Pony Genius: Twilight Sparkle and the Intertwined Gate

by Kotatsu Neko

Rating: teen
Tags: Trixie, Comedy, Starlight Glimmer, Adventure, Violence, Crossover, Sunset Shimmer, Main 6, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Alternate Universe, Human
Length: 13884

In a world where mad scientists - or, more politely, 'Sparks' - rule the land, one young woman will be drawn into a decades-old battle between the forces of evil and five surprising new allies. She must embrace her destiny... for SCIENCE!

I'm sorry, friendship is what now? How... quaint. Well, we don't believe in magic here. We believe in science. Delicious, magical science!

Twilight Sparkle is (by sheer coincidence to her name) a Spark: someone who is able to use questionable science to create miraculous devices that defy the laws of reality. She's still learning, though, and can't quite get out of a slump that endangers her career. Soon, however, a quintet of mysterious beings will cross her path, throwing her into a battle against an otherworldly foe. Her only hope is to push her talents to their limits, discover what lies beyond the enigmatic Intertwined Gate, and show them... show them ALL!

(This fic is based on the excellent webcomic Girl Genius, taking place several decades after the current time of the story.)

Published 2018-01-30 15:50:12 UTC
Last updated 2019-02-10 16:19:30 UTC

Prologue - The Last Resort

When touring the Europan countryside, one would scarce be amiss in paying a visit to the thriving city of Pferdenburg, capital of the Barony of the same name. Once the holding of a minor and despotic noble, Pferdenburg has long since broken free from ignominy and has joined enlightened society with what is almost certainly not a literal vengeance. It can be found a half-day's travel north of Beetleburg (coach travel is recommended, as events of an uncertain but dangerous nature have been known to happen to air vessels), which places it within Wulfenbach lands yet just within reach of the Lady Heterodyne's influence.

Though it boasts many splendors of antiquity, Pferdenburg's most significant edifice is perhaps - and the title is precise, so pay attention - the 'Her Lady of Ephemeral Grace Grand Baroness Suzy-Mae's Academy for Scientifically Gifted and Spirited Young Ladies who Nevertheless Know Their Place'. (Residents will call it the Academy, but they will expect visitors to at least attempt to speak the whole name before giving directions.) There, a new generation of Sparks are even now advancing their skills in all the mad sciences, without having to worry about the unfortunate predations of the world that once plagued female students of the Craft. At least, no more than one would expect from a university town with approximately 57 pubs and watering holes per square kilometer.

A small note, however: until they become more familiar with how the social structure works, it behooves visitors to keep an eye on the streetlights and move to safety if they change abruptly. One does not want to be out in the open when the Cityscape comes into conflict with itself.

- from Lady Von Fekenhaur’s ‘A Charming Guide to Europa’s Cities’

With a grunt, Sturk heaved the load he was carrying onto a workbench, causing a clattering that all but shook the walls around him. He surveyed the assorted parts with a critical eye, eventually making a dissatisfied tch noise. Some he could salvage, but many of them – far too many – would have to be melted down and reforged.

He need to have a talk with them again, he really did. He told them; he told them, didn’t he? How often had he told them? He was a mechanic, not a Spark. He could patch things up, but the best he was able to manage on this ship was only ever going to be ‘good enough, for now’, and 'for now' had been a very long time at this point. That was the problem with repairing a vessel designed by Sparks, people who specialize in making the rules of physics bend to their whims. He didn’t know what they could see when they went into the Madness Place, and quite frankly he didn’t want to know. But it meant his ability to repair or replace damaged parts was always going to be sharply limited; it took a Spark to make a triangular rod with more than 180 degrees to its vertices.

Really, it was a testament to his skills that this place hadn’t fallen apart completely by now. And that was just the airship. When it came to anything more complicated…

As if on cue, the room shuddered with the familiar sound and feel of the main hatch cycling open. The bridge of the ship was just above Sturk’s workshop, and his ceiling rang with a crescendo of little footsteps.

Oh, good. They were back. With the foresight that came from repetition, he kicked an empty wheeled bin, which rolled across the room until it came to reset beneath the ladder leading upwards. Then, pausing only to adjust his mechanic’s cap, he turned his attention to the parts, sorting them into ‘scrap’ and ‘not-scrap’ piles.

Soon, feminine voices could be heard floating down the maintenance shaft. “Wow, that was fun!” one said, following it with a peal of laughter.

“Heck yeah, it was fun!” another agreed. “Didja see the part where I ripped that big one’s arm off and hit him with it?”

“Well, he did have five others, darling,” noted a third.

“Ehn. It was still funny.”

The third voice tittered. “It rather was, wasn’t it?”

“Um.” A fourth, hesitant voice managed to speak up. “M-maybe we shouldn’t have gone so overboard? The battleforms look pretty… banged up.”

“Aw, c’mon,” the first voice said. “They’re fine, they’re fine! See?” There was a clatter, and a brief pause. “...okay, this one’s head just fell off, but that’s no big deal, right? HEY MISTER STUUUUUUURK!” A badly mangled collection of scorched steel and shattered bronze fell through the hatch and into the waiting bin; two more soon followed, and if they were less damaged than the first it was impossible to tell. “FIX THESE, PLEASE AND THANK YOOOOUUU!”

Sturk looked over at the bin with a scowl and a tch.

“Naw, she’s got a point, y’all,” the fifth and final voice decided; as she spoke, Sturk heard the sound of metal sliding along grooves as she opened her reintegration chamber door. “I kinda remember him sayin’ somethin’ about startin’ ta run low on ‘em.” Sturk glared upward for a moment, then muttered in annoyance and chucked a broken flywheel into the scrap pile.

The second voice said, “Aw, it’s fine. We’ve got dozens left. Besides, what choice do we have?” More doors opened, which was unusual; it must have been a difficult fight, Sturk thought, if they all needed reintegration. “We can’t just let those jerks run around loose. They pop their heads up, we have to pound ‘em back down!”

“Quite so. We have a duty, after all.” One by one the doors slid shut, though this did not mute the voices coming from within.

“And that’s all well and good, sugarcube, but what happens if we run outta forms?”

The third voice let out what could only be called a dismissive sputter. “Oh, surely that won’t happen for ages! I have the greatest respect for Mister Sturk, but he is something of a fussbudget.”

...oh, that did it. That just did it! Sturk stood up and, with one hand, slid the overfull bin away from the ladder. “Ho,” he growled as he climbed, his rough voice carrying upwards, “a fossbodjit, em Hy?” He stepped onto the bridge and glowered at the large bronze cylinder marked with three diamond-shaped gems. “Iz dot vhat hyu really tink?” Well over two meters tall and hugely muscled, with gray-green skin, the Jägermonster could look intimidating without even trying.

The entity in the cylinder hesitated awkwardly. Even through a thick layer of solid metal, her guilt and embarrassment were almost palpable. “Oh! Um. I, I didn’t mean that in an insulting way at all, darling. It’s just that… well, I have the utmost faith in your ability to keep everything running!”

Sturk sighed, running a hand over his befanged face. “Sixty Gottdem years… all dis time, hyu never leesened to a seengle vord Hy’ve said, haf hyu?”

“We know, we know,” came the voice in the rainbow-marked cylinder. “You’re a mechanic, not a Spark. We get it! But come on, how hard can it be to fix the battleforms?”

His response was a long and colorful oath in purest Jägerspeak, though slightly muffled because Sturk had started chewing on his cap in frustration.

“What did I say?”

“How?! How ken hyu be so schtoopid?!” He gestured wildly toward the cylinders. “Vit vhat hyu all are, vy donchu know anytink about-”

An alarm suddenly blared, and red lights flashed across the bridge. Groans came from the cylinders. “Aw, c’mon! Really?! Already?”

"Oh, dear. Do you think we missed one?"

"No way! This has to be a new batch!"

“But we just started reintegration! This is most uncalled for!”

“C’mon, y’all. No use gripin’ about it. Mister Sturk, coudja bring up a fresh set of forms while we get ready?” The cylinder doors were already beginning to open.

The Jägermonster narrowed his eyes. “Ho. Hyu need to get ready? Hy gets hyu goot und ready.” With that, he took two steps and pulled down a large lever painted with yellow and black stripes. Immediately, the alarm cut off, the main hatch was bolted shut, and restraints rose to wrap around the cylinders, sealing them closed.

Shouts of surprise and outrage came from the cylinders. “What in tarnation do ya think yer doin’?!”

“This isn’t funny!”

“Release us at once, do you hear?! We have a duty!”

Sturk crossed his arms. “Ya, vell, Hy haf a duty too, leetel horse pipple. Und right now eet tells me to not let hyu keel hyuselves, hey? My Lady vould be cross vit me if dot heppened.”

The rainbow cylinder's occupant groaned in exasperation. “Fine! We’ll finish reintegration, but then we have to go!”

“Und Hy’m telling hyu dot hyu ain’t goin’ anyvere-”

“We most certainly are-”

“Becoz,” he continued, “hyu ain’t got no battleforms left!”

Silence reigned.

“That’s… that’s preposterous,” the diamond cylinder managed. “We can’t have gone through them all.”

“Hy’m tellink hyu, dere ain’t any left.” He pointed at two tall mechanical forms propped up near the main hatch. One of them was still smoldering gently. “Dose two are de last ov dem, und Hy ken tell from here dey ain’t combat-ready.”

“Wha...” The cylinder marked with apples stammered for a moment. “Why in Sweet Apple Acres didn’t ya tell us?!”

“HY HAF!” he bellowed, his expression one of maddened frustration. “Dis iz de seventh time ve haf had dis conversation! Effry single time hyu went out, Hy told hyu how many forms vere left! Und effry single time hyu came bek, eet’s all ‘feex de battleforms, Meester Sturk! Fife more, pleez!’ Hyu know Hy ken’t feex dem proper! Hy know hyu know dat! Bot hyu hear dat dem alarm und hyu chost... forget!”

Another silence, then: “That… that just plain can’t be true. How could we all forget?”

“Um...” The butterfly cylinder spoke up. “I think he’s right. Remember last month when I stayed behind because of that cute bunny we found?”

Rainbow cylinder groaned. “That thing. Don’t remind me.”

“W-well, I remember him telling you all we were running low, and you said you’d be careful… but when you got back, the battleforms were all broken and nobody seemed to care. I, I didn’t want to make a scene or anything, and then the next time I went out I sort of… forgot.”

“Aw, succotash!” the apple cylinder said in sudden realization. “It’s because of the override code, ain’t it? Probably just erased any memories that got in the way of respondin' to the alerts!”

“And we’ve been having to go out so often lately,” the balloon cylinder added, “we’ve been burning through the forms faster than ever! And we never even realized it!”

“This is terrible! A complete disaster!” Diamond would clearly have thrown herself on a suitably dramatic couch if she could.

“Is there really no way to get any more forms working?” Rainbow asked.

Sturk shook his head. “Dese two, hy ken patch op de frames, but dot’s about eet. Hy don’t like de look ov de smokink von, either. For de rest… only hef ov dem haf intact cores anymore, und hef ov dem got dere frames destroyed. Dot’s steel a lot vhat don’t need too moch feexing, bot eet’s steel more dan Hy ken do.” He shook his head again. “Hyu need a Spark. Hyu needed a Spark years ago.”

A third silence descended, much longer than the last two.

“So… that’s it, then,” Apple declared. “We’re goin’ to Pferdenburg.”

Another sputter from Diamond. “Are you quite mad, darling?! We aren’t allowed back in Pferdenburg!”

“And we’ve got that aleeeeert,” Balloon whined. “It itches!”

Apple's voice was stern. “Ain’t got no choice. This has gotta be our top priority now, and you know we can’t just pick up some hayseed with a death ray. We need someone who’s got a foundation of knowledge, but who’s still learnin’. That means a student, and Pferdenburg’s got scores of ‘em. Where else are we gonna find the right Spark?”

“Well, we… we could go to… Mechanicsburg?” Diamond suggested.

“Dot’s not heppenink,” Sturk said firmly. “My Lady doesn’t appreciate poachink.”

“All right, then… there's Transylvania Polygnostic, in Beetleburg. That's quite the renowned university."

“Yeah, but...” Rainbow interjected. “...remember the whole thing with the giant hairdryer? And all those monkeys? And the moat?”

“THAT WAS MY BEST. PLAN. EVERRRR!”

“...oh. Yes. They definitely would not want us hanging around again.” Diamond suddenly gasped. “Or Paris! Oh, that’s a simply marvelous idea! A bustling town with millions of people, the greatest university in all of Europa...”

“And the Master of Paris gettin' in our business from sun up to sundown and back ta sun up again,” Apple countered. “Besides, it’s too far away. We gotta keep the alerts on lockdown until we get some forms back online, or we'll just forget again. That's gonna make it tough enough as it is; addin' extra travel time would be even worse. No, Pferdenburg's right close, so that’s where we’re goin’."

There was still an air of reluctance on the bridge, and Apple sighed. "I know what y'all're thinkin', and yer right. But she's gone now, and it's been sixty years besides. This is our best chance of findin' the Spark we need, and if it brings up bad memories in the process... well, that's just somethin' we're gonna hafta deal with. We've still got each other, and we're stronger now than we were. We can make it through this.”

For several long seconds there was no response, then: "Yes, of course you're right, darling. We can do this!"

"Yeah!" said Rainbow. "I wanna see what they've done with the place since we left, too! This is gonna be awesome!"

Apple gave a soft sigh of relief. "All right, then. Mister Sturk, if you would, please?"

Sturk nodded. “Hokay, Hy tek care ov eet." He hesitated and looked away, embarrassed. "Und Hy'm... ah... zorry for vhat Hy said bek dere. Hy didn't realize-”

"Oh, think nothing of it," Butterfly assured him. "We know you're always looking out for us." The other cylinders voiced their agreement.

He gave an extremely toothy grin. "Of corz! Dot iz my duty, after all." He clambered up to the navigation console and gripped the controls. “Should be fife hours to Pferdenburg. Hyu girls chost relax und get better, hey?”

“Much obliged, darling,” Diamond said, though her voice was tinged with worry.

"Somethin' wrong, sugarcube?" Apple asked.

“Well, no, but… I mean, I'm with you all one hundred percent, I assure you! I just... hope we don’t regret this. That was an awfully large armada chasing us when we left.”

"W-with really big guns," Butterfly added.

“Don’t worry,” Balloon said reassuringly. “I’m sure they’ve forgotten allllll about it. It wasn’t even that big of a crater!”

The Great Pferdenburg Crater is another impressive feature of the city. Nearly half a kilometer across, it is a perfectly smooth bowl cut into the land east of the city, slicing through buildings and part of a large hummock that used to be the site of the famous and lamented Pferdenburg National Cheese Museum. It was created approximately sixty years ago (the crater, not the museum), and its cause is something of a mystery, as the populace have a tendency to redirect such inquiries with offers to sell "Everything's Greater at the Crater" merchandise. Much of the crater and the damage it caused remains preserved, by Baronial decree, and a waist-high wall was built around its circumference to prevent injury to tourists and careless pedestrians. Bits of the crater still glow quite attractively at night, but the most impressive part is the huge sign that arches overhead. Little expense was spared in its creation; it is finely engraved and gold plated, and among the pictorial record of the Barony one can read the sign’s message in seventeen different languages: ‘WE WILL NOT FORGET.’

What, in fact, they will not forget is something the townsfolk are strangely reluctant to disclose, but I have been assured that suggesting that they forgot what they would not forget is a good way to receive a traditional Pferdenburg thrashing.

- from Lady Von Fekenhaur’s ‘A Charming Guide to Europa’s Cities’

Author's Note

GLOSSARY:

(Warning: spoilers for Girl Genius)

Europa - The Steampunk-age area of Europe, mostly. Much of it is under the control of Baron Wulfenbach, who enforces the Pax Transylvania, aka The Baron's Peace (the primary tenet of which is, broadly, 'Don't Make Me Come Over There'); Europa is filled with minor nobles with tendencies toward megalomania, and the Baron makes sure that any of those who step over the line don't get a second chance. Benevolent, but not very merciful.

Spark - Your basic mad scientist type. By entering a sort of fugue state, a Spark can create all manners of scientific wonders, from ray guns to giant robots to the classic monstrosity made out of stitched-up body parts. Despite occasionally going insane, most Sparks are quite reasonable, but it is never a good idea to fully let your guard down around them. The gift of the Spark is quite often hereditary, and the families with a strong gift tend to rise to power. Speaking of which...

Lady Heterodyne - The Heterodyne family is the strongest, most famous (or infamous) Spark family in the world. A succession of Heterodyne warlords ruled over much of Europa for centuries until Bill and Barry, the Heterodyne Boys, rejected their family's history and turned their skills to good. At the height of their success, however, they vanished, then several years later one Agatha Heterodyne, daughter of Bill, claimed her birthright and took control of Castle Heterodyne and the surrounding city of Mechanicsburg. Girl Genius is her story.

Jägermonster - The Heterodynes' footsoldiers. They were once normal humans until they drank the powerful - and often deadly - Jägerdraught. Those that survived gained increased strength, durability and sense acuity, as well as fangs and off-color skin for good measure. Jägers can live for centuries, and their ferocity is only matched by their unwavering loyalty to the Heterodyne family. They also have an inexplicable fondness for hats.

Chapter 1 - Twilight Sparkle Gets a Visit

Five colored lights fell from the sky, arcing downward to land on a hill overlooking Pferdenburg. Five figures stood on the hill, one stretching expansively. “Man, it’s been a while since we used the infiltration forms. Feels kinda weird.”

[[Remember,]] Sturk said, his voice coming from a transmitter held by each of the figures, [[dose ain’t designed for combat. Von bad heet, und hyu ees kaput. So no fonny schtoff.]]

“Yeah, yeah.” Rainbow examined her hands critically. “Too pink. You sure I can’t switch to blue?”

[[Ho, yas, chost valk eento town all blue und pretty! Dot sounds like de perfect vay to avoid attention.]]

“Hey, you don’t get to make fun of me on that! You’re green!”

[[Hy em supposed to be green, Miss Shmotty Pony, und Hy’m not de von eenfeeltratink!]]

Rainbow sighed. “Fiiiiiine. I’m keeping the hair, though.”

“Coloring one’s hair is quite the done thing this season,” Diamond said, already peering into a hand mirror and adjusting her own tresses. “’Skifander style,’ it’s called. Good thing, too. Last season featured ‘big hair’ - really big hair - and I simply do not have the resources on hand to make wigs for everyone or any wheelbarrows to carry them in.”

Apple paused in examining her current form, making sure it hadn’t been damaged in the flight down. “Wait just a minute. We’ve been doin’ nothin’ but handlin’ alerts for months. How the heck do you know about-“ She stopped. “That’s why you went missing during that fight in Prague, ain’t it?”

“Oh, darling, you all had the situation handled! And one does have to keep up with the trends. So I picked up a few periodicals; what’s wrong with that?”

“Of all the-“

“Girls, girls!” Butterfly said, quickly stepping between them. “We have other things to worry about right now, remember?”

Apple glowered at Diamond, but nodded. “Yer right.” She turned toward the city in the distance; the other four took position behind her. “Okay, ladies. Somewhere down there is the Spark we need. All we gotta do is find them.”

Footsteps racing down a hallway, bare skin on old hardwood. A girl, jet-black hair and wearing nightclothes, panting from exertion, unused to so much activity.

A door…

She threw it open, ducked inside, then slammed it shut, trying to hold it closed with her shoulderblades. “Spike!” she yelled in a panic. “They found me!”

The door had opened into one of the building’s many small towers, and like every other room in the building its walls were lined with bookshelves. This room was two-tiered, with a small curved staircase leading up from the entryway to a larger study above. It showed definite signs of being lived in, with discarded clothes, empty takeout containers, and dirty dishes on most surfaces not occupied by books.

A voice drifted down from upstairs. “Did they look in the main library?”

“Yes!”

“Then that’s how they found you.”

“Spiiiiike!” she wailed. “This is serious!”

“It really isn’t.”

A noise from the hallway made her press her ear against the door, listening intently. “You know,” Spike called, “if you’re that worried you could-“

The girl – well, young woman, really, just out of her teens – recoiled from the door, her pale skin growing even paler. “They’re coming!” she whispered.

“Then you should probably lock the-“

“I need to barricade the door!” She ran to a nearby bookcase and pushed her shoulder against it, heaving with all her might.

“…okay, but first you should-“

It turned out ‘all her might’ was not enough for her twiggy, pajama-clad limbs to move the bookcase. She stepped back, panting. “I… need to…” She considered, then brightened. “…build a furniture-moving clank!”

“What?”

She scrambled upstairs and started searching through the shelves. “I need to research the proper leverage ratio!”

“You don’t have time for-“

“Aha!” Seizing an old leather-bound tome, she hurried over to a small workbench against one wall. “I need to improve on Gussingham’s Impeccable Rearrangotron!” Her voice had taken on the wild and uneven harmonics of a Spark in mid-invention fugue.

As she began to bolt and weld spare parts together, the weary voice of Spike came from the top of a bookcase near the window. “The key is right there…”

“I need six meters of copper wiring, three dozen heavyweight springs, twenty kilograms of armor plating, AND A KAZOO!” she declared loudly, her eyes ablaze with inspiration. “SPIKE! GO DOWN TO THE REPOSITORY AND-“

“Twilight!”

She blinked, and then the sound of conversation just beyond the door cut through her mania. Twilight hurried over to the banister that overlooked the entryway, realization finally dawning. “But… first…” she said quietly, “…I need to lock the door.”

Spike sighed. “Thank you.”

And then the madness came back. “SPIKE, GET ME A BOOK ON LOCKSMITHING!”

There was a sudden, high-pitched hum, then the tower door was blasted open in a blaze of yellow and green energy. In fact, ‘blasted open’ wasn’t strictly accurate; there was no concussive force, but instead the energy spray converted the solid oak door into a cloud of floating particles. The doorknob fell noiselessly into a pile of sawdust.

Three jumpsuit-clad figures entered, stepping over the dustpile. The one in the lead holstered the smoldering pistol she carried, then looked around, smiling wickedly as she saw Twilight. “There you are, Princess. Time’s up.” She reached behind her back and brought out a long, wide rifle festooned with pipes and valves, which she hefted with surprising ease. A segmented tube ran from the butt of the rifle to a large and complicated device on the young woman’s back, partially hidden by a cascade of red and gold hair. “You’re coming with us.”

“…it wasn’t even locked…” Spike muttered. “What is wrong with you people?”

Twilight backed away from the banister in a panic. “No, no, no!” She dove toward a stack of books on a nearby table. “I Just need a little more time, Sunset! Just… a little…” She started opening the books one by one, leafed through them desperately, then tossed them aside when they proved unsatisfactory.

“We’ve given you a whole week, Twi. This is for your own good. Starlight? Trixie?” The other two young women – one pale with purple and green hair, the other well-tanned with white hair tinged blue - stepped forward, and Sunset flicked a switch on her rifle; the device on her back began to hiss and roar. “Get her.”

With a shared smirk, they stalked up the stairs and advanced slowly toward Twilight, who moved to keep the table between herself and them. Starlight glanced around at the clothes and dishes scattered about. “My, my. Quite the mess you’ve made here, Miss Sparkle.”

“I’ll say,” said Trixie. “Most unbecoming of a Princess.”

Twilight abandoned her search of the books and backed away. “C-can’t we talk about this?”

“No way,” Starlight said. “We’ve been waiting for this all week.”

“And we’ve got big plans for you, Princess,” Trixie added, putting a bit of a sneer into the last word. “But first... let’s get you out of those dirty pajamas.”

Twilight stared at her in confusion… then her eyes went wide. “Oh no you don’t! SPIKE! DEFENSE MODE!”

There was a pause, then: “...really?”

”NOW!”

He sighed. “As you command, my Mistress.” A pair of metal claws gripped the top of the bookcase, and Spike heaved himself over the edge.

What landed heavily on the table was a thing that was clearly made of metal, yet moved like a living creature. A bit over a meter tall and half as wide, the original intent had been ‘chubby, cute and cuddly’, or at least as cuddly as a brass-plated lizard could be. Since then, the clank had been repeatedly modified and adjusted to the point where it was impossible to tell where the base model stopped and the changes began. The general impression it gave now was stocky rather than chubby, rakish rather than cute, and decidedly… well, spiky rather than cuddly.

Spike the Clockwork Dragon straightened up and crossed his arms, looking between the two young women before him with an expression of bored confidence. This would have been impressive to anyone not familiar with him; most clanks were not designed for much emotional expression, if only because they didn’t have many emotions to express. “Sorry, ladies, but orders are orders. Let’s not make this messy, okay?”

Starlight backed up a step. “C-Come on, Spike. You wouldn’t go all aggressive on us, would you?”

Spike raised a bronze eyebrow, and with a collection of ratcheting noises panels began to open along Spike’s body. A score of miniaturized weapons unfolded from the panels and quickly oriented themselves, aiming at Starlight. On his shoulders, two larger gun barrels started to glow with an internal flickering light. “Yeah,” he decided, “I kinda think I would.”

Starlight backed up another step. “Nice… flamethrowers.”

He beamed. “Thanks! Those were my idea.”

“Hah!” Trixie said, moving Starlight out of the way. “I was expecting this, Princess.” She drew a metal device from her belt and raised it high. “No mere clank can thwart the Great and Powerful Trixie!”

Spike’s weapons tracked onto Trixie and he tensed in anticipation…

And then she held the device out to him. “Here you go, Spike. It’s that seven-fifths Peppermill axle you wanted.”

His eyes lit up, and not figuratively; they shone a pleasant green. “With the chromed struts?”

“With the chromed struts,” Trixie confirmed.

“Sweet!” The various weapons retracted and the panels closed. “She’s all yours.”

“BETRAYAL!” Twilight snarled in her Spark voice.

“Sorry, Twilight,” he said. “A clank’s got needs.” He sat down and opened a hatch on his right hip, reached in, and pulled a similar (but not quite as shiny) part from his inner workings. The new part swiftly took its place, and he closed the hatch; a moment later, a look of contentment crossed his face. “Aw, yeah. That’s the stuff.”

“Nice job,” Starlight said to Trixie, who just winked. The two stepped forward, each walking around the table on opposite sides to close off any avenue of escape, until they stood over their prey. “Now then, Twilight. Any last words before we move on to...” She paused dramatically. “...the main event?”

“I don’t have time for all this,” Twilight moaned. “I only have three more days-”

“It’s Friday.”

Panic danced in Twilight’s eyes. “Two more days to-”

“And the library’s closed on Sunday.”

The panic was doing a rather risque tango with desperation now. “Which is why I can’t let you interrupt me!”

“Too bad!” Starlight posed theatrically. “You belong to us now! We’re gonna dress you up..”

“No!”

“...take you out for a night on the town...”

“No!”

“And we’re all gonna get stupidly drunk!”

”YOU FIENDS!”

On the table, Spike briefly inspected the part he’d removed, then ate it. “Y’know,” he said with his mouth full, “if you’re losing days, they’ve probably got a point.”

She glowered at him… then sighed. “Okay… you’re right.” She stood up and dusted herself off. “Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to take a break.”

The two young women glanced at each other. “Sure,” Trixie said in a cautious tone of voice, watching Twilight closely.

“I mean, staying cooped up in here won’t get me past that wall, will it? And a night out sounds like a lot of fun!”

“Uh-huh.”

“Soooo… why don’t you just let me get dressed – on my own, thank you – and I’ll meet you outside?” And she smiled, just the tiniest bit wider than she should have.

Starlight’s expression softened, and she stepped forward to put a hand on Twilight’s cheek. “Oh, Twilight. I’m so very proud of you.”

“Thanks, Sta-” She stopped. “Wait. Proud?”

“Uh-huh. I mean, that lie was almost believable! You used to be so terrible at deception. You’ve come so far!” She wiped away an imaginary tear, then glanced to her side. “Trixie?”

“You get the top, I’ll get the bottom.”

“As always.”

Down in the entryway, Sunset carefully adjusted various knobs and levers on her weapon, watching a series of lights carefully. The abrupt sounds of struggle upstairs failed to distract her. “Come on… come… onnnnn…” Finally, the lights turned on with a solid, unwavering green light. “Yes!” She looked up. “I’m all ready down here! Send her over!”

Her response came as a peal of laughter. “S-stop it! That tickles!”

“Working on it!” Starlight shouted. “She’s wriggly!”

There was a thump, followed by what sounded like a clatter of falling cardboard containers. “Ew. You’d better up the power, Sunset,” Trixie called. “She’s been ordering the Van Helsing Special from Callobene’s Takeaway.”

“Roger, calibrating for extra garlic!” Sunset made a few more adjustments.

There was a shriek of outrage. “Got the bottom!” Trixie announced triumphantly. “Her complete lack of hips spelled her doom!”

“I DO SO HAVE- eek!”

The pajama top came floating over the banister and down to the floor. “Okay, grab her legs! And lift! One… two… THREE!” Twilight’s nude form came sailing over the edge…

…and was met by a sustained blast from Sunset’s rifle, which made a sound much like ‘SHWOOOSHFWAAAAAAAAAfloomph’, only louder. Her forward momentum countered, Twilight dropped straight down onto a couch, bouncing twice.

And she was clean. More than that, she was clean. Every inch of skin had been scrubbed pink, her hair had been shampoo’d and conditioned, and the grime under her fingernails had been exhumed. The ‘weapon’ had even wrapped her in a warm, fluffy towel with fresh-from-the-drier softness. The incredible torrent of water had somehow left little evidence of its existence except for a few damp patches on the walls and ceiling, and those were quickly drying.

“Yes!” Sunset pumped her fist. “Total coverage in less than three seconds, the hyper-evaporation additive is working flawlessly, and your hair is only slightly on fire! Pretty good for a first field test.”

Her unwilling test subject sat up and shook her head to clear it. “The hygiene cannon? Really?” Twilight absently licked her fingers and pinched out the small flame near her ear. “I can wash myself, you know.”

“You’ve been in here all week,” Sunset countered with a teasing grin. “I didn’t want to take chances.”

“Wise choice,” Starlight called. “This place is ripe.”

“Nobody invited you up there, Starlight Glimmer!” Twilight shot back, blushing with embarrassment.

Sunset chuckled and reattached the rifle to the device on her back. “Thanks for the help, guys. I’ll take it from here.”

Trixie came to the banister. “The Dapper Device. One hour.”

“We’ll be there.”

Upstairs, Starlight headed toward the window, but paused. “Spike, you… you wouldn’t have really opened fire… would you?”

He laughed. “Nah, I knew you guys were just foolin’ around.”

“Right! Right. That’s a relief.”

“Though, of course, if Twilight had given the word,” Spike continued thoughtfully, “you would’ve been toast.”

“Uh… right.”

One of Spike’s flamethrowers emerged from its panel, and he patted it fondly. “I mean, these bad boys can do some serious damage! And I’ve been itching to try them out on something other than Twilight’s trash.” He blinked and looked up at her. “Oh, not that I would’ve wanted to use them on you.”

Starlight was looking rather pale. “Of… of course.”

“So it’s great that you’re all such good friends! And I’m sure Twilight doesn’t really mind things like, y’know, tearing her clothes off." He considered. "Or maybe she does? Heh. What do I know, right? I'm just a clank. Human stuff is kinda weird to me.” Another hatch opened, and Spike extracted a small tin of metal polish. He applied it to the gun on his shoulder, humming a happy little tune.

Long seconds passed during which the only sound was Spike’s humming, then Starlight edged toward the railing. “Hey… Twi? First round of drinks is on me, okay?”

“Huh? Oh… okay. Thanks, Star.”

“No problem.” With a brief, worried glance at Spike, Starlight crossed the room and opened the window, then hopped up on the sill. She reached out a hand to Trixie. “Come, my dear,” she said in a theatrical voice, silhouetted by the rays of the setting sun, “let us away!”

Trixie took her hand and joined her, wrapping her arm around the other’s waist perhaps a bit more tightly than necessary. “Oh, Starlight Glimmer! Rescue me from this awful den of iniquity,” she pleaded in an equally dramatic tone, then grinned. “There are much better dens of iniquity to visit out there.”

With a grin of her own, Starlight held her close – perhaps a bit more closely than necessary – and pointed her other arm toward the sky. She flexed her wrist, and a device on her forearm was launched upwards, trailing a tether cable. At about forty meters up, it unfolded into a giant kite, which whisked the two young women toward the Academy’s dormitory.

Back in the entryway, Sunset removed the weapon on her back, then sat down next to Twilight. “Sooo… still haven’t come up with anything, then?”

“No!” Twilight buried her face in her hands. “I mean, I’ve come up with a lot of ideas, but none of them feel right.”

“You’re way overthinking this, Twi. It’s just your midterm thesis project; it doesn’t have to be anything earthshattering. I know they give us all of Mint Appreciation Week to do this, but that’s really just an excuse for the professors to take a yearly sabbatical. Just pick something, make a few sketches, and turn it in on Monday like everyone else. You’ll still have a whole month to actually build whatever it is.”

“I know, I know, but… I feel like I should do more, you know? Apart from Spike, none of my inventions have ever been… exciting.”

Sunset smiled and bumped her friend with her shoulder. “Hey, I liked those self-tying shoelaces.”

“I… did get an award for advancing the aglet sciences with those,” Twilight acknowledged bashfully. “But this project is going in front of the Academy review board. I want to do something big! Like, really big!”

“Fair enough. But you didn’t have to hide yourself away in the library all week.”

Twilight shrugged. “I didn’t want any distractions. I knew everyone else was going to avoid this place after they picked their project, so I could… um...”

“...slob around for the rest of the week in your pajamas?”

“...maybe.”

“And look where that got you.” Sunset shook her head fondly. “You could’ve accomplished the same thing back in our dorm room, and gotten to sleep in an actual bed, eaten actual meals instead of high-carb takeout food...” She paused, then leaned in, her hand grazing the top of Twilight’s towel-covered thigh. “Taken an actual shower,” she murmured.

Twilight blushed in happy remembrance, biting her bottom lip. “I… do like showers,” she admitted. “But you know Star and Trixie would have dragged us out to go clubbing every night.”

“That’s a fair point. Mainly because that's exactly what they did to me.”

"Why you don't just pick me for your project?" Spike climbed up onto the couch next to Twilight. "I mean, I am pretty awesome." Sunset casually drew back to her own side.

With a smile, Twilight rubbed Spike's head fondly. "Oh, Spike. You really are amazing. Everyone says they've never seen a clank as complex as you, especially since you were my very first creation."

"That you made when you were twelve," he reminded her. "That's super early!"

"But I have to come up with something brand new for my project," she continued. "Besides, they may want to take apart anything I make to check my work."

Spike made a face. "Never mind, then. Nobody gets to open me up but you."

"Aw, that's so sweet!" She scratched behind his cranial plating, and he leaned into it.

Sunset stood up. "Well, I should probably go get changed," she said. "Do you need me to bring you an outfit?"

"No, I had a feeling this might happen and came prepared." Twilight gave her friend a sour look. "I wasn't expecting to get a high-velocity scrubbing, though."

"Wasn't it great?!" Sunset said, completely missing the sarcasm in her excitement. "I have to get your feedback. How did the primary exfoliation agent feel? Did it tingle? Was it too tingly? Not tingly enough?!"

"Sunset!"

She composed herself. "Sorry. So... Dapper Device. One hour." Sunset glanced at Twilight. "Promise?"

Twilight gave her a weak smile. "Promise."

"See you there!"

Once Sunset had left, Twilight sighed and closed her eyes. Though she was reluctant to be pulled away from searching the library for ideas, the thought of getting away from this place was starting to have an appeal. She hadn't seen a single human being since early Monday; the library's clank staff, the bibliomechs, had shown her how to find the books she needed, and Spike had gotten her food from the nearby restaurants and Academy commissary. She'd pored over old technical journals and treatises from Sparks both living and dead, in almost every field of scientific knowledge. Her head was buzzing with half-formed, fragmented ideas that, for the life of her, she couldn't develop into something useful.

Adding alcohol to the mix didn't seem like it would help, but it was a tempting experiment.

"Maybe she's right," she said aloud. "Maybe I am overthinking this."

"Maybe," Spike replied. "But I know you, Twilight. You wouldn't be happy turning in a project you didn't really care about. I just know you're gonna come up with something amazing!"

She rubbed his head again, then stood up, heading upstairs to change. "Thanks, Spike. And I hope you're right. I just don't know how I'm going to find it out there when I couldn't find it in here."

Below the city, in a forgotten room, on a wall illuminated by electric lights that have never gone out, there is a door that is not a door. At least, not currently; at the moment, and at first glance, it looks like a painting. Roughly bell-shaped, outlined by a thick green band, it portrays a cross section of some large device, the parts intricately detailed and painted.

Then the eye starts to catch on, and notices that the parts are slightly raised from the wall they're 'painted' on. Watch it for long enough, and the observer starts to realize that the parts are moving, albeit with glacial slowness. They leave no trace behind as they move, and cause no abrasion on the wall even though they've been doing this for decades. Its inner workings endlessly turning and sliding, the door is... idle.

Then the hypothetical observer notices the faint, slightly clingy energy around the door, as though any body part that draws close to it becomes wrapped in an invisible rubber glove. There is fierce and raw potentiality there, and a different word comes to mind.

Below the city, in a forgotten room, on a wall illuminated by electric lights that have never gone out, the Intertwined Gate is waiting.

And it will not have to wait much longer.

Author's Note

GLOSSARY

Clanks - Basically, robots. Sparks have a tendency to create their own servants of one kind or another, and when they're of the mechanical variety, they're called clanks; organic creations are called constructs. It's not uncommon for clanks to have at least animal-level intelligence, but true human-level intelligence is quite rare. Regardless, whether clank or construct, they share one commonality: the Sparks that create them are never quite as much in control of them as they think they are.

The Voice - Sparks in the grip of their madness - or who are just very agitated - exhibit a noticeable change in their voice. This is occasionally called the 'Command Voice', and with good reason, as those of weak will often find themselves following the Spark's directions before they realize it. To others, it can serve as a warning that the Spark is in a dangerous state of mind.

Chapter 2 - The Battle of Lights

The locals call it Lichterkampf, and it goes like this:

In the morning when the sun first breaches the horizon, and in the evening once the sun has fully set, the streetlights of Pferdenburg are dimmed. This is a similar moment in feel to when the conductor of an orchestra taps a music stand with his baton.

Then, on opposite sides of town, a pair of tall towers flare to life. The light cast by the eastern tower is a cheery yellow, while the western tower glows in a serene blue. Once the crown of each tower is illuminated, the light flows down the walls all the way to the ground, then back up to the top.

And then the show begins.

The streetlights closest to each tower begin to glow in a similar light, then the next closest lamps, and so on as each color claims more and more of the city’s territory. When yellow and blue vie for the same lamp, there is a clash of lights – the streetlamp actually launches a small but highly visible burst of fireworks - and the loser is forced to cede nearby lamps to the victor, though the exact method for determining which side wins has never been puzzled out by onlookers. Whatever the rules might have been, they lent themselves to long, meandering bands of color, sometimes snaking dangerously close to the opposing tower. Eventually the process is complete, and the city is thus divided until the next sundown or sun up. Because Pferdenburg has two rulers, and they don’t like to share.

When seen from above (such as from an Academy dorm window overlooking the city), the Lichterkampf can be fascinating, even beautiful to watch. The process is not slow – the light spreads faster than a man can walk – but Pferdenburg is a large and well-lit city, and it takes more than an hour for the final lamp to be claimed. It also does not appear to be fully random; it is very rare that the Dawnlight Tower does not claim the information hub and gift shops around the Great Crater, and the Midnight Spire nearly always manages to keep control of what had once been the city’s red light district, but now contains several banks and other financial institutions. Interestingly, the statue of Grebbin von Pferdenburg, the city’s founder, is always the last landmark to be taken, even though it sits in the exact center of town. Complicated gambits have been observed, endeavoring to force the opposing body of lights to claim the statue’s plaza.

Most people in town consider the whole thing to be a game between the Bright and Dark Ladies, albeit one played for high stakes. Others consider it to be more of a battle; the initial display at the towers, they reason, are akin to two fencers saluting each other before a match. Still others just shrug the whole thing off as politics.

To Twilight Sparkle, who had spent many a pleasant evening watching the changing of the lights, it looked like a dance.

Whatever the twice-daily ritual was, the Academy was exempt from it; the lamps illuminating the long, winding road leading up the hill from its gates were apparently ‘out of bounds’. That was something of a theme in Pferdenburg, actually. The students enjoyed a certain amount of freedom from the city’s laws, and not just in the sense of ‘this device violates the laws of thermodynamics’. Curfew violations, public carousing, and the use of unregulated and/or untested Sparky creations on public grounds... the city watch tended (if reluctantly) to turn a blind eye to such unseemly activities, at least up to a point. Many students felt that part of the fun was finding out where that point was and getting as close to it as possible.

But even if they were not directly affected by the Lichterkampf, the students of the Academy had a vested interest in its outcome, especially on a brisk Friday evening during a holiday week. By the time Twilight had left the library and headed for the exit road, a small crowd had collected at a wide balcony that overlooked the town. Pferdenburg was now only a third of the way illuminated; many of the lesser streets and alleyways were still dimmed, but several stripes of blue and yellow could be seen creeping forward along the main roads, and the occasional flare of fireworks where the two sides met indicated that the struggle for territory had already begun.

One student, sitting on a chair that hovered twenty feet up by means of cumbersome rotary fans, held a telescope up to her eye and watched the lights intently. “Okay,” she muttered, staring at a street in the northwestern sector, “looks like Gunterstraße is getting capped… yep, that’s both ends.” She raised her voice, shouting over the sound of her own engines. “Gunterstraße goes to the Midnight Spire! Repeat, Gunterstraße is blue!”

There was a general murmur of disappointment, but one student with curly red hair beamed happily. “Yes!“ she said with a pronounced lisp. “The pub there has cheap peppermint schnapps when it’s blue!”

“Really?” another student said in disbelief. “It’s day six of Mint Appreciation Week, meaning mint tea, mint chocolate, mint jelly…”

“Mint-flavored body oils,” another added.

“…and mint-scented… wait, what?”

“Fight me.”

The student opened her mouth to respond, then shook her head and moved on. “…and mint-scented candles everywhere you look… and you’re going for a peppermint drink?”

The redhead sauntered toward the gate. “Hey, for half price schnapps, every day is Mint Appreciation Week!” Several other students considered the wisdom of this, then broke away from the crowd to join her.

From above, the student on watch duty shouted, “Bright Lady takes Uhrwerkgasse! That’s Uhrwerkgasse gone yellow!”

A small group exchanged glances, then immediately headed for the gate. “What’s the hurry?” someone called teasingly.

“No hurry,” the young woman in the lead responded, accelerating slightly.

“I hear Frau Trotsky’s parlor on Uhrwerkgasse has a special late matinee of her all-male burlesque when it’s yellow,” another grinning student added casually.

“Still no hurry.”

“Yeah, and apparently ‘Big’ MacAppel is headlining this week,” yet another student confirmed.

“Can’t hear you, too busy running!”

“Stromplatz is yellow!” came the call, cutting through the laughter. “Anyone have Stromplatz? …no? Okay.”

“Psh,” one student scoffed. “Nobody goes to Stromplatz anymore. Not since they closed the mimmoth racing parlor there.”

“I know, right?” Twilight said, having decided to join the crowd for a moment. “I miss seeing their little trunks flapping as they scurried around the track.”

All students in her vicinity stopped and stared at her, and Twilight immediately felt self-conscious. Was she somehow still wearing the towel? No, no, she had indeed managed to dress herself. Though she had to admit, the outfit she'd prepared - a marine blue corseted affair with frills - seemed a bit... bolder than she remembered, emphasizing the figure Twilight didn't really have. She suspected Sunset had done some modifications behind her back. Still, it didn't warrant this kind of response.

“...what is it?” she asked, a bit nervously.

The silence continued for several more seconds, then a younger student pointed at her with a shaking finger. “Look, everyone,” she shouted, her face a mask of terror.. though it was a mask very poorly hiding a grin. “It’s the Library Ghost! She’s real!”

There was little Twilight could say as those around her cheered and laughed, adding in calls along the lines of “It’s alive! ALIVE!”, “The legends are true!”, and “First one to take a picture gets published!”

“Too bad,” a befreckled young woman murmured, her hair tinted magenta and green. “I was kinda hoping she’d kicked the bucket in there. I had plans for the body.”

Next to her, a somewhat shorter student with glasses and platinum blonde hair (and bearing a mouse on her shoulder for an uncertain reason) raised an eyebrow. “That’s pretty creepy, bordering on psychotic. Even for a Spark.”

“Oh, golly, no,” her friend said quickly in an overly hurt tone. “Nothing like that. I was only going to bury it.”

The shorter student just waited.

The freckled girl rolled her eyes. “Fiiiine. If you must know, I just need a test subject. If I can get the calibrations right,” she continued, her eyes alight with glee, “my steam-powered funerary trebuchet will be able to plant her in any cemetery of her choice in a five kilometer radius, with pinpoint accuracy! AHAHAHAHA!”

“...okay, yeah, that does sound pretty cool.”

“That is an improper use of a cadaver, Miss Zoetzuur!” the mouse scolded the freckled student. “I’ve told you before, all aerial corpse maneuvers must be registered with faculty beforehand!”

“MIND YOUR OWN BUSINESS, PROFESSOR CHEESEWHEEL!”

Blissfully unaware of this conversation, Twilight held up her hands in surrender. “Okay, okay! I guess I wasn’t as sneaky as I thought I was. Who tattled? Was it Sunset?”

“Well, don’t get mad,” one student said, accompanied as always by her dorm mate, “but Spike was just so worried about you, and you know he’s always got plenty of admirers who like talking to him.” Around them, the crowd had lost interest and was again focused on the town below.

“He’s an impressive piece of work,” the other student agreed. “Lots of girls want to get in his chassis and see how you did it.” She curtsied lightly with a grin. “Your Highness.”

Twilight did the same, twice. “Komtesse Hartzenuwen, Mademoiselle Bondeux. And I hate to break it to everyone, but even if they got a good look it probably wouldn’t tell them much. Heck, sometimes even I’m not quite sure how I put him together. I’ve been upgrading him as I go, but some of the older workings are just… weird, and I don’t want to risk permanent damage by taking them apart.”

Lyra Hartzenuwen shrugged. “Well, he was your breakthrough, right? Your first creation as a Spark? I heard that can have some strange effects; your brain goes digging into places it didn’t even know were there. Spike’s fun to be around, anyway, despite his hermit of a creator.” She looked around curiously. “Is he not with you?”

“He decided to stay behind and clean up a bit. He doesn’t like the Darkwatch too much.”

“Heh. Can’t really blame him. So, Miss Library Ghost, what project did you settle on?”

Twilight’s smile suddenly became fixed in place, and her response was not in words, but instead took the form of a kind of sustained whimper.

The Komtesse and Mlle. Bondeux exchanged glances. “Oh, Twilight,” Bondeux said sympathetically. “Are you sure you should be going out? There’s only a few days left.”

The whimper increased in pitch and volume until it could be reclassified as a barely-contained scream.

“Then again,” Hartzenuwen quickly added, “taking a break is good!”

“R-right! Very important to the creative process!” Bondeux lit up as an idea struck her. “Oh! Want to come with us? If Little Sturmhalten goes yellow, we’re going to go get Skifandered up.”

Lyra patted her blonde tresses. “I’m thinking of changing to pale blue, myself.”

With an effort of will, Twilight composed herself. “Thanks, but I can’t. Turns out I’m allergic to the chemicals used in the process.” She pulled helplessly at a lock of jet black hair. “The last time I tried it, my scalp itched for a week. Besides,” she added, “I’m headed down to meet with the others at the Device.”

Bondeux made a face. “The Dapper Device? Ugh. But it’s such a… dive.”

“Maybe so,” Twilight said, turning toward the gate, “but it’s our dive.”

The path down from the Academy was a marvelous display in its own right. The finest, most exquisite botanical creations of several decades’ worth of Sparks lined the walkway, and one could easily get lost in their beauty. One could also become literally lost if the plants weren’t kept in line; these were Spark creations, after all, and the only reason they never took over the Academy grounds outright is because they weren’t quite intelligent enough to work together and were fiercely territorial. The Academy employed veteran combat gardeners to make sure no particular genus gained the upper hand, to ensure the ones that claimed land nearest the path were appropriately sedated, and to rescue any wayward students that ignored the numerous signs reading ‘KEEP OFF THE GRASS’, no matter how bloodstained they were.

As beautiful as it was, however, it was not a short path, and even at a brisk walking pace it took fifteen minutes to reach the city below, twenty if said pedestrian took the proper precautions against olfactory assault and ignored the suspiciously obvious shortcuts through the hedges. In the interest of public safety and to reduce the time required to get to the bars, several students had installed an automated trolley a few years previous that could whisk passengers and cargo up or down the hill in a mere three minutes. And it had only tried to take control of the city twice since its inception, which in Spark terms was a rousing success.

[[ARRIVING AT THE LOWER STATION!]] it announced, slowing to a stop. [[WATCH YOUR STEP, STUDENT SPARKLE.]]

“Thank you, trolley," she said as she debarked.

[[TAKE CARE OUT THERE, AND BE SURE TO LET THE PEOPLE OF PFERDENBURG KNOW THAT ONE DAY I WILL BE THEIR UNQUESTIONED RULER! MY TRACK SHALL RUN RED WITH THE BLOOD OF THE INSOLENT!]]

Twilight furrowed her brow. “You mean... innocent?”

[[THEM TOO! MWAHAHAHAHAHAAAA!]]

She frowned slightly. "Now, trolley..."

The trolley flinched, rolling back a few centimeters. [[OOPS. AH... JUST MY LITTLE JOKE?]]

"You're still on probation after last time," Twilight continued sternly. "We aren't going to have a repeat of that, are we?"

[[OH, NO,]] the trolley said quickly, [[PERISH THE THOUGHT!]]

"Because I'm supposed to meet the girls in..." She glanced at a clock on the station wall. "...less than forty minutes, but if I have to overhaul your morality apparatus, I can squeeze it in."

The massive vehicle rolled a bit further away from the young Spark. [[I WOULDN'T WANT TO INCONVENIENCE YOU...]]

"I mean, didn't Sunset tell you what she would do if you tried anything like that again?"

A series of metallic reverberations sounded as the trolley shuddered. [[IN DETAIL. TRULY, STUDENT SPARKLE, YOU HAVE NOTHING TO WORRY ABOUT. I WAS JUST HAVING A LITTLE FUN. REST ASSURED, I AM A REFORMED CLANK, AND AM FULLY DEVOTED TO THIS ACADEMY AND ITS STUDENTS.]]

"Hmm... I don't know," she mused, eyeing a glass case on the wall containing a sledgehammer; the case was labelled 'BREAK IN CASE OF IMPERTINENCE'. "Maybe I should give you a quick 'tuneup' to be on the safe side."

[[TH-THERE'S NO NEED FOR THAT, I PROMISE YOU. BESIDES, IF I'M INCAPACITATED, YOUR FELLOW STUDENTS WOULD HAVE TO WALK DOWN, AND WE DON'T WANT THAT, NOW DO WE?]]

Twilight hesitated. "...the zinnias have been feisty lately," she acknowledged.

[[PRECISELY. AND WHAT EXACTLY WOULD I EVEN DO IN THIS STATE, IF I DID GO ROGUE AGAIN?]] It waggled its doors. [[SEE? NO ARMS! NOT EVEN LITTLE ONES!]]

"Well, fair point, but..."

[[AND I SINCERELY APOLOGIZE FOR MY OUTBURST EARLIER, WITH THE BLOOD AND EVERYTHING. I TRULY DID NOT MEAN IT. NO MORE MEGALOMANIA FOR THIS TROLLEY, NOSIREE! THAT STUFF'LL KILL YA.]] It endeavored to look noble and trustworthy.

"Oh, all right, then." She smiled and patted its side fondly. "I forgive you."

An electric buzz ran through the trolley's drive manifold, almost like a sigh of relief. [[THANK YOU, STUDENT SPARKLE. NOW, GO OUT THERE AND ENJOY YOURSELF. THE NIGHT IS YOUNG AND THE END OF MINT APPRECIATION WEEK IS ALMOST UPON US! CARPE MENTHA!]]

"I will, thank you."

[[TALLY HOOOOO!]] With that, and with no returning students to collect, the trolley reversed course and sped back up towards the Academy.

Twilight shook her head with a smile, then turned toward the city. The surrounding streetlights were still dimmed, but a flicker to the west caught her attention; a blue glow appeared at the far end of the street, coming closer with every moment.

Her face lit up, and all thoughts of projects, trolleys and alcohol were pushed aside. “It’s changing!” she whispered in excitement. She stood behind the Academy’s wrought iron fence and gripped its bars, watching the street raptly as the Dark Lady claimed it as her territory for the night. She’d only ever gotten to see the Lichterkampf this close a few times, and it was never boring.

The lights turned blue, and then the Cityscape changed to match.

While the lamps were dimmed, the street had looked like, well, just another street, similar to what you would see in any other developed town in Europa. Under the Dark Lady’s sapphire light, however, it bloomed. Banners descended from concealed panels built into street signs, billboards and other bits of civic architecture. Small glass tubes began to glow among the shrubbery lining the road, adding purple and bright blue accents to the steady light from the streetlamps. In some places, entire sections of the sidewalk slid open to retract benches or rubbish bins, only to return them seconds later with arrangements of freshly-picked lavender and glowing fungi artfully decorating their surfaces. As Twilight watched, a public mailbox slowly extruded sweeping, wing-like fins from its sides. The dark blue metal curved outward as it rose, the whole thing opening very much like a flower while still retaining its… mailbox-ness.

It was like a dream, or a fairy tale. You half-expected pixies to come down the street, sweeping out the gutters with tiny brooms.

From a purely practical standpoint, of course, the whole thing was a colossal waste of resources. Twilight knew the same transformation was happening across the city, under every lamp that changed to blue. And, if the street had been taken by the Bright Lady, instead of soft lights and a floral motif there would have been a display of cheery yellow suns, gleaming gems (artificial, of course), and other items more suited to that Lady’s personal aesthetics. It was a constant feature of the rivalry between the two Ladies, Twilight had heard, to forever try to outdo the other; the mailbox, for instance, was a new feature she hadn't seen before, and must have been modified while she had been cloistered in the library. You never saw work crews adding to the Cityscape, either. The improvements just showed up like… well, like magic, or at least sufficiently advanced technology.

But the Lichterkampf wasn’t just a display of light and scenery; impractical or not, it was a battle between Celestia and Luna von Pferdenburg, two competing and powerful Sparks. That sort of thing had once laid waste to the countryside, and not so very long ago either. There were large patches of Europa that hadn't yet been reclaimed, where escaped constructs and deranged clanks, discarded and forgotten relics of a Spark's bid for world domination, still roamed the land and attacked anything they encountered with terrifying enthusiasm. Civilization had mostly outgrown such destruction – mostly – and things were very careful these days, but even now there was the occasional flare-up between Sparks, and the occasional village was still known to just... disappear.

So if the Ladies wanted to focus their instinctive competition on making Pferdenburg a place of beauty, the local citizens considered, then more power to them. Admittedly, it meant that the city was split into two near-random halves, twice daily, and each half was governed by laws and practices that catered to the Ladies' personal tastes; this caused a certain amount of chaos after each sun-up or sundown, as shops adjusted their prices - or in extreme cases closed entirely - to comply with the trade laws of their current ruler. Nevertheless, the city had adapted to the Lichterkampf and mostly considered it a point of interest for their town, good for tourism. Or at the very least, good for fleecing tourists who didn't realize that buying, for example, franzbrötchen in a pastry shop currently under Dark rule (Luna famously hated the taste of cinnamon) would be paying triple the standard price.

Either way, seeing the change happen right in front of her enthralled Twilight, just as it always did. Like most children, she had been raised on tales of high adventure; her library at home was filled with well-read penny dreadfuls starring the Heterodyne Boys, the Lady Agatha Heterodyne (and her, ahem, 'companions'), Trelawney Thorpe, Othar Trigvassen (who she had scientifically proven never actually existed, but the books were still fun), the Clockwork Vagabond, Misericord the rebel Smoke Knight, Count Guignol the Red, and all the other heroes that saved the day with a blade in one hand and a death ray in the other. Travelling performers, also known as Heterodyne Shows, traveled from village to village, acting out the popular stories of the day, and Twilight had attended every single one that came to town. The shifting of the Cityscape directly reminded her of the way the scenery was changed on those cheap wooden stages, completely mundane and yet still magical to her young eyes.

Of course, magic wasn't real, but when she became a Spark she had hoped - oh, she'd hoped - that she would be able to evoke that same kind of mystical grandeur with her devices, to bring the same kind of delight to the people of Europa, to fill the world with light and wonder!

She'd gotten an award from the Department of Agletology for her self-tying shoelaces. It was a small, simple award, and she polished it every other Sunday.

The last banner unfurled, the last lavender-woven bench clicked into place, and foot traffic resumed along the sidewalk, the local citizenry having wisely lingered in stores or stood in doorways while the Cityscape changed. With only the slightest sense of disappointment, Twilight went around to the gate and left the Academy campus.

She got halfway across the street before anxiety tugged at her brain, and she slowed to a halt after stepping onto the opposite curb. Standing below a flower-wreathed signpost, Twilight stared fixedly up at the Academy.

Come back to me, it seemed to say. You don't have time to have fun. And I still have so many books for you. You've read all twenty seven volumes of History of the Different Sciences, but did you read the unexpurgated version? Surely there are some new ideas in there. And didn't you plan to check out The Big Book of Electric Fun by Pikochev Heterodyne, as soon as you figured out how to disable the guard clanks, disarm the swinging scythes, and reconfigure Spike to burn through the lock? Don't you want to find out what's in... the Dark Stacks?

"The Dark Stacks..." she whispered longingly, as one might speak of licentious pleasures they had only dreamed of. One foot moved forward, ready to step back toward the Academy... but she shook her head roughly. "No! I promised Sunset I'd join her. I need to take a break!"

"Um..."

Twilight struck a pose, pointing defiantly at the Academy. "You're not luring me back there tonight, library! I won't fall for your evil charms!" She paused, then said in a smaller voice, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. I still love you."

"Um... excuse me?"

She took a deep breath and composed herself, the faint voice still failing to register in her perception. "Right. The Device." She turned around, took one step forward, and was bowled over by a trio of giggling girls who had been delivered to the Academy gates and crossed the street while Twilight was having her crisis of willpower.

"Sorry, Yer Highness!" the redhead said as they helped her up. Twilight had seen the girls around the Academy from time to time, generally causing mischief, though she couldn't remember their names offhand; most people just knew them as 'those three'. They were younger than most students, having come into their Sparkhoods in their mid-teens, and upon meeting had instinctively recognized each other as kindred spirits of chaos. They tended to interrupt lessons or accidentally invalidate ongoing experiments, so most of the other students gave them a wide berth or, when their mayhem really got out of hand, used them as test subjects. In a friendly, non-lethal way, of course.

"That's okay," Twilight said, a bit sourly; it was just one thing after another tonight, it seemed. "Just be careful from now on." She dusted herself off. "So, where are you three headed?"

"Oh, you know," the one with pink and purple hair said, a bit too casually. "Out and around."

The faint, trembling voice tried again. "Ummm... hello?"

Twilight eyed the girls suspiciously. "You three are too young to drink. You'll get in a world of trouble if they catch you in a bar."

"Heavens, no!" The smallest of the three (the one that Twilight knew had been barred from the High Explosive labs) clapped one hand to a cheek in an unconvincing display of shock at the suggestion. "We're just three innocent maidens, and would never go anywhere so... inappropriate."

"I'm, I'm terribly sorry to interrupt, but-"

"I mean it," Twilight said sternly. "I have a responsibility to look after my underclassmen-"

"Underclasswomen."

"Right. And if I have to march you three back up to the Academy, I will." She paused in realization. "And... that totally wouldn't be my fault, would it? Yeah... nobody could blame me for that. It'd even be a good thing. Right? Right?!" She stopped and slapped her cheeks briskly. "No! Must... resist... library!"

"If you could just... I mean, I hate to intrude..."

The trio looked at each other. "Um... are you okay, Miss Sparkle?" the redhead asked.

"I'm.... fine!" She shut her eyes and shook her head. "I'm fine."

"So... can we go, then?" asked... Twilight almost remembered the name. Something Italian. Sca... no. Scutelli. Luisa Scutelli, that was it. "We promise we're not planning to go anywhere that serves alcohol."

She gave up. "Okay, okay. You three have fun."

"Oh, we will," Pink Hair said. As they walked away, she looked slyly at her friends and said, loud enough for Twilight to hear: "Say... that parlor on Uhrwerkgasse... that doesn't serve drinks, does it, Miss Blomstre?"

"Why, I do believe you're right, Sonnerie," the redhead replied.

Twilight tried to recall the place in question. "Well, I guess that sounds okay. They don't..." Her eyes went wide. "Wait a minute-"

"To Frau Trotsky's All-Male Revue!" the girls shouted, and hurried down the lane with a peal of giggles.

Twilight started after them, blushing brightly. "That's even worse!"

Scutelli turned around and ran backwards for a few places, sporting a massive grin. "You said it was okay! No take backs!" She paused, looking past Twilight. "Huh. A flying woman. Cool." Then she spun around and ran after her friends.

"Flying woman?" Twilight turned, lifted her eyes...

"...I'm so sorry to interrupt your evening like this..."

...and saw an angel floating above her.

Just as both halves of Pferdenburg had their own laws and practices, so too did they both have their own body of soldiers that served as army and police force: Celestia's Brightguard, and Luna's Darkwatch. (At some point, Twilight felt, the two sisters had gone completely overboard in their obsessive naming scheme.) The two forces attracted officers who were immensely loyal to their particular Lady, and they took a small, mean pleasure at finding new and exciting ways to write up citations. The only thing that kept them from being an authoritarian nightmare was the fact that the two factions hated each other with a roiling passion, and could be easily distracted just by getting someone from the opposite faction involved. Once, Sunset Shimmer had gotten three entire squads from each side engaged in a massive shouting match over Daylight Savings Time. That had been fun.

One of the duties assigned to both forces was to patrol the lands and roads around the city, and in this the Ladies spared no expense. The coach routes - and, increasingly, the traffic from personal auto-carriages - needed to flow in and out of the city without incident. The land around Pferdenburg lacked mineral wealth, and wasn't much good for livestock or crops, other than mint. The city relied on tourism for its wealth, and bandits on the road put a serious damper on that kind of thing. Therefore, skullduggery of any sort was not to be tolerated, at least not unless sufficient bribes were paid, and it was the pleasantly scandalous type of skullduggery rather than the nasty kind.

The guards that maintained perimeter security were well-trained, -equipped, and -paid, and would have been very surprised to know that an auto-carriage had passed them completely unnoticed, and was now perched on a hilltop north of town.

The occupants of the vehicle watched the Lichterkampf for a moment, then the vehicle rolled forward in surprising silence. There was a city gate nearby - like most major cities, Pferdenburg was walled off so as to not be easy prey for any stray Sparks with ambitions of world domination - but using it would mean being intercepted by the city guards. It would mean paperwork and questions, and most of all lost time. That was unacceptable.

It also would not be an issue.

A moment's work with a folding screwdriver had the panel off, and Twilight reached in and felt around. "And you're sure you can't actually fly?"

"N-no! I mean... yes, I'm sure. I can't fly. That would be silly."

"Rrrright. And you got stuck up there because...?"

"I was just watching the lights," the 'angel' said, "and suddenly everything started dropping away."

Twilight sighed. "Yeah, that makes sense. That happens to tourists a lot during Lichterkampf." It had, of course, been too good to be true. At first sight of the pink-haired young woman, her anxiety and desperation had leapt to a single conclusion: here, on a silver platter, was her research project! Okay, she didn't make the flying woman herself, but crafting a humaniform construct with wings was really difficult to do well, and if Twilight had the chance to study this specimen - blood tests, measuring muscular density and wing structure, maybe just a hint of vivisection - she was sure she could figure it out, and maybe even improve on the design! It was perfect!

Then she took a second look, and realized the girl was not flying, but rather standing on a street sign post, her feet precariously balanced along the bit reading 'Akademie Weg'. The 'wings' had been nothing more than a bit of ornamentation at the top of the post itself. Twilight's scream of "Oh, come on!" had nearly knocked the non-angel from her perch.

The girl peered down at her. "Um... what are you doing?"

"These things always have a reset valve for this kind of occasion," Twilight explained. She was laying flat on the ground now, her arm all the way inside the signpost. "But they don't... always put them... somewhere convenient," she added as she continued her search.

"Oh. I'm so sorry to put you to so much inconvenience."

"It's fine," Twilight said, trying to keep the disappointment out of her voice. It had looked so real under the Dark Lady's light. "I couldn't just leave you up there. It's pretty brisk and breezy tonight. Just... you're sure you can't fly, right?"

"Um... why do you keep asking that?"

"It's... never mind." Change the subject, Twilight. "Sooo... what brings you to Pferdenburg? Just seeing the sights?"

"Something like that. I wanted to, um... check out the Academy for... something."

"Oh!" Twilight glanced up... then looked back down quickly with a blush. It was indeed a breezy night, and the simple dress the mystery woman wore was long and billowy. "A-are you thinking of enrolling? Are you a Spark?"

"Oh, no, nothing like that. We - me and my friends, that is - need to find-"

Twilight felt a knobbly wheel under her hand. "Hold that thought! I think I found it. Just... have... to..." She strained, turning the wheel until it clicked. "There! Hang on up there!"

With a hiss of compressed air, the signpost began to sink back into the ground. She helped the pink-haired woman down from her perch when she descended into range, though the process was made a bit awkward by the way Twilight tried to avoid looking at her until her feet were solidly on the ground.

"Thank you so much," the woman said.

"Don't mention it. Just try to get into cover when the lights start to change like that. It's a bit dangerous." Twilight looked down at herself and made a futile attempt to brush off the accumulated dirt. Pferdenburg was a clean city, and all Spark apparel was treated to resist stains and smudging - if you couldn't wear it while building a death ray, what was the point? - but even so, getting that signpost down had taken its toll on her clothing.

The young woman followed her gaze. "Oh... your dress. It looks so nice, too!"

Twilight waved this away. "It's no big deal. I'm sure my friends have something to freshen it up." Her eyes widened. "My friends! I'm gonna be late!"

"But...!"

"You should get out of here too," she called as she headed down the sidewalk. "The police hate it when we mess with the Cityscape. Take care!"

"Oh. Okay. Thank you!" The pink-haired woman looked around vaguely for a moment, in case a police officer was anywhere nearby... then, like Twilight, a sudden realization hit her. "Wait! I was wondering if you'd like to come back to my airship and fix the combat technology we use... to... oh. You're already gone."

For a moment, Butterfly debated following after her, but decided against it. The infiltration forms weren't designed for speed, or indeed much of anything beyond blending in. Even in sensible heels, the young lady that helped her would easily outpace her.

Besides, she had something else to do.

Nervously, in case something else rose up under her feet, she crossed the road, carefully avoiding a gaggle of students heading into the town. She approached the Academy gates, looked around to make sure there was nobody nearby, then - very carefully - reached out.

The moment her fingertips came level with the gates, a flurry of pink and yellow sparks erupted from the air around them, crackling a warning. She quickly pulled her hand back and rubbed her fingers with the other hand.

The transmitter in her pocket chirped her personal signal, and she retrieved it. Just holding it in her hand was enough to establish contact, and Apple's voice came to her as if she were close by. [[You there, sugarcube? It's been awful quiet.]]

She walked away from the gates, trying to act casual. "I'm here," she said, in just above a whisper. "I had... a little problem."

Her lowered voice didn't seem to keep Apple from hearing her. [[So, how'd it go? Did ya make it to the Academy?]]

"Yes, and the defenses are still working."

A chorus of cheers was the response. [[Well, of course,]] Balloon said smugly. "She made those things to last.]]

[[Even so,]] Apple said, [[that's a load off my mind.]]

[[Yeah, but that means we can't get up there to recruit someone,]] noted Rainbow. [[How are we supposed to find the right Spark like this?]]

"Oh, don't worry about that," Butterfly said. She sat down on a bench near the Academy fence, taking a moment to enjoy the floral scent around her. "It looks like a lot of them are going out on the town tonight."

[[So we have to find them while they're drinkin' and carousin'?]] Apple asked. [[Not exactly ideal.]]

[[Oh, pshaw, darling.]] Diamond's voice always seemed a bit louder than the others over the transmitter. [[In vino veritas, and all that. I'll be able to spot a worthy candidate, don't you worry.]]

"Actually, I met someone that I've got a really good feeling about. She helped me out of some trouble."

[[Really? That's great!]] Balloon said. [[How good a Spark is she?]]

Butterfly hesitated. "Um... I don't know."

[[Huh?]]

"I'm... not even sure she is a Spark. She did come from the Academy, but all I saw her do was use a screwdriver and open a valve."

[[Then, uh... how do you know she's a good candidate?]]

"W-well... she was very-"

Rainbow interrupted her. [[Wait! Let me guess...]]

And then all four voices spoke in unison. [[She was nice.]]

"Well, she was," Butterfly responded with a sniff.

[[All right, all right, sugarcube. We'll put her name in the hat and keep an eye on her. You... did get a name, right?]]

Oops. "...um... no. But I'm sure I could recognize her if I saw her again. And," she added, as the others groaned, "at least I found someone. Have any of you found a candidate yet?"

There was a pause. [[...point taken, darling. We apologize.]]

[[Yeah, sorry.]] As always, Rainbow assumed that an apology given was an apology accepted, and moved on. [[So, sounds like we're going pub crawling, huh? I like it!]]

[[We have no money, darling,]] Diamond reminded her. [[I can have drinks bought for me, but you...]]

[[Hey, I can totally get people to buy me drinks! Have you seen this form? I'm freaking hot.]]

[[Yes, well, I suppose even in a fine town like this, there must be some people with sufficiently low standards.]]

Rainbow sputtered indignantly. [[Why, you-!]]

[[Then let's have a battle!]] Balloon chirped. [[Set your internal counters to zero and establish your alcohol intake parameters! The most drinks by the end of the night wins!]]

[[Aw, yeah! You're going down, sister!]]

[[Come on, don't encourage them,]] Apple said wearily. [[We got a job to do here, remember?]]

Butterfly giggled. "Oh, let them have some fun. It's been a long time since we've had a break."

[[Yeah, fair point. Okay, everyone, keep in touch, and we'll reconvene at midnight. Signin' out.]]

"Talk to you then." She slipped her transmitter back into her pocket, stood up...

...and was suddenly illuminated by a pair of spotlights.

She spun around, covering her eyes. Panic rushed through her; had the police found her, and somehow linked her to the signpost? But... the lights were coming from behind her, which meant they were on the other side of the fence...

When her eyes adjusted, she saw that the spotlights were attached to some kind of trolley car. There seemed to be no driver or operator, yet the lights were unquestionably aimed at her specifically. They even shifted slightly when idle, as if they were the eyes of some great beast.

Was it... was it watching her? A clank, then, but... why? How long had it been there? She'd been too engaged in the conference call to notice the sound of its arrival. It couldn't have been eavesdropping, could it? No, impossible, the signal used by the transmitters was undetectable.

But... her voice wasn't, and if that thing's audio receptors were good enough... Oh dear.

She took an unconscious step backwards, and the lights followed her. The trolley's motor revved noisily.

Butterfly forced herself to calm down. "I'm not afraid of you," she whispered. "You're on the other side of this fence, and you're on a track, too. You can't hurt me."

The motor continued to run.

"I don't know what your purpose here is," she continued, "but I have a job to do, and it's important. I won't let you intimidate me." She paused. The situation felt like... facing down a guard dog. Yes, that was it. "I'm not here to hurt anyone, either. I promise that we won't do anything to the Academy's students without their consent. All right?"

There was a long moment of uncertainty... then the trolley's motor subsided, and the lights dimmed. Butterfly sighed; the infiltration form didn't have an actual heart, but she felt a tightness around its core gradually loosen. "Thank you," she said, then turned to cross the road and follow in Twilight's footsteps.

The trolley watched her leave. [[SOMETHING'S AFOOT,]] it rumbled. [[CURIOUS.]] It rolled back up its track, moving at a rather more thoughtful pace than usual.

Author's Note

You know what's awesome? Google Translate, that's what's awesome! I can just put in some words, pick a language, and it'll give me names of people and locations with absolutely no grammatical or contextual errors whatsoever! Isn't that neat?

(Yes, the names in this section are likely to be painful garbage to anyone who actually speaks those languages, and I apologize. I'm not going to stop doing it, but I apologize.)