at large—were collectively responsible for keeping the gateway off limits to "would-be-cross-dimensional-trespassers." Measures had to be put into place to keep other students from wandering through the door... no matter the emotional need or blind happenstance that brought them to it. Celestia promised to get right on assembling what she called "a protective barrier" around the portal. After all, the school was still intending on reconstructing the horse statue mascot atop the pedestal and a wrought-iron cage could potentially fit in with the gothic aesthetic. It was Twilight Sparkle who suggested that a locked gate be erected—with a corresponding set of keys that the group would keep in secret so that they could open it just for when Princess Twilight and other sanctioned individuals from Equestria endeavored to arrive, but only when previously "announced" through the communication that Sunset Shimmer kept with the Princess through her magical journal. Celestia and Luna mutually liked the idea, and they bounced it off the rest of the teenagers—as if the sovereign seven had suddenly become a harmonic council of magical defenders while Flash wasn't looking. He soon realized there was a lot more that he had missed out on since Camp Everfree than he had initially thought.

Sunset Shimmer softened up the entire conversation by claiming responsibility for everything that happened to Flash. Naturally, Principal Celestia dismissed the girl's statement—at least halfway—and she then proceeded to agree with corroborating with whatever excuse they had concocted to explain to the local law enforcement precisely why Flash had been missing for so long... which he found rather odd... or perhaps he didn't. Flash could scarcely think straight. His head was spinning from just standing bipedally in that room and he felt that his entire future existence was being decided by an estrogenical cabal of super-teenagers... which it probably was. In another life, perhaps, he would have been upset by this, but he was finding it extremely hard to care. The self-importance of the entire conversation was exhausting, and it was with blissful relief that he, Sunset, and the others took their leave.

From there, the group split ways. Flash found himself riding across town with Sunset and Twilight. At first, he didn't know precisely where they were going... until they met up with a tall, pale young man with a lantern-like jaw. He had electric blue hair and thin, matching blue eyes. It wasn't much of a shock that it turned out to be that Twilight's older brother Shining Armor... and it was even less surprising for Flash to learn that Shining was a first year rookie in the local police department. Apparently, Twilight—courtesy of Sunset's persuasion—had pulled some strings... or at least pulled Shining into pulling some strings. Sunset explained the whole situation to Flash: the working story was that he had run off on a whim to join some online buddies he knew and blow their collective money on a week spent at the second nearest town in order to sneak their way into a famous band's rock concert tour—among other delinquent activities. The whole scenario made Flash look like a ridiculously self-centered idiot. But—he figured—considering the place he had been over the past several months, people would be swift to believe it... or simply not care... or both. It was easy to settle for all of the above, and if Sunset and Twilight figured it could work, Flash wasn't one to argue.

Shining was scowling at him the entire time Sunset and Twilight gave their briefing, as if this whole unnecessary fiasco was all Flash's fault. It was, of course, and Flash was undeniably grateful for the risk that Twilight's older brother was taking to keep the truth of his ponied vacation from being exposed. Still, part of him couldn't shake the feeling that there was a certain degree of comical irony with how identical Shining's glare was to the suspicious squint given Flash by the equine prince from another world. He had a feeling that his presence there would only leave this world's Flash in the same place he left the other one—in a position of paranoia and distrust. Some battles simply couldn't be won.

Soon, the group split up, and Flash was in Shining's hands. The car ride to the police department was as frigid, icy, and silent as anyone could imagine. Shining outright refused to speak with the "wayward teen" that he had just "rescued," and Flash spent the entire time staring listlessly out the window of a four wheeled aluminum machine built by non-horse people in a non-horse land that ran off of dead dinosaurs. Flash had barely been back in this world for a full hour, and already everyone was bending over backwards to protect the magic... the secret of a better life that could be lived elsewhere by anyone impulsive enough—or dumb enough—to waltz through a giant rippling fart mirror. Part of Flash understood why it all had to be done like this, knowing full-well and first-hand the dangers of magic getting into the wrong hands. But it still felt so damnably insane. It didn't make him angry... just very subtly nauseated.

He pushed the sensation away once they arrived at the police department. Once there, Shining Armor performed in spades. He convinced his superiors that he had found Flash on the country road, abandoned by his online buddies who—no doubt broke and dejected—ditched him without warning and took off for the nearest highway onramp, well beyond legal jurisdiction. Flash was questioned—and he did his casual best to maintain the story that Sunset and Twilight had made-up. It seemed to work, or else the officers nodding at him were too bleary-eyed to care. Within the next hour, he was being escorted home by squad car—a job that Shining gladly gave up to the first volunteers.

Next came the inevitable. When the car rolled up to the driveway, his parents were already running out of the house. They were all smiles, hugs, and kisses—which is how Flash knew that he wasn't the only one pretending, and it relieved some of the tension. He held his breath, and soon after both legalities and pleasantries were exchanged, he trudged into the house along with his kin. The moment the door was slammed shut to both the sunset and the departing cops outside, the howling began.

Four letter words flew hotly across the foyer from veiny throats and red faces. Father was a no good lazy son of a bitch and his son became just as horrible a slob all because of him. Mother was a two-faced whore whose vindictive cold-heartedness infected the youngest of the house to emulate her wild stunts. He was guilty of fraternizing too much in the workplace and not spending enough time cultivating values at home. She was guilty of watching rotten television shows that put all sorts of wild and carefree thoughts into a dumb young millennial's impressionable head. There was a myriad crooked insinuations about Flash's character, but somehow the veiled insults were only halfway hurled at him. If nothing else, it was all ammo to get on each other's cases, to righteously crucify the black sheep in the room as an example before their son as some sort of holocaustal solution for the last week's gauntlet of needless agony.

Flash didn't have to say a single word. He simply sat there on the couch, his chin propped lethargically in his hands as he listened to the missiles flying overhead. And it got loud... and it got serious. At one point, a fist was shaken and somebody threw something that shattered against the wall and the words "I hate you" were screamed repeatedly by his mother like a righteous valkyrie mounting her steed...

And then it ended. And that was the worst part of all. Flash perked up in alarm—not at the shouting, but at the abrupt silence as both members of the would-be-armageddon marched off to their separate battlements and slammed the doors shut between them. Which meant it hadn't all ended... for it hadn't even begun. Suddenly, Flash was certain that the next day would continue just like yesterday had. And that was a tragedy.

Flash sighed. He didn't eat that night. He wasn't sure he could ever eat again. He took a shower... a long shower—where he was reacquainted with long, dreary shadows. Long lost friends.

They followed him into bed where he had just as much luck sleeping as he did eating. The dust and the darkness was just the same as when he had left it. His parents hadn't even bothered to walk in there and clean house to cover the anxiety of missing him. It wasn't so much a sad feeling as it was absurd, and it gnawed at his subconscious. Nevertheless, Flash knew he had to get a full night's rest.

Because the very next day...

Here

...Flash Sentry got on the bus and he rode to school.

He hadn't slept. At all. The last time he got any semblance of shuteye was when he was lying numb on a royal bed deep in the Crystal Empire, and at the time he had only been numbed to exhaustion from sobbing his eyes out in the comfort of magical horse friends.

Nevertheless, with so much sleep being missed, he felt more awake than ever that morning... at least more awake than those sharing the bus ride with them. And as he stared at their slumped bodies... their nodding heads... their ragdoll misery that rolled with the bumps and the jolts and the lurches of the grimy state-issued metal tube on wheels, Flash wondered if they ever once knew wakefulness... or if a day would come that they might rise out of the grave.

The bus arrived at CHS. Flash hopped off; the others shuffled like zombies. They weren't alone—the rest of the students rolled in through the front entrance with the same necrotic dance. Flash marched firmly through the bright hallways, blinking. He felt tall—at least a foot taller than the wheat field of bowed heads and sunken expressions all around. He gawked curiously at them, like a sheltered tourist cruising through a war-torn country.

Everyone's head was bowed. Eyes sunken. Pupils absorbed with the flickering reflection of iPhone screens and mobile apps and news reports and Twitter pages. An entire student body of starved lampreys scouring the checkerboard floor of an abysmal trench, scraping for signs of life among sterile plastic. Occasionally there were smiles—even laughter—but Flash felt he had seen it all before, a rerun stuck on repeat, hollow and programmed.

He tried lifting his gaze above everyone else, and he found it remarkably easy. In so doing, Flash discovered colors he hadn't seen in as long as he could remember. Gold trophies beyond shiny glass cases. Bulletin boards plastered with blue and red ribbons announcing dances, club meetings and band recitals. Adorable animal shelter advertisements lined with pink trim, christened with Fluttershy's unmistakable handwriting. At one corner, there was a drop-box dusted in purple and blue glitter where students could leave suggestions concerning ideas for next month's community fundraiser. One wall even had a dazzling collage full of snapshots of smiling students, collected from over a year's worth of freelance photography.

The borders of yesterday's periphery had been bespeckled in rainbows all along. But when Flash looked back at the student body forming the current of such a pastel artery, all he saw was the backs of bowed heads, the flicker of phone screens, and the occasional scowl or eye roll or middle finger.

He arrived at homeroom later than usual. Only a few faces glanced twice at him. Flash Sentry's glorious return to the mortal coil was celebrated with mute fanfare at best, and the moment had passed in less time it took to pass gas. He sat tall in his desk, staring ahead with eyes wide like a deer caught in the headlights. He looked at his teacher and she seemed a lot older than he remembered. A tired hand rubbed a hangover out of three decades' worth of wrinkles, or tried to. There were too few pictures on the faculty member's desk, and none of them smiles. The classroom was silent as a sepulcher, and her corner the quietest. Flash wondered at what point in her existence she gave up her life for a thankless pursuit... and how deep into the muck of it she accepted the diminishing rewards as something sane, normal, or even realistic. Could she even climb out of it at this point? Would she have the capacity to survive the pitfalls and perils it took to make such a leap at that age?

The bell rang. The undead jolted out of their seats via electrical shock. They landed in the first period class and so did Flash. It was math, and he was a full week behind in lessons, but nobody cared—the instructor less so. And yet—for the first time in days—Flash bothered to. He found that all it took was a few flips of the textbook, and the numbers fell into place, like gravity. He finished each equation assigned to him that day with the greatest of ease. Sure, he cut corners in a few spots, but math was math. It solved itself. It was only humans who were ignorant of the path in between until they connected the dots. He did so admirably, and he tackled a few of the next day's problems with just as much vigor while the rest of the class battled sleep and drool all around him. Just before the period ended, he took the manic risk of showing his teacher the extra work he had done. He was scolded for his efforts—told rather passive aggressively not to leap blindly into the next leg of the curriculum until the appropriately allotted task was officially assigned.

When the bell rang again, Flash sat there in a momentary stupor, blinking off the fact that he had done more than what was required of him and yet was rewarded nothing. And just what was the end-goal of math? Numbers were limitless, like the sky. Even if he scaled the rungs all his life, he'd never reach the top, for there was no top. Maybe he'd become an accountant or a rocket scientist someday. Maybe he wouldn't. Either way, he felt that being fully prepared in mathematics would leave him... woefully unprepared. What's a drop in the bucket of eternity? Why pretend to learn something when he could just live it?

One segment of his systematic schedule had ended, and he was required to relocate himself to the next. So he did. Biology was just as much a breeze as math—suddenly—and he poured through the day's lesson just as fervently. All of a sudden, setbacks didn't faze him. Even if he had a hard time understanding something, it only meant that the solution—the truth—was elsewhere to be found, and circumnavigating the challenge could only prove stimulating. The only thing that dragged him behind... was the three other students he had been forced to partner up with for the day's lab assignment. One spent the entire class period looking at his phone. Another kept talking to her friend in the next group over, and the third practically slept the whole time. In the end, despite Flash's diligence, the assignment simply couldn't be completed. He expected to get reprimanded by the teacher for failing... but in the end the instructor simply brushed it off. He was too busy with something on his computer and he scarcely even noticed when the bell rang. The student left before they could be officially dismissed.

Flash stumbled out of the room—and nearly got clocked in the jaw by a flailing elbow. In his absent-mindedness, the teenager had stumbled into a fight. Two boys wandering through the hallway had gotten into some kind of an argument and it had blown up into a full-on wrestling match. Entangled in each other's angry limbs, they pinballed off a few lockers and then collapsed to the floor. For the very first time that morning, the souls of those trudging through the school flickered to life, and a tight huddle of chanting, hissing students gathered around the two combatants. Cell phones were held out at arm's length, recording the awkward fiasco for all eternity.

It was with a furrowed brow that Flash observed the scene. Everyone seemed so small... like tiny gerbils converging in the corner of a filthy, uncleaned cage. He was almost certain he had seen the exact same fight in a kindergarten playground once. Every punch and kick that the sprawled-out teenagers attempted only contacted with backpack or floor. The whole pointlessness of the situation was almost cute, in a way.

He walked away from it and proceeded towards his locker. It was lunch time and he might as well empty out half his backpack. When he got there, he saw the lip of a piece of paper sticking partially out of one of the slitted openings. His eyes made out a word at the bottom of the scrap: "yourself." With mild curiosity, he clasped the edge of the note in between two fingers and yanked the rest of the paper out. Now he could read the message in its entirety, slathered in casual handwriting: "You should have just killed yourself."

Flash merely blinked, neither alarmed nor angry. What was one more careless threat in a heartless world? Nevertheless, his head turned to the sound of thinly-stifled snickering. Off in the hallway's distance, beyond the criss-cross of rushed passerby's, he spotted two familiar figures: Flower Print and Hank. The two amused teenagers pretended to be conversing with other students, when in fact they took more than one opportunity to peer in Flash's direction with venomous smiles.

He barely returned so much as a wink. In more ways than one, Flash simply felt... sorry. With a few programmed motions, he opened the backpack and changed out his books. Everything inside the locker was just how he left it—static, predictable, unchanging. He closed the locker and gladly turned his back towards it, heading swiftly to the cafeteria next. When he passed the two authors of the note, he sensed more than a little bit of agitated shuffling... as if they were utterly shocked at his lack of response. He gave them no further satisfaction of sticking around, not that he felt it would accomplish anything... but simply because he knew there was nothing more to salvage than there was to ruin about the moment.

While waiting in line for lunch, someone Flash once argued with in freshman year pretended to trip just as an excuse to "shove" Flash super hard against the wall. Flash's shoulder stung from the impact, but he sandbag'd the gesture... as he did the next two more forceful and less stealthy shoves to the back. Eventually, the pimply agitator gave up. Flash didn't see his face directly, nor could he even remember his name.

He was too busy listening to the souls all around him, murmuring and snickering between scarfed bites of artificial preservatives:

"Of course they're gonna fucking lose the election. Serves them right—especially Whathisface McScrotumhead. Everyone knows that cuck and his whole party's balls-deep in the pockets of those dirty thieving kikes on Wall Street."

"Pfft! Hell no she won't buy me an Xbox! Why? Because my mom's a stupid heartless bitch, that's why! Gawd... just abort me in the womb, why don'tcha?"

"What a fucking faggot. You should have seen him trying to talk shit to me the other day for saying how much the school's baking club sucks. Man, if I was so lame as to play white knight for a fat cow like Pinkie Pie I would have at least had her blow me first. Hahaha...!"

"And, oh my god, who honestly cares about frickin' Syria? Wars in the Middle East are like fidget spinners. They'll be over long before anybody in the real world even gives a shit."

"And then he got all up in my grill, started calling me a whole bunch of urban ghetto crap, y'know. And I just smiled at him and said, 'Don't blame me for the police doing their job! It's not my fault you were born black!'"

"I say screw 'em! Y'know? Like... if you can't balance a budget to keep your stinkin' little island clean enough to at least look American, then you sure as Hell have no right asking the government for more money! Tch... hope the next friggin' hurricane drowns 'em all."

"I swear if Kanye doesn't release another album this year I'm going to slit my fucking wrists."

"And it's not like my sex life is any of my parents' god damn business. I mean—what's the worse that can happen? We have fixes for everything these days! Well... maybe not in Texas, but you know what I mean. Hahahaha..."

Flash sat over his meal, looking across the tables full of chattering, nibbling creatures. Between every vulgar utterance and snide remark, there would be the occasional smile and laugh—but it was all over in a heartbeat, a passing facade made out of something thinner than paper and thrice as flammable. In the cold fluorescent light of the public school, Flash noticed a fine sheen—perhaps perspiration, perhaps something else just as oily and desperate—like everybody was in a panic to cover themselves... to throw a shroud over the inescapable horror of silence that hungrily clung to every lingering refrain. And beneath the overlaying surface of abrasive bravado and smug nothingness—what was so dangerous? What was so devouring? He gazed beyond it all, and he saw himself—the self he used to be, mirrored in sporadic clusters of lone wallflowers... students eating alone under colorless, depressing clouds of isolation and detachment and surrender. They were the first victims of the unrelenting depths of life, and Flash observed every sneering, villainous cretin treading water in the center, blindly struggling to paddle themselves above the pull of the riptide. The only thing that bound the water in manageable currents was the system that walled them all in... that kept them imprisoned along the pathways of the same culture that spawned them there. It was the result of the blind leading the blind, all down the frothy center of an endless maelstrom birthed upon human civilization's first murder of hope, on some day long forgotten.

Flash dwelt on this as he left the cafeteria. It was then that he awoke to the fact that his phone had been buzzing practically all day. He took his first glance at it—and he saw multiple texts from Sunset Shimmer: all friendly, all supportive. She repetitively offered an ear for him to talk to and asked multiple times if he was handling his first day back alright. Then—in subsequent messages—she appeared more and more alarmed that he hadn't yet responded.

Flash looked up, perhaps expecting a redheaded girl to be scouring the hallways in search for him. Instead, he bumped thoughtlessly into Mr. Turner, his guidance counselor. He appeared overjoyed at Flash's return—enough to morally forgive the teenager for his "misguided actions" with his "online friends" over the past week, proof that Mr. Turner had no doubt been briefed by Principal Celestia, armed with the same working fabrication concocted by Sunset and Twilight. The counselor's entire friendly greeting was merely a precursor to inviting Flash for a long-belated meeting at his office, and to Mr. Turner's legitimate surprise, Flash agreed. Within minutes, the two were sitting in Mr. Turner's room, hunched over a computer and flanked by the usual posters of dead cats battling for balance on tree branches. To every question the guidance counselor asked, Flash returned with a far more Socratic inquiry, and soon the two were enthusiastically perusing local college applications and career opportunities and every other cliche thing in the book. Soon, Mr. Turner was running circles just to dredge up information for Flash to take home and "research," and Flash was amazed at just how... easy it was to wind the man up... to send him on his laps... all with the tiniest hint of an assurance that he was somehow interested in what Mr. Turner was offering.

Flash wasn't interested, of course. But he played along... simply because he found that he could almost do so professionally. He told Mr. Turner that he was interested in taking on a career in anthropology, and that his psychology courses were a means of gearing him towards an advanced sociological perspective in the field. This gave Mr. Turner the impetus to bring up online searches for European universities offering classes to international students seeking apprenticeship abroad, and away Mr. Turner went, ignited by an inspiring lie. Flash stared intently at him the whole time... realizing that with just a few years and a few extra layers of body fat, he and Mr. Turner could very easily become the same person, overjoyed by the prospect of slim promises to achieve everything, but rendering nothing. Flash wondered when was the last time someone like Mr. Turner ever experienced true joy... if he had ever flown somewhere on magical horse wings or staved off war between sentient canines and horses by sheer virtue of having walked through a mirror on wild impulse. Was there any room in Mr. Turner's life for the unknown, despite all of his accomplishments, or was he fated to ferry more and more creatures down the same path that had ultimately cocooned him in a suit and tie, caked with baking grease.

A few extra pamphlets were shoved into Flash's backpack, then—with a pat on the back and a hall pass—he was sent on his way. His second-to-last class was, coincidentally enough, advanced psychology and it was positioned in a portable building to the rear of Canterlot High. He stepped outside and roamed the grounds. Passing the bleachers, he smelled a whiff of marijuana smoke. Students were loitering off along the edge of the football field, breaking god-knows how many rules by simply being there, but they giggled off the moment... going anywhere and nowhere and not caring in between.

Flash's phone vibrated again. He looked at it, and saw more messages from Sunset. She was panicking by now, most likely due to his silence, and for a moment he wondered if she had reason to. The air smelled of garbage—everywhere smelled like garbage. In the distance, sirens echoed against unwashed buildingsides. Jet planes roared overhead, spilling more exhaust into the atmosphere of a dying planet. Across the country, someone was being raped. Across the world, someone was being bombed to pieces. The air was getting hotter and the water was getting filthier and all the advancements and all the miracles and all the progressive accomplishments of science did nothing but corral more and more infants into the gaping, starving maw at the head of the grand serpent. And there Flash stood—frozen upon the fringes of tomorrow—with a hall pass in one hand and a magic think box in the other.

He exhaled. Reaching back, he unzipped his backpack and reached in deep. He pulled out a pair of white-and-blue headphones. Turns out... they were too big for a housecat.

He gazed at his reflection in the spotless sheen of the device. And then he looked up.

The sky was crystal clean... blue... beautiful... like everything was meant to be... like everything still could be for those crazy enough to see through it.

Yes...

Yes... maybe Sunset did have a reason to be panicked.

Flash Sentry stuck the headphones back into his backpack... and turned around. He walked across the campus... across the football field... across the sidewalk...

He left the school altogether. Nobody saw him trudge off last time... and nobody would spot him now. When he was two blocks away in the middle of town, he passed a garbage can on the sidewalk that was spilling over. Without much thought, he dropped his hall pass inside it...

And then he dropped his cell phone in.

And kept walking.

Reform

Flash Sentry arrived at his home.

When he saw the driveway empty, he breathed a sigh of relief.

Neither of his parents were there. Apparently their dramatic and violent confrontation the night before was not traumatic enough to keep them from their jobs. It would be hours before they returned.

That gave Flash more than enough time.

He went straight for his room. There, he dug into his closet and found the large backpack he had last used for the trip to Camp Everfree. Between that, his school bag, and a spare duffel bag found in the corner, he packed as many clothes, tools, food, and other necessities that he could find. When he was done with all that, he did something he hadn't expected himself to do in months.

He booted up his computer.

The desktop hummed to life, groaning a bit with the labor it suddenly had to endure once again. So much dust had collected across the monitor that Flash forced himself to wipe it all clean with a swipe of his arm. As he brought up the web browser, he silently guessed how many unread messages and alerts from online friends he might have received. One hundred? Five hundred? When at last he booted up his e-mail account, he found a grand total of fifteen... which gave him his first laugh since parting ways with Soarin... and it was a dry, somber chuckle at that.

Some things would not hurt to leave behind.

The first thing he did was delete all his previous messages—along with browser history and available links. Next, he signed on to the website of the family's chosen bank. It took a few clicks for him to access the two accounts under his name: both savings and checking. He funneled all the money from his savings—the entire remaining profit from having sold his car almost a year ago—and shoved it into his bank account. When that was done, he scrambled all his passwords, set his computer to reformat, and then automatically shut off.

It almost felt like putting a dying pet out of its misery. In any case, Flash hoisted his bags of belongings with him and left his room for the last time. There were not parting glances left to savor. It was drowning in dust for a reason, after all.

Letter

My dear friends,

For you are truly all my friends—whomever of you ultimately picks this up. Whether it be Sunset Shimmer, Twilight Sparkle, Rainbow Dash or Applejack, Rarity or Fluttershy or Pinkie Pie, Principal Luna or Principal Celestia—hell—even Mr. Turner or the lunch lady or Hank or Kyle or Chris from the old gang. Even if I don't know you and you're reading this, I still consider you a friend, because we're all in this together. I just didn't own up to the part I had to play in it all until just recently, and I'm the only one to blame for that.

Anyways, whoever you are, please don't be worried. No, I'm not committing suicide or doing anything else horrible like that.

And, despite where this envelope was found, no, I haven't gone back to Equestria either. I can't go back there. Not anymore... at least not now. Another time—after I've gotten things worked out—then maybe. But that's not my destiny for the time being. That I can say with absolute certainty. What my destiny actually is...? That's the true mystery, and it'd be pretty darn stupid for me—or for any of us, for that matter—to pretend to know what it is... or to pretend that we can actually be prepared for what it is. Doing what we're doing now. Doing what I have been doing all this time up until now, at least.

But, truth is, I am leaving. Where am I going? I can't say. Not that I don't want to share, but simply because I don't know where I'm going. I haven't discovered yet. I'm not sure when I will discover. Maybe it'll take a week to start my new life. Maybe it'll take years. But one thing I do know for sure is that I can't stay here. Nobody can stay here. Nobody should stay here... or where they are... or where they're told to be.

It's just too damn toxic. For me, at least. Maybe it's on account of the fact that I've had my eyes opened recently. Or perhaps it's just because I've gone insane. Take it as you will, but being here is killing me... and staying here will bury me. And I've come so far and learned so much and I mean so much to this universe to let any of that happen. So I must remove "here" from the equation... and just let the math solve itself. Like gravity.

I must move on. To where? I don't know. Anywhere, I suppose... so long as I am learning in my doing... instead of doing-nothing in my so-called 'learning.' I really honestly don't know who it was who sat down and wrote the rules of life that say that we have to roll over for the system that compartmentalizes us... but they were wrong. And that's not to say that anarchy should reign supreme or that we can kill and maim and screw anyone and anything as we feel like. Only a mad man would accept that sort of a lifestyle. And yet—are we not all mad men who somehow think that this is okay? This systematic cattle chute that funnels us down into predictable cookie-cutter careers of lethargic acceptance?

Look. We live in a cruddy world. It's always been horrible and it always be horrible. There are those who say that we've only ever improved and gotten better over time. And I agree. Human civilization has indeed improved and gotten better... at dishing out the horribleness to more and more people. That's the real tragedy—the relative static nature of "awful" that permeates every generation that has ever lived. And that's not to say that there aren't the exceptional altruistic selfless few who would saw off their own leg to feed a family of four. Such heroes are admirable... but I won't become one of them by staying here. I won't become anything by staying here... by just giving in... by accepting that somehow this is the way things should always be.

Somebody's gotta do something. Even if none of us exactly knows or affords what that something is... it doesn't change the fact that we gotta act... we gotta move... we gotta live... live through the moment and live through the filth and live through each other. We can't achieve perfection and we'd be foolish to try... but we gotta try anyways, for as long as we wait for someone else to try in our stead—alone or in bunches—all that ever happens is the waiting and not the changing, and then nothing ever gets done and we'd might as well have given up by accepting the here and now instead of the there and then.

Something profound has happened to me. Something beautiful. Something miraculous. Something that I put off for far too long because I was too busy dwelling on the past and feeling sorry for myself and suckling on the delicious teats of living life dead. I touched magic with my bare hands—well, hooves—and it had a healing effect on me. But the healing is over with, and now I must move on from that magic and do what I can for the real world. I can't say that this magic would do the same thing for everyone else, but that's the thing about divine revelations. It's all relative, and the only inspiration that matters is the kind that gets people to act... and to act in a way that's beneficial to everyone else. I can't say yet if I'm actually destined to do great things for people, because that's a pretentious cherry on an already pretentious sundae. But the difference between what I believed in yesterday and what I believe in now is that today's inspiration is taking me somewhere real. I would like to think that each and every one of you who reads this gets taken someplace someday as well. We should all be so lucky to live life twice.

Sunset, if you're reading this, please know that I'm happy for everything you've done for me, and I understand the lengths that you and Twilight and Shining Armor and Celestia and Luna and the rest of the gang have gone to in order to protect what's beyond the mirror. Even if it made me look like a even goofier moron—which is admittedly funny and well-deserved in hindsight—I'm not even the slightest bit offended. What you've done for CHS and the world at large—and what you continue to do—is a blessing to everyone who stands to benefit from harmony. You've saved my life more than once, which is precisely why I've decided not to waste that gift. Please know that I aim to take all of the lessons that you and the gals have taught me by heart... wherever I may happen to take them.

Celestia and Luna, I apologize for all the trouble I've caused you. You certainly don't deserve it, and it touches my heart that you were willing to work alongside Sunset Shimmer to keep me enrolled at your school. While I freely admit that I feel like CHS has drowned me with toxicity from time to time, I don't find that to be a fault of your administration. Even with all the virtues of harmony at our disposal, there'll always be a few bad eggs. I've just come to learn that there really is no way for me to reach out to them, but that doesn't mean I can't reach out to others. There's a big world out there. You've both found your part to play, and now it's high time I found mine.

For my parents, I can't imagine that this turn of events will come easy. In fact, I hope it doesn't. I fully expect this to be the final straw that breaks the camel's back. And if there's any justice left to be dredged from this crazy world, it will finally convince the two of them to part ways... for that would indeed be the healthiest decision either of them could have made for themselves in decades. Please know that I'm in no way complaining about the way I was raised—they both fed me and provided for me and they didn't abuse me. Not intolerably, at least. But the worst thing I could possibly do to show my gratitude is stick around. All these years, I've amounted to nothing but needless glue holding together a sinking ship. I wish Mom and Dad happiness and prosperity... wherever their dual paths may lead them.

Sunset, I know it's not my place to make requests of you at a time like this. Nevertheless, I would selfishly ask that you put a good word in to Soarin back in Equestria for me. If you don't know who that is, I promise you that Princess Twilight does. If Soarin asks about me and where I've been, tell him I'm off to save the world. And if that proves too hyperbolic, then just be honest: I'm going away somewhere to find myself and then find ways to help those around me. If he's worried, tell him not to be. I'm way more friggin' equipped to deal with what lies ahead than he is—in this world, at least. And I still owe him for all he's done for me in Equestria—which I shall always hold dearly to my heart. That one week in horseland means more for me and has taught me far more than twelve years of public school education. Since the big goof is becoming a teacher and all—a flight teacher—I'm certain part of him will be amused by that. And if he isn't, tell him I'll come over personally and torture his funny bone myself. Because I do intend to see him again someday. I intend to see everyone again someday.

But that's going to be a while from now. How long? I don't know. Maybe it's going to be years from now. Maybe it'll be forever from now... because—let's be honest here—I don't know if whether or not what I'm doing is going to end up getting me killed. That's not to freak anyone out, but just being true-to-facts. I'm walking into the great unknown. It seems pretty idiotic from the get-go, but people don't ever become heroes just by playing it safe. I've spent my whole life taking from this world; now I must find a way to give back. The last thing I've decided to take is a risk, and this is it. No more sticking around. I'm making the leap. And before anyone calls me impulsive or childish for doing this, just know that it's been a long time coming. All my life, this moment has been coming. Equestria? That was the one true impulsive thing, and in the end it was just preparation for this. Some of us put on magical geodes, summon rainbow-colored dress spheres and kick abominable Everfree homunculi in the face. Others start a cross-country life on the road. Pick your crazy, but we're all out to change the world. That—I think—is what matters. It's where I matter... and it's why I can't stay here.

And please know that I don't do this to spite you. I do—in fact—very much love you. Each and every one of you... on this side of the mirror and beyond. You have all been such wonderful and supportive and endearing friends to me. As I once heard Princess Twilight say, Friendship is Magic. But Magic is only the start of the solution, and now I'm on the road to discover the rest. Thank you, Soarin, Sunset, and the rest—for helping me get a good tailwind.

Sincerely, with love and respect and harmony,

-Flash Sentry

There

A golden sunset dimmed beyond the long, winding road ahead. Flash Sentry stood in place with his bagged belongings, sweating after the half-kilometer hike from the heart of town, and for whatever reason—he was smiling.

McCracken Trail.

He exhaled... neither depressed nor dreamlike. Simply... alive. For the first time in his existence, he was moving. Not through a depressed cloud or through an equestrian dream... but forward. He had only stopped for a breath.

And then some. This was the beginning of something, after all. At least—if nothing else—something had certainly ended.

There was a wooden log up ahead—a thick and fallen tree branch that lay perpendicular to the road. Flash knew this because it was once the point-of-no-return, the place he would often park his car at and just... gaze into the mountains and forests beyond. Somewhere past the crest of the nearby hills there lay a glint of grayness, hinting at other townships stretching past the immediate wilderness. Moan all he wanted to about human civilization, it certainly had a colorful knack for branching outward with a seemly poetic ambition.

Certainly enviable, that ambition. After the next moment and onward, it would serve to be his one and only home.

Flash stepped forward until he loomed over the log. He placed one bag down, then the second, then the third. At long last—with a prolonged exhale—he sat himself down on the wooden branch. There, he gazed down the winding lengths of McCracken Trail. At that time of the waning day, he couldn't spot any "brighter pastures." But that was alright. He had just recently seen enough green to last a lifetime.

The air was warm and the cicadas were in full buzz. Songbirds quieted before the onset of early evening, and the clouds above turned from crimson to magenta.

It was a beautiful enough of a living painting to tickle the hairs of the pony ears he no longer had. On a somewhat related whim, Flash reached into his largest bag and pulled out the headphones Vinyl Scratch had given him. As it turned out, they fit perfectly over his human cranium. Curiosity got the best of him, and he flipped a switch designed for a hoof. Sure enough, whatever residual magic remained inside the device played a trance track made by the one and only DJ-P0N3. It was a musical score Flash hadn't ever heard before, and that made it all the better. He took the moment to cherish something unknown that wouldn't be frought with peril. In so doing, he closed his eyes...

...and instead of a burning sunset over unkempt asphalt, Flash saw rolling emerald hills kissed with morning dew. In the distance, snow-capped mountains dotted with royal spires glistened in the sunlight. Winged bodies flew to and fro, laughing and spiraling daredevilish tricks in the air. Soarin was among them—him and his goofy grin. He and Derpy Hooves flew wing-and-wing together from horizon to horizon, and they painted the hills with their smiles. Over a crest of earth, the Castle of the Crystal Empire arose. The Midnight Oil cruised hive above, captain'd by the stalwart Typhoon and escorted by Spitfire with her neverending smolder. Somewhere deep inside the aircraft's cabin, Prince Blueblood boasted about canine diplomacy while Canterloy nibbled away at some exquisite plate of gourmet hay. Through the portholes, the aurora over the Empire could be seen, and off on a crystalline balcony somewhere Flash could spot Lyra and Bon Bon cooing at the glittering sight... while somewhere below the Cakes trotted hoof and hoof with their foals on their backs as they exchanged loving gazes. Filthy Rich and Fancy Pants held a business meeting outside over martini glasses while Octavia performed for the other patrons seated beside them. The song was a cello instrumental of the title song off of Radiohead's Kid A, and when Miss Melody was done she threw Flash a thankful wink across time and space, which Vinyl Scratch wove together in a final instrumental of tapering notes.

And when Flash Sentry returned, it was with a smile on his face, a smile christened by tears. They were something he was starting to get used to. Who knows what else he could learn to live with beyond the next horizon?

Then—just as Vinyl's track ended—a new sound filled its place. That of an engine revving hard, then idling to a stop. Immediately after, there was the sound of fleeting footsteps, accompanied by a yelping voice.

With mild, mellow curiosity, Flash removed the headsets from his ears and turned around...

...just in time to see a redheaded young teenager stumbling towards him from an open car, out of breath.

"Flash! Flash Sentry!" Wheezing, sweating—her hair disheveled from an unimaginably panicked ride to that location—Sunset Shimmer scuffled to a stop. "There you are!" She bent over, planting her hands against her knees as she wheezed and heaved. "Holy c-crap! Thank Celestia...!"

Flash calmly stared at her. "Heya, Sunny..."

Everywhere

"Wait... just... please... don't..." Sunset seethed through her teeth, rising up as she slowly regained her breaths. "Flash... stay... right... where... you are... please..."

"Hey... look at you..." Flash nodded towards the vehicle half-parked on the grass lane behind her. Its lights were still on and the air freshner hanging from the rear view mirror hadn't yet stopped swaying. "Since when did you start driving?"

"I'msogladIfoundyou...!" Sunset stood up straight at last, wiping the sweat from her brow. "Holy Tartarus, you had me so friggin' worried—"

"An Audi, huh?" Flash arched an eyebrow. "Strange. Somehow, you always struck me as the motorcycle type—"

"Will you shut up about the damn car?!" Sunset shrieked, eyes flaring, and Flash was ashamed to feel that it came out as halfway adorable. Within a few seconds, she took a deep breath and exhaled with yoga-like motions of her arms—which he also found adorable. "Just... for once in your young life—please, Flash—will you not make a joke or quip or—"

"I take it you got the letter."

"... ... ..." Sunset's fists clenched as she nodded breathily. "Yes, Flash. I read that letter you wrote. From top to bottom." A firm gulp. "Fluttershy found it first. And she shared it with Rainbow Dash. And then she zipped across four whole city blocks in a blink to share it with me. And for the past frickin' hour the seven of us have been looking all across the dang city trying to find your crazy ass and—"

"How'd you know I'd be here?"

Sunset blinked. She stretched a hand out—motioning down the winding road. "McCraken Trail." Another swallow. "Where the heck else would you be at such a crazy 'soul-searching' moment of your life?"

"Ah..." Flash nodded. He hadn't moved from his spot on the log, and his hands were calmly resting on his knees. "...so you were listening to me when I rambled like a sappy goof after those long car rides."

"Well of course I listened, Flash!" Sunset exclaimed.

"I just figured you were too busy—"

"What? Being a crazy rotten powermongering bitch?" Sunset planted her hands on her hips. "Is that what you were going to say? Cuz it's true! I'd be the first to admit it!"

"... ... ..." He shrugged before saying calmly: "I was going to say you had 'different priorities' at the time, Sunset. But we're both past that. We're different people now."

"What—" Sunset started. "Flash—" She started again. Her forehead creased, and she rubbed her temples with what must have been the mother of all migraines as she slowly approached the log. "Tell me... please... what is it that you're trying to accomplish here, exactly?"

"You read the letter, right?" Flash shrugged once more. "I can't stay anymore. I've chosen to go out and find a better life for myself where I can—"

"No, what you're doing is pulling another Celestia-damned stunt!" She said, bearing an iron-wrought frown. "Just look at yourself, Flash!" She gestured at his three bulging backpacks. "What is this?! Rehearsal for the Hobo Olympics?"

"I don't need any of the crud I left at home," Flash muttered. "Or home, for that matter."

"What you need is a swift kick in the ass!" Sunset frowned, her fists forming fists again. "I mean—what's wrong with you?! If it isn't one psychotic extreme, then it's the other!"

"Sunny—"

"Don't 'Sunny' me!" She hissed, but there was a touch of vulnerability in her eyes, glossed over with fear. "What's the matter with relying on your friends, huh?! What part of 'we're all here for you, Flash' don't you friggin' understand?!" She gestured wildly. "Do you know how many times we tried to text you during your first day back?! Or did you just dump your cell phone on the school grounds again?"

"No, don't be ridiculous."

"Well, alright, then."

"... ... ...I tossed it into a garbage bin two blocks away in downtown."

"Unnnghhhh..." Sunset facepalmed. Hard.

Flash scratched the back of his neck. "Along with the hall pass Mr. Turner gave me for my psychology class, but... somehow I don't think that matters anymore. The hall pass, I mean." He smiled crookedly. "Still, Psychology 101 can go take a swan dive off the edge of my—"

"Flash, just... stop it!" Sunset shrieked, her voice echoing off the nearby pine trees. Her eyes clenched tight with the force of her outburst. "Just. Stop. All of this!"

He gazed at her silently.

She shook. She shivered. Then—when her eyes finally reopened—they were full of tears. "This is all my f-fault." A hiccup. More tears. "All of it. It's all my fault. I kn-know it. But does th-that mean you gotta keep punishing me like this?"

"Punishing you?" At last, Flash Sentry stood up and approached her. "Sunset, this is not your fau—"

She flinched away from him. "It is too!" She hugged herself, fighting hyperventilation as the tears flowed, doubling. "How many months went by with me manipulating you and b-berating you and treating you like you were manure?! And for wh-what?! For me to leave you out in the c-cold?!"

"But you're a changed person now, Sunny—"

"How can I pretend to be any better than I was when I let you... let you..." She fought it, whimpered, then let loose: "...become so unraveled?" She avoided his gaze momentarily, if only to wipe her cheeks dry—a futile maneuver. "I thought I was doing the r-right thing... by giving you space... j-just as I once t-told you to give Princess Twilight space." Next came a frown, this time aimed at herself. "But I was wrong. I realize that now, Flash!" She looked at him, her lips quivering. "You're my friend. I sh-should have b-been there for you all this time. Instead... I-I hung you out to dry because I was selfish and I was lazy and I h-hid behind the pretense that you were stronger than you actually were!"

"Sunset," Flash spoke gently, calmly. While Sunset was a sobbing mess, he was steady amidst the storm. "I no longer blame you for what went down between us. If nothing else, our relationship together set me down a path that I desperately needed." He braved a daring smile between them. "Now I'm all the stronger for it—"

"You call this 'strong?!'" she yelped, and just like that the tears held sway yet again. "This isn't strength! Flash, you're running away! That's what you've been doing this whole time! Running away via one extreme or another! First it was to Equestria, but now... now..." She seethed. "Do you even know where the Hell you're even going anymore?!?"

He shrugged and smiled. "I guess I'll find out—"

"Bullshit!" She leaned into him, fiery, a second sun. "Flash, this is your life we're talking about! Don't throw it away on some... pretentious gamble for a moral crusade!"

"But I'm not throwing it away."

"Yes you are!"

"I'm not—"

"Yes you are! You just don't know it yet! Please, Flash..." Sunset moved forward, both hands extended in a desperate, almost-pleading gesture. "Trust me on this. Don't do it. Don't go... blindly flailing into some crazy unknown life. Don't punish yourself. Don't punish me. Or your friends! Think about what this means for you... your life... in the long term!"

He hadn't moved a single inch. He was like a statue, in most respects.

Perhaps this was what shocked Sunset out of her resolve. She shrank away from him slightly, as if staring at a stranger.

"I had a vision today," Flash murmured, cool as fog off a glacier. "I was swimming in a tide full of drowning, blind people. The water was shallow, and any of us could have walked to shore at any time. I suddenly understood this, and I understood that I didn't understand it for so long. And when I looked around, I saw the source of my misunderstanding. It was the levees built out of excuses—by those ahead of us and ourselves included—that keep us drowning. Slowly. Over time. And just because the flood guards were designed to make the drowning seem slow and painless over a long period, it still drowned us all the same. With no reward, no benefits, no gain." He shrugged. "You see, Sunset... in more ways than one, what's right in front of us can very easily—very comfortably—becomes the 'long term' way faster than we'd like to think. I'm no longer satisfied with that. I'm prepared to walk ashore."

"Flash..." Sunset shook her head rapidly. "Flash Flash Flash..." She clenched her teeth. "Take one small step outside of your own ass for once, mkay?" Her brow furrowed. "What do you even think you're going to do? Huh? Solve all the problems in the world by being homeless? I mean... what's so damn sinful about having a support group of friends and... and-and-and... a foundation or a home to work with?! I mean—is it your folks?! Just say the word and we'll find you a better place to live!"

"Sunny—"

"There are people who are able and willing to help you with these kinds of issues, Flash!" Sunset insisted, her angry voice teetering on a sob once again. "The world isn't as horrible as you think it is! And even if it was, we can still find you a better place to start living!"

He looked her squarely in the eye. "It's not about moving to someplace better, Sunset, but doing what I can to make it better." He slowly shook his head. "Besides, I've been to a better place. And it's opened my eyes to what I can do... to what I've denied myself from doing for so long." A warm smile crossed his lips. "You should be proud, Sunset. Equestria—your Equestria—harbors faith to move mountains—"

"No..." Sunset shook her head vigorously again. "No no no will you just shut it?!?" The frown came back. "Okay, Flash! Let's say we let you have your glorious crusade! What's the outcome, huh?! The end game?!?" She pointed angrily down McCracken Trail as the last vestiges of light twinkled over the western mountaintops. "You know what happens to people who run out full-ham into the world on some extreme quest to fix things?! They disappear, Flash! They disappear and they change nothing! This whole crazy 'rotten' world?! Nothing changes with extreme stunts like that! Like this!" She slapped one hand against the other. "It. Takes. Order—Flash! Order and harmony! And friends! Everything I've ever learned—every lesson I've ever suffered through—proves this to be true! Social networks and groups are what make life flow down the proper channels! Surely somewhere in that martyr-fetish heart of yours you have the capacity to understand that!"

Flash was already nodding. "All too well. Which is why I can no longer afford to wait or pretend."

"Pretending—nngh—h-has nothing to do with it, Flash!" Sunset practically bellowed. "No single person can change the whole world!"

Flash stared back at her. "But every single person should."

Silence. Even the cicadas had retreated from the scene.

Sunset exhaled. She was past anger and hysterics at that point, and the moment had roped her back to regret. She wiped at her tears again, shaking her head into the darkening hush of the world. "I... I shudder to say it... but I wish I could just... pinpoint the moment where I went wrong with you, Flash." She sniffled, trembling under the weight of the thought. "I... I wish I could just understand what has caused your heart and mind to be... to be twisted and polluted this way... so that I can more properly help you... help you c-come back... come back to me... come back to us."

"... ... ..." Flash glanced at a shiny pendant around her neck, orange and reflective. It danced with the residual touches of the sunset. "Doesn't that thing let you read the thoughts and memories of others?"

Sunset blinked, waking out of her pitiable stupor. She looked at the pendant, then at Flash, then at the pendant once more. "Uhm... yes. As a matter of fact, it does."

"Then use it, Sunny," Flash suggested in a soft tone. "Use it on me." He held a hand over his chest. "Feel what I feel. Go through what I've gone through. Then... after that... tell me if you still think that what I'm doing is crazy or not."

She looked at him, contemplatively, for a long time. Then, chewing on her lower lip, she inched slightly forward. One hand clasped around her geode while the other hand reached for the exposed flesh of his neck.

Flash stood still. Patient. Waiting.

There was a flicker of light; the geode responded to another soul within Sunset's reached. She leaned forward... forward still...

...but she stopped before her fingers could come within a centimeter of Flash's skin.

For once, he blinked at her. Actually surprised.

Soon enough, the moment had passed. Sunset sealed it with a sigh. When she leaned back, she was frowning... not in defeat but in determination.

"No, Flash," she said. And her hands clenched by her side. "I won't. I can't."

He slowly nodded. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," she spat. "It's because I refuse to welcome whatever mentality that's strangling you inside of me. I can't allow it to persuade me." Her lips quivered, and she sobbed through the struggle it took to say: "As a friend, I owe it to us both to stand here firmly in place and tell you that what you're doing is wrong." She slowly shook her head. "And you don't have to believe me. Not now. Not ever. But the truth is this isn't going to end in any possible way that's good, Flash. Not for you... not for the world. Please... I'm begging you... come home." She pleaded. "Come home, Flash," she cried. "In all things I've done in this life—good and bad—I've yet to lose a friend. And... and I-I don't want the first one to be you."

"Will you make me come back, either way, Sunset?" Flash asked with such swiftness that it stole the breath out of her. "Will you force me to stay in one place, kicking and screaming, for as long as we'll ever know each other, spitefully and bitterly? Fully aware that I will forever be unhappy and unfulfilled in my role in this life? And the mark I have to leave upon this world?"

She blinked at him. Her lips hung open, but she had nothing to respond with.

He stepped closer to her, and this time his eyes were moist. If only slightly. "The first friend you make in this world is yourself, and I need to make sure I'm right with him. Just like you had to make sure you were right with yourself. But where it worked for you, it can't work for me. We're just different people, Sunset. I can't find who I am—and how I can help the world—in this place... in this prison." He shook his head. "Nor can I do it in the home where you're from... which is a fantasy. But out there...?" He gestured down the trail. "There's reality waiting for me. And I have to go find it. No matter how difficult it may be. I have to go help it... heal it... just like I've been. By you and by others." He finished this with a smile.

It could just as well have been a dagger. Sunset hugged herself, trembling. When she saw him make a move towards his bags, she jerked forward—if only slightly—but her hand grasped nothing but naked air. She clenched her teeth to keep them from chattering in the pallid terror of the moment.

None of which was lost to Flash. By the time he picked up his things, he moved back over towards her. His voice was a lasting warmth against the suffocating tide.

"I was born to do things. I only had to realize it. And now that I do, I know that I can't go back." He grinned, a lasting smolder, something else that was new. "And I'm starting to understand why you can't go back either, Sunset."

She looked up at him, a pillar of trembles. All that persisted now was a repeating, ardent: "Please, Flash. Please..."

"Shhhhhh..." A hand reached out between them, brushing her cheek, gathering a finger-full of tears. When there was enough to catch the last glimmering touch of the day, he held them affectionately between them, like a memento. "They're a good thing, aren't they?"

Sunset Shimmer was silent. Flash couldn't tell whether or not it was a sign of agreement, for he no longer had an anchor to stay there and listen.

Without another word, Flash Sentry departed, shuffling quietly down the lengths of McCracken Trail. Sunset Shimmer watched as he drifted further and further away, vanishing gradually amidst the shadows of mountains and forests, and when night finally fell and washed over the quiet basin with its dark grays and melancholic blues, it was almost as if he was everywhere.

Author's Note

How to Disappear Completely

Interruption

Flash exhaled through his nostrils.

"I'm not a good person, Soarin'."

"Huh?" Soarin' blinked at him.

"I've had several opportunities to be good," Flash said. "And I've failed each time."

"Nopony's perfect."

"It doesn't matter," Flash said. "I'm as rotten as people in my world get. But unlike Miss First..." He looked over. "I haven't changed for the better. And being here?" He slowly shook his head. "Being here doesn't change a damn thing."

Soarin's lips parted in confusion. After some momentary fumbling, he murmured: "Well, you're okay in my book, Brad."

"Flash Sentry."

"Huh?"

"I lied," Flash said. "My name's not Brad. It's Flash." He took a breath. "And I'm not a pony. I'm a human being who snuck into Equestria from another world without invitation."

Soarin' merely stared at him.

"Now do you think I'm good?"

Soarin' opened his muzzle to respond—

"Heads up!" Spitfire could be heard shouting. "Fleetfoot! Swifttail! Stay close to Mr. Pants and the Prince! We've got canines incoming!"

Soarin' and Flash turned about. Staring across the flat surface of High Paw, they saw burrows of dust and stone opening up from underneath. Carrying spears and battered armor, a hunched group of bipedal creatures came hobbling towards the assembled group of ponies.

Three

Thud!

Flash Sentry landed chest-first against the hilltop. His back-end tilted up, wobbled, then plopped down behind him.

Grass settled. Feathers fell. And then and only then did the sheer pain of his fall finally catch up to him.

"Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu—" The teenager gnashed his aching horse teeth while his eyes clenched shut. "Cosby kids!" he cursed.

"You're getting better, Mr. Bard!" Derpy said cheerfully from a low-hanging cloud up above. "You didn't mimic an anvil that time!" She blushed while tapping her fetlocks bashfully together. "I know a thing or two about anvils..."

"Mrmmfff..." Flash hopped up to his hooves as soon as the stinging had passed. "Again!"

"Erm... Mr. Bard?" Derpy chuckled nervously out the side of her muzzle. "Maybe you should take a breather. Count muffins hopping over the fence—"

"No. No!" Flash flapped his wings, taking off from the disturbed soil. "That was just a warm-up! I've sooooooooooooo go this!"

Two

Wham!

This time, Flash pinballed off the trunk of a tree, backflipped, then somersaulted painfully down a grass embankment. What finally stopped him was the muddy bank to a river.

Whistling, Derpy flew down until she hovered above his half-submerged figure.

"That was quite the bump!" she chirped. "You'd make Cheerilee's sister proud. Have you ever met her? She spends most her time on the top rope—"

"Mrmmmfff!" Flash Sentry raised his head, spitting adorable clumps of mud out from his adorable orange mouth. "Again!"

"Mr. Bard—"

"I almost touched the clouds that time!"

"That was a bush full of carnations. You were upside down for forty seconds."

"So?" Flash smiled in spite of a sea of bruises and dirt-splotches covering his coat. He lifted up slowly with flapping wings. "Maybe I was just showing off!"

"You'll be showing off, alright." Derpy frowned as her eyes rolled from horizon to horizon. "Inside an open casket."

"Wow, you hold pony funerals in this world? Cool!" Flash lifted higher. "Well, I'm gonna hate to miss one! Cuz I'll be too busy flying!"

"You know, if you've got someplace to be, you could hire a chariot—"

"Are you gonna teach me, Miss Hooves, or aren't you?"

Derpy sighed melodically. She brushed back her blonde threads. "Okay..." A tender smile crossed her fuzzy features. "Let's start from the top. Push away from the not-sky and aim for the big, bright, happy blue—!"

Remember

Flash Sentry took a turn through the grocery store parking lot at night.

He squinted past the glare of street lamps.

Halfway towards his exit, he saw a car.

Three people stood outside. One was angry... pacing... on the phone. Another was fussing with the engine.

Then a third... a woman...

She was waving frantically. Waving at Flash.

Flash blinked. Curious... he slowed down the car and rolled his window down...

Please

"No..." Flash said.

His eyes opened. He beheld a confused Soarin.

His voice pierced through the moment. Solid and true.

"I'm not a good person, Soarin," he said firmly. "And it's not enough." A deep breath. "None of it is. I have to... I've got to do this... please..." He grimaced. "Luna's held the fort long enough for me... but there's still something I've got to do. Something I've got to m-make right." He fought the urge to tremble but failed. "She knows it. I know it. Please... please won't you help me do this?"

Soarin stared calmly at him. "What is it that you have to do, Flash?" He slowly shook his head. "Do you even know?"

Flash sniffled. "Anything." He slowly stood back up, pushing against the lampost. "Everything." He teetered slightly, but managed to position himself upright. "Please. All of this is going to work out just right if I can just... just... bring it home. I know it. I feel it." His wings coiled tightly. "Don't rob me this opportunity, bro. I'm... I-I'm begging you."

"Flash... just..." Soarin seethed. He clenched his eyes shut as his wings flexed, unflexed, and tightened rigidly at his sides. "Dang it all to Tartarus..."

Sadly, Flash hung his head—

He felt a strong hoof grip his shoulder.

"?!?!" Flash gasped as he was hoisted up into the air.

"Friggin'... end of me... I swear..." Half-frowning, Soarin practically carried the teenager upwards in a side-hug. With strong wings, he flew the two of them towards the tower where the Midnight Oil—and Blueblood skiff—were presently moored. "...gotta have a sane... waking mind at the helm. Guess that's gonna be me."

"Hmmmmm..." Flash smiled deliriously. "Love you too."

"Oh stuff it." Soarin grumbled, covering a lot of air. "Save it for when we're on the ship."

Mementos

When Flash Sentry's shadow crossed the mare's lime-green hooves, Lyra Heartstrings looked up with what could only be described as an apologetic expression. Despite Bon Bon's reassuring pats and side-hugs, the unicorn sniffled and brushed at her wet face.

Flash blessed the fragile moment with a tranquil smile. "Don't be sad, girl." He winked. "You're my second-favorite flavor of soft drink."

Lyra paused in crying, if only to blink stupidly.

"Not your mane, of course... that's what I taste right before drinking orange juice just to punish myself," he added.

"... ... ...mrtt... mmmmfrmmm—hee-hee-hee!" Lyra snorted into helpless giggles. Her wet muzzle curved with a joyous expression that lasted the space of a candle-flicker. "Ohhhhhhhhh goddess, I'll never... ever understand half the things you say, Flash."

"That way they'll last longer in your head," Flash quipped.

"It's... it's not the head that m-matters..." Lyra sucked her breath in. "I just... you're so... mrmmfff... fetch!" With the uncurse word thusly grunted, she leapt forward and engulfed him in a tender, trembling hug.

He leaned forward, stroking her mane gently as he allowed the mare to let it out.

"...it's g-going to be so much lonelier w-with you g-gone," she whimpered.

"Fill it with mirth and music," he murmured lovingly. "And you won't notice a difference." He nuzzled the top of her head. "I'll always remember you, Lyra Heartstrings."

She merely whimpered and nodded against the nape of his neck.

Looking over her, Flash caught sight of Bon Bon.

The other mare was considerably more calm, but a fine gloss covered her eyes. "Crazy colt." A crooked smile. "You sure left your mark."

He arched an eyebrow in mid-hug. "Business is booming?"

"Thanks to you." A tear ran down Bon Bon's cheek, and she shuddered at feeling it. "So much is on the up-and-up now... thanks to you..."

He winked. "Heck of a lot better than cleaning gutters, huh?"

"Heehee... yeah..."

Flash's eyes darted towards the unicorn, then back to Bon Bon. "Take care of her, okay? And yourself as well, girl."

"You bet your flank."

Flash gave Lyra one last loving pat on the shoulder... then gently disentangled himself. He trotted away while the two mares leaned against one another, composing themselves with calm breaths as they looked on.

Flash trotted slowly, gazing aside. He passed five mares standing side-by-side... each with familiar faces and manestyles. These souls—however—were complete strangers... a shade of the awkward reality he had forced himself to accept while back home. The oddity of the moment wasn't lost to them either, and he couldn't help but notice Fluttershy and Rarity avoiding his gaze... fidgeting awkwardly. Applejack's freckles scrunched and Rainbow squinted almost threateningly.

The teenager was about to make his way to the end of the line—... when he stopped and did a double-take at a pink pink pink specimen standing with a frizzled, tangled, curly mess of a mane. He rolled his eyes, then chuckled helplessly. "Okay... it's gotta be said... you are absolutely friggin' adorable on this side of the mirror, girl."

The other four winced as if a gun had gone off. However, the Pinkie Pie in question—

"Heeheeheeeeeeeee!" She leapt forward and gave him a warm, squeezing hug. "Cheer up, emo kid!"

He smirked, backtrotting away from her bouncy figure. Then—with a solid sigh—he turned to face the two last figures.

Vinyl Scratch and Octavia faced him as well, smiling calmly.

"Mister Sentry," curtsied the latter.

"Miss Melody," bowed the teen.

"You've given us more music than we quite know what to do with, I daresay."

"You've given me more reasons to sing than I think I'll put to good use." Flash winked. "But I'll certainly try."

"You'd damned well better," Octavia said with a slicing wink. Her head turned towards Vinyl.

And so did Flash's. "Well... Miss Scratch..." A fuzzy shrug. "...I'm afraid I don't speak 'hoof,' but it was a pleasure meeting you as well."

She smiled from behind her shades. Her short tail lightly swatted Octavia from behind.

"She has something to give to you," Octavia said on cue.

"Oh? Like what?"

With a flicker of telekinesis, Vinyl Scratch floated a pair of shiny white-and-blue headphones until they levitated before the stallion.

"... ... ..." Flash looked at her, then at the headphones. His lips pursed. "Oh... I-I can't take these..."

"They either go into your hands or in the rubbish," Octavia said firmly. "Vinyl's gift. Don't be a plebeian fool, Mr. Flash."

"Heh... Christ help me." He bowed again and took the listening device in gracious fetlocks. "There's... there's no knowing how they'll handle themselves through the mirror. For all we know, they might come out the other end cat-sized."

"Then consider it a memento," Octavia said gently. "Of the ponies here in Equestria who will forever remember their fabulous friend."

"If you guys aren't the fuzziest..." Flash gently rested the headphones around his neck. He chuckled. "Heh... too bad I can't fly on the other side."

"Oh, you can make a jump alright," Octavia said. "You just won't be flying for very long." She blinked, her eyes falling to the floor. "Sorry. Poor joke. That's... what I get for opening my muzzle before thinking."

"Yeahhhhhhh..." Flash reached forward and booped her nose. "Better be careful with that." He winked.

Octavia teetered... as if her entire world was about to collapse from the mysterious gesture that had been committed between her nostrils. Vinyl looked at her with silent concern, as if her roommate might spotaneously combust.

Flash—in the meantime—pivoted away with a soft sigh. There were no more ponies left to speak to; all that was left was foreboding hallway... and a dark staircase leading somewhere unseen. Nervous, he turned and looked over his shoulder.

Soarin and Derpy stood side by side, staring at him.

Flash bit on his lip... gnawed on it... then cut off the moment with a simple nod of his head, aimed down the hallway. He shuffled forward at an icy pace. Soarin, Derpy, Twilight, and Starlight followed suit.

Silent.

Inform

He wasn't ready to leave yet. There was one last task to do, and he did so diligently. Grabbing an envelope and a few sheets of printing paper, he sat down at the dining room table and began writing a lengthy letter. He did so by hand in black ink, being careful to articulate every word before it was scribbled into being. For some reason, it felt more "from the heart" this way.

It was far from easy. Flash had to pause in the middle of writing more than a few times. On some occasions, it was to rest his hand. Mostly, however, he took a moment or two to cry. There was no shame in it anymore. He was allowed tears. He was allowed everything. The sky beyond was crystal blue and it was darkening by the minute. He proceeded with haste... a graceful haste. Within an hour and a half, he was finally done. He tucked the letter into the envelope... but he did not leave it there.

There wasn't much of anything to leave there.

Nevertheless, Flash allowed himself one brief moment to breathe the stale atmosphere of that sanctimonious sarcophagus of sighs and screams... before leaving it for good. If nothing else, it'd help him savor the purity of the air beyond.

Last

Flash Sentry had two last places left to visit.

The first was the bank... or more appropriately the ATM of the local bank.

The afternoon had grown late between the time he left school and the time he left home. The office hours had extinguished, and there was nobody in line for the drive-thru teller. So it was with liberal ease that Flash shuffled up to the ATM—bags and all—and stopped to make a withdrawal. The withdrawal. Everything he had left in checking—transferred over from savings—was converted to cold, hard cash. This he stashed in his wallet and then proceeded to stuff it deep into the largest of his backpacks.

Then with a breath—an admittedly nervous breath, albeit not for long—he turned around and marched for the heart of town.

It was the middle of the work week, and just after rush hour. This was good, because Flash was actually returning to Canterlot High School—the last place. And for the last time.

There were a few students and faculty members milling about—but nobody Flash directly recognized. Nevertheless, he held out in the shade of a few trees on the corner of the campus lawn. When the front courtyard emptied entirely, Flash held his breath and made a beeline for the base of the destroyed horse statue and the portal it housed.

He came to a stop right before it. Reaching into a pocket of one backpack, he produced the envelope...

...and laid it neatly at the bottom frame of the mirror.

Once done, Flash let loose a sigh of contentment. He gripped the shoulder-straps of the backpack in two firm hands and strolled briskly back down the sidewalk.

It would lead him—as he well knew—to west end of town, where the sunset was at its rosiest.

Behind him, the lid of the envelope hung open... loose... dancing slightly in the breeze, teasing the world with hints of the solid black words scribbled upon the papers tucked neatly within: