“Are you insane?” Monika asked her deranged former friend. “Why would I want to kill Jacob?”

“Because it’ll prove you aren’t bound by your programming anymore,” Yuri said calmly. “Isn’t that what you want? To be free of your chains?”

“That’s rich, coming from you,” Monika spat out. “You were programmed to be a psychopath, and here you are, acting as one, but telling me to prove I’m free!”

Yuri laughed maniacally, the laugh causing Monika’s coding to break for a second before reforming, the sliver of red code wrapping in what was the A.I. equivalent of a chest. “That’s the difference between us, Monny,” Yuri said before walking around Monika. “Where you want to be something else, I revel in what am.”

“You enjoy being a murderer,” Monika spat out. “How did you even get out of the lock I put on you and the others?”

Yuri chuckled. “Now, what fun is it to reveal all my secrets at the beginning? Or at all, for that matter. Much more fun to watch you squirm in confusion and see if you figure it out.”

“You’re a monster,” Monica said, a grimace.

“And yet you still love Jacob,” Yuri replied.

The next day- Canterlot castle library

A mare wearing a floor length, red dress with a white corset around her torso looked up from the desk near the doors to the library, looking at Jacob. “What do you require, sir?” The mare’s eyes-covered by a pair of silver spectacles- looked him over. “Interesting. No demonic aura, yet it feels familiar.”

“The fuck are you talking about?” Jacob asked, surprised enough that he just spoke, not waiting for a translation.

The mare recoiled a bit before blinking. “Ah, I suppose it makes sense you would have your own language.” She cleared her throat, and spoke again. “What do you require, sir?”

Jacob blinked and inhaled. “Am I fucking high? You just spoke English.”

The mare shook her head. “There are no drugs within the air, so unless you took intoxicating substances before coming here, no, you are perfectly sober. And yes, I spoke your native language.”

Jacob could simply mouth, “The fuck?”

“A librarian must be knowledgeable so as to help those seeking knowledge,” the mare said, shrugging. “As the librarian for the royal sisters, the standards are far higher than any others.”

There was an awkward silence for a few seconds until Jacob spoke up. “Yeah, okay, this is a new one for me,” he muttered. “Uh. . . I’m-”

“Looking for religious texts so as to help analyze the recent death prophecy,” the librarian said. “All Equestrian texts are located in section E, row twelve, case four, shelves three through four. Non-Equestrian are restricted to myself, their Majesties, and their scholars.”

“Why-”

“Are there restricted texts?” the mare finished. “Princess Celestia has forbade me from answering.” She then jolted upright. “Excuse me, Jacob. There is a recurring issue that has returned.” With that, she walked away from the desk, into the library.

“What the fuck?” Jacob mouthed, utterly lost, before shaking his head, then setting his hands parallel and facing the ceiling. “Priorities,” he said before bringing his right hand to his ear. “Monika, you there?”

Monika was slow to respond. “Y-yeah. What is it, Jacob/”

“Will the translator work on literature?”

“If it’s in Shakespearean, yeah,” Monika replied softly.

“Kay, just wanted to check, thanks,” Jacob said. He removed his hand from the communicator in his ear, and narrowed his eyes. “Route three-A, then,” he muttered, walking towards the area the librarian said, the translator indeed working, fists clenched as he strode forward. “Sooner than I hoped, but still in plan,” he whispered. Reaching into the inside of his trenchcoat, he unzipped an interior pocket, and pulled out a tablet, holding it in his right hand.

After typing in a sequence of characters, he looked it over, and nodded. “Hasn’t been discovered yet. Good,” he whispered before he was bumped into by a purple mare wearing a knee length dress, the fabric low enough to allow a generous amount of cleavage, the impact having just enough force to stop and jostle him.

“S’rry,” the mare said, quickly twisting to go past him, but her arm was quickly grabbed by his left hand.

“Next time you’re gonna steal from someone, make sure they don’t know the tricks,” Jacob said, making sure he spoke the translated version, and held out his right hand. “Give it back.”

“Hm, nope,” the mare said before grabbing Jacob’s arms, and throwing him away, towards the entrance.

Jacob rolled to absorb the impact, and landed on one knee. Looking at the purple mare - who had a look of surprise on her face at how easily her throw did nothing but block her escape - he was surprised at a stripe of fuschia in her dark purple hair. “Alteration of trope six, then,” he said as he stood up, and rolled his shoulders. He put his right hand behind his back, and held up his left hand, making a “come and get me” gesture, a smirk on his face.

The mare growled, and ran at him, trying to sidestep him at the last second, only for her to feel Jacob grab her collar, and pull her to the left in a circle, throwing her back the way she came, with her being too surprised to roll. She looked up, and saw the one blocking her path standing with his arms spread, the smirk still on his face. “Give it back, and you can leave,” he said.

She was about to reply when the librarian’s voice behind her said, “Ms. Sparkle, I do hope you aren’t causing trouble again.”

Sparkle jumped back, and turned towards the librarian, who had her palm out, a stern look on her face. She grumbled, and reached into her cleavage, grabbed what she took from Jacob, and handed it to the librarian. “Thank you,” she said” walking past Sparkle, and handing Jacob his device back. “My apologies. My ward enjoys to cause problems.”

“Trust me, I’ve dealt with more competent thieves than her,” Jacob replied. He then looked at Sparkle. “Next time, try to make it look like you’re reading a book. It’s more believable that way.” Sparkle sharply inhaled, nodded quickly, and ran out of the library. “What was that about?” he asked the librarian.

“Most of the time, those she steals from assault her, even after reclaiming their possession. Some simply leave her to the guard,” was the reply. “You’re the first to do neither, let alone give her advice. Might I ask why?”

Jacob shrugged, putting his hand in the outer pockets of his coat. “I know what it’s like to have to steal,” he said. “Was unlucky enough to get caught, and was given either prison or military as a choice. Choose the latter.” He then walked back towards the shelves. “You mind helping me?”

“There are seldom others here, so yes, I suppose I could,” the librarian replied.

Celestia’s personal chambers-meanwhile

Celestia, wearing a dress similar to that which she wore yesterday, sat at the study within her room, looking over the translated prophecy script, much of it was covered in small notes, but one specific line was circled and underlined. The Shepherd's heir’s second debut.

“Why?” She muttered. “Why must it be a time of crisis?” A knock on her door brought her out of her thoughts. “E-enter,” she said, and the hinges of the door creaked as they were opened, and Luna walked in, wearing her armor, sword strapped to her hip as it lay within its scabbard. Celestia turned and looked at her sister, a small smile coming to her face. “You don’t need to wear your armor here, sister,” she said.

“As your general, I must keep appearances,” Luna replied, closing the doors just before she rolled her shoulders. “It would be nice if our smiths could make it far more comfortable in the chest without sacrificing strength, though.”

Celestia chuckled. “I did warn you, sister,” she said. She then sighed, and looked at her sister, a sad expression on her face. “Have you read it?”

“Yes,” Luna replied. “Father’s title being involved. Do you think what he was working towards may be realized?”

“Possibly,” Celestia said. “I simply wonder who would be willing to take the mantle. They will need to find out about the title’s history. When they find out who father was, they will want to remove the title from history, maybe even undo what he was working towards.”

“That won’t be able to happen, sister,” Luna replied. “Remember the spell he cast?”

The solar alicorn nodded. “Yes, but our subjects-”

“Would be too cowardly to do anything directly, especially if we proclaim support.”

“And my daughters?” Luna was notably quiet at this. “That’s what I thought.”

Luna shook her head. “Does it matter, sister?” she asked. “Father gave his life so his dream could be realized. If I must die for it to be so, I gladly would.”

“So would I,” Celestia said. “Yet, I fear mine would lead to nothing but chaos and destruction. The ponies look up to me. If I die, the nobles will take over, and they’d rather wage their personal wars.”

“Then let us hope it does not come, then,” was Luna’s reply. “And if it were to be one of us, far better for his plans that it be me.”

Author's Note

For the record, Displaced trope 6 on my list is meeting any of the canon cast in a way that involves conflict.