"Yes, it's the very reason I live and breathe," a man dressed in a short grey overcoat finished to a young lady in the back of the bar, gently smiling at her perplexed expression as he turned and made his way towards the exit. The cadence of his footsteps was solid, confident and heavy. The old bar's floorboards creaked ever so slightly under his weight.

"Just where do you think you're goin', pal?" An overweight drunkard slurred, his voice abruptly silencing the ambient babble of the bustling evening bar. Nothing could be heard but the heavy pattering of rain on the skylights looming above the rotting furniture.

The man halted mid-step, sighing softly and snapping his fingers a single time. As he quickly glanced around the room, he could see nothing but the inclined heads and frozen expressions of both the bar's staff and its patrons.

The drunkard swivelled round in his stool and grunted. The sweat on his balding head glistened like an oil slick. He looked expectantly towards the man as he pulled the front of his jeans back up over his bulging gut. After a brief moment of pause, the sober man turned towards his aggressor, his emerald eyes taking on a momentary glint before he lifted his chin and gave a warm smile.

"It's not a matter of thinking, my friend; I know where I'm going."

The rabble-rouser raised his eyebrows, chuckling slightly as he turned to his friends and shared a disbelieving laugh. He then rose from his chair with a smack of his lips after finishing his drink and sauntered over towards the man, a confident swing in his step.

Following close behind were a couple of his friends, light smirks on their faces as their eyes darted along the lone man's exceedingly tall frame. The man removed his overcoat, and with a neat fold, it was draped over a nearby chair.

He looked to be just over six and a half feet tall, somewhere in his later 20s and built like a tank. He had short, dark brown hair that contrasted with his comparatively pale complexion and looked to have been painstakingly styled to perfection, yet showed no signs of having involved any excess of product. His stubble was somewhat short, yet cleanly cut to an even symmetry. He wore a navy blue blazer that was left open, revealing a white t-shirt underneath. He also wore a pair of dark grey suit pants tailored to fit his abundant musculature.

As the group drew closer, the men felt their confidence fade as they saw nothing but warmth in his emerald eyes; they seemed to dance and glow with mirth in the dim light of the bar in the evening, the unadulterated kindness they emitted throwing the men for a loop in light of the nature of their approach.

Being just shy of six feet tall himself, the drunkard had always been proud of his own moderately impressive stature; however, this man simply dwarfed him.

After taking a glance back at his friends, the drunkard looked up without tilting his head and addressed the man with a smirk.

"I own this place, pal. You can't just come in 'ere, drink up and then fuck off without 'paying the toll' to yours truly. Now, I'm not sure I've seen you 'round 'ere before, so you must be new." He leaned in closer to the man. "I'm gonna give you the benefit of the doubt on this'n and assume I didn't 'ear you right..." The smile dropped from his face and he continued in a dangerous, yet slightly drunken, slurring tone, "Now, I'm gonna ask you again... Where exactly do ya think you're goin'?"

The man remained silent for a few seconds, simply peering down at the drunkard with his gentle poker face in tact. Eventually, his limbs began to move. He dusted down the front of his blazer, pulled each of his sleeves taut and smoothed down his hair. He then placed a hand on the drunkard's shoulder, giving it a light squeeze before clearing his throat and leaning down. With their faces now mere inches apart, the man's smile grew slightly as he noticed the drunkard suddenly struggling to meet his gaze.

The room seemingly shrunk with a speed that sucked the drunkard's breath away.

"Before I answer your question," said the man. "Please, let us first become better acquainted with one another! My name is Miles, and I'm pleased to meet you." Miles then pulled back from the drunkard, releasing his shoulder and offering up his hand in a gesture of good will.

The drunkard paused for a moment, eyeing the hand in front of him before reaching his own hand out to greet it. He winced ever so slightly once contact was made, as he could easily have mistaken his own hand for a water balloon.

"You're shaking!" Miles quietly exclaimed in concern as he rubbed the back of the drunkard's hand with his own. "Whatever is the matter? Too much to drink?" Miles's sarcasm ran almost as thick as the spittle dribbling down the back of the drunkard's throat.

The drunkard spluttered for a moment, a belated breath having sucked his accumulated mucus down the wrong pipe. "Y-Yeah, I've 'ad a few... Right, lads?" The drunkard asked, turning back to his companions with a nervous smile. The two grunts mumbled a response along the lines of agreement and then fell back into silence. Miles looked into their eyes in turn for a few moments, before he let out a quiet hum of contentment and turned his attention back to the drunkard.

"I'm sorry; I didn't quite catch your name?" Miles questioned as he continued to grip the drunkard's hand.

"Jarvis... I'm Jarvis, a-and this is Landon and Ethan..." The drunkard trailed off, as he noticed the grip on his hand somehow tighten considerably more. Suddenly, his arm was almost shaken out of its socket when Miles barked into laughter. After a few moments, he feigned wiping away tears and then settled back down.

"Well, Jarvis - good show, my friend! You're quite the entertainer!" Miles commended as he slapped Jarvis on the back. Jarvis buckled briefly before quickly righting himself.

"Oh, yes, your question. I'll get to that now, Jarvis." Miles's smooth, deep voice rumbled. It immediately lost all joviality, sending chills down Jarvis' spine; it was like the most sickly sweet of sticky caramel, yet it burned scolding hot as it entered his ears and slowly reverberated throughout his entire being. Jarvis was rooted in place, the substance rapidly hardening in his veins.

Every patron in the bar now bated their breath in anticipation of Miles's response. However, Jarvis intervened before he could do so.

"O-Oh, yeah! Never mind the question, mate; the moment's passed, anyway..." Jarvis sputtered. He began trying to tug his hand away from the monster standing before him. In response to his squirming, Miles pulled him closer with his arm, not taking his eyes away from those of Jarvis for even a moment as he did so.

Miles's deadpan expression quickly morphed back into a smile after a minuscule moment of pulling, the whole ordeal lasting but a mere second. That moment had been a private one, like an undressing of the soul, leaving all laid bare between them. Miles barked out in laughter once again and jerked Jarvis into a brief, yet bone-crushing embrace, literally yanking him out of his thoughts.

"Ah, well isn't that a shame?! I tell you what... How about I buy you chaps a drink? Eh? Come on, let's drink up!" Finally releasing Jarvis, Miles folded his arms behind his back with one hand clasping the other, before walking casually over to the bar and taking a seat on one of the stools. He beckoned Jarvis and his cronies to join him with an inviting smile.

Gradually, the regular babble of the bar returned.

Jarvis turned away and rubbed his hand once it had finally been released, mouthing his curses with a wince. His friend tapped him on the shoulder and nodded towards Miles, urgency written across his features. Eventually, Jarvis took slow, hesitant steps towards Miles. He glanced at his friends as the trio joined Miles at the bar.

"So, Jarvis," said Miles, "tell me a little bit about yourself. I assume you are a regular here?"

Jarvis felt his nerves begin to settle. "Yeah, I'm pretty well known 'round these parts... I practically own this pub!" Jarvis boasted, pulling back his shoulders with a chuckle.

"Yes, you already said that. It must be nice having that kind of community spirit, I suppose. Although, it must be quite the odd spirit, considering how everyone reacted to you earlier, eh?" Miles winked as he elbowed Jarvis in the side playfully with a chuckle; the drunkard snorted, prompting he and his friends to laugh nervously along with Miles.

"Ha! W-Well, I wouldn't know... What about you, lads?" Jarvis signalled his friends out of their silence.

"Mmm..." The short, tan man mumbled.

"I dunno..." said the other rotund man, his hands tucked in his pockets.

Looking betrayed, Jarvis chose to turn his back on his friends.

As though Jarvis's friends had never spoken, Miles glared at Jarvis and muttered, "Is that right...?"

Silence overtook the group as Miles continued to stare at Jarvis, waiting for a reply. Jarvis simply sat still, his gaze fixated upon the knotted bar surface in front of him. He couldn't help but notice the size of Miles's hand, resting mere inches away from his own. Phantom pain began to tickle his pinky finger in anticipation, his brain tricking him into expecting Miles's hand to leap and bite him like a tarantula. Eventually, Miles mercifully broke the tension.

"Hmm, I suppose it doesn't matter. Have you lived in Leeds all your life?" Miles questioned.

"Well, I've been comin' to this pub since I was old enough to drink," Jarvis replied, letting loose a breath he didn't know he was holding. "How 'bout yourself? You don't sound like you're from 'round these parts."

"Oh, well, you'd be correct in assuming that." Miles let loose a short, hollow laugh. "I was born and raised in Cambridge and lived there most of my life. I moved here a few years ago for a... Change of pace, you could say," Miles said with a chuckle, before continuing in a tone cold enough to freeze over the sun, "however, I do believe I very specifically asked if you have lived here for your entire life - not how long you have been coming to this pub."

Silence reigned once again in the moments that followed, and Jarvis looked like he was close to losing his dinner. Miles's smile had not wavered. He licked his lips for a moment and waved down the bartender, offering up a twenty pound note. "Four Red Stags, please. Straight. And would you please be so kind as to fetch me a new beer mat; some cretin has deemed it necessary to damage this one."

Jarvis let out a weak laugh at Miles's comment, which was swiftly snuffed into a pathetic whimper by a curious sideways glance from Miles. After a few moments of feeling like a puppy being smothered by a pillow, Jarvis was relieved to see their drinks had arrived.

Jarvis laughed and whimsically returned Miles's slap to his back once the drinks and a new beer mat were placed down in front of them. "I thought we just said I've 'ad too much to drink, mate? Fuckin' Red Stags?! Ha!"

Miles's smile disappeared immediately, his lips forming into a thin line as he turned away from Jarvis and began to fiddle with his fresh beer mat in an attempt to place it directly in the center of the bar surface. Jarvis immediately caught himself and continued, "B-But of course, I'd never say no to a hearty drink, pal! Heh... Cheers to new friends!"

Jarvis brought his glass to his friends', clinking them together in succession. Upon offering it to Miles, Jarvis very quickly assumed the role of an overweight Statue of Liberty.

Miles remained in silence until he finally seemed satisfied with the placement of his mat. He looked back towards Jarvis with a strained, somewhat forlorn smile. "You still haven't answered my question, Jarvis."

Jarvis appeared remorseful as his arm unceremoniously lowered. "Oh, yes, well, uh... I've lived 'ere all me life, yeah."

Miles nodded his head slowly to himself as his eyes betrayed the smallest hint of concern, before giving Jarvis his friendliest smile and softly replying, "Thank you."

Jarvis hastily downed his drink and moved to stand up from his stool. Before he could fully stand up, however, Miles grabbed Jarvis by the shoulder once again, lightly squeezing it and pulling him closer. He leaned past Jarvis's face and spoke directly into his ear.

"I'll see you later."

Jarvis felt a sinking in his chest. It rolled between his ribs, painfully squeezed through his gut and almost yanked him down through the floorboards. He noticed that his friends had already left by this point, and so scurried out himself without another word. He bumped into a young couple on his way out, giving them a brief apology. The couple's expressions were fearful as he bumped into them, but quickly morphed to that of confusion at his apology.

Miles remained seated for a while afterwards, simply enjoying the white noise of the customers' babble. Swirling the liquid in his glass, Miles continued to take small sips of the icy cold beverage as he considered all that had just transpired. He pulled a napkin out of the pocket of his blazer and used it to wipe the bottom of his glass each time he picked it up.

He was surprised, to say the least. It usually takes a little more probing to get under someone's skin, but it seems these men had lived a somewhat sheltered existence in this closed social community. It was unlikely they ever loitered anywhere other than this bar. All it took was for Miles to simply assert that Jarvis was shaking in order to cause him to actually do so. He laughed silently to himself.

Miles finished off the last dregs of his beverage before thoroughly wiping it one final time and setting the glass down in the centre of the beer mat.

"Be rid of that glass, please, bartender; wouldn't want to sodden this beer mat with perspiration." The bartender frowned at his comment. He then swiftly and silently snatched up the glass and took it away, indignantly muttering something once out of earshot.

Folding up his napkin into a neat, triangular shape, Miles replaced it into his pocket and recovered his overcoat. With a wink, he left a tip for the bartender and made his way towards the door. He intended to finish what he started, and there were preparations to be made.

"Spike?! Could you fetch me a few extra quills, please?!"

Twilight Sparkle, Princess of Friendship and the Element of Magic, was sitting at her desk, sorting through the usual paperwork her many commitments demanded of her. A small, purple and green dragon waddled into the room, carrying a bundle of feathered quills in his stubby little arms. "Geez, Twilight... How many of these things do you plan on going through this week?!"

Twilight sighed in exasperation, lowering her head as she levitated the quills out of the drake's arms and onto her desk. "I don't know, Spike; I just have so much work to do at the moment, what with my princess duties, friendship school duties... Not to mention, my own personal projects..."

Spike looked dejected, crossing his arms and looking away from the mare. "But you said we would go to the spa together today..."

"I know, Spike, I'm sorry..." she said.

Spike unfolded his arms and stood with a claw to his lips in thought. "Well, I can't just go without you. Why not just take a break from the work?" Twilight avoided eye contact, folding up her ears as she pretended to go back to work. "Come on, Twilight, please!" The little drake begged, dramatically dropping to his knees and suppressing a smirk. He clasped his claws together and shook them at the alicorn princess.

Rolling her eyes, Twilight stood up from her desk and trotted over to her most faithful assistant, daintily patting him on his head with a hoof. "Aaalright, Spike, but only for an hour."

Spike jumped to his feet and pumped his fist in victory. "Yes!" he shouted. "You have no idea how much I need a nice, hot, steamy bubble bath right now..." Spike's eyes glazed with longing while his tongue hung comically out of his mouth.

"Well, let's hurry up and get going. I can't leave my work for too long. I swear, I'm on the cusp of something big with my inter-dimensional teleportation studies! I'll be giving a demonstration for everypony tomorrow morning in the throne room!" Twilight suddenly looked full of life, skipping towards the door with an elated smile plastered across her face.

"Yeah, yeah, sounds amazing, Twilight. Hey, my claws are cramping too, could we get the-" Twilight stopped her skipping and looked over her withers at the young drake, raising an eyebrow. "Heheh, n-never mind..."

Miles was sitting on the bench just outside his shop, simply watching in silence as people passed him by along the pavement and traffic sped through the intersection. It was a gloomy Sunday afternoon, and he wanted nothing more than to relax and prepare himself for the night ahead working on his creation. He had been busy gathering information on his newest friend, Jarvis, and had found him exceedingly simple to track down. As it turns out, it was true that Jarvis was well known amongst the community; while this was concerning, it did not render his plans impossible to accomplish.

Miles was suddenly torn from his thoughts by a man sitting down next to him on the bench. The man had greasy, overgrown hair and a long, scraggly beard that had the remnants of his previous meal interwoven within its bristly depths. He wore patchy, brown clothes that were battered and torn from use. His woollen hat looked almost wet and soggy as it threatened to fall from its perch on his head at any moment.

"Hey there, friend... Ya mind if'n I set up shop 'ere?" The man's voice was hoarse and grating, like an overused chew toy. Miles frowned slightly to himself before turning to face the man and giving him a kind smile.

"Good afternoon, sir. Of course you may sit here; in fact, this is my shop," Miles gestured to the carpentry shop behind them, which had a banner running along the top of the display window that read, 'Miles's Hack and Saw', "but, if you were to set up shop here too, we might have an issue on our hands!" Miles joked, looking curiously towards the man.

"Oh, no, I meant jus' settin' this here hat on the pavement..." Miles watched as the man set his hat down like a bowl on the ground, before leaning forwards and looking up at the people as they passed by.

Miles continued to glare at the man, shuffling slightly in his seat and smacking his lips together in irritation. "You know, I just told you this is my shop," he said. The man turned to him, looking slightly taken aback by Miles's aggressive tone.

"I-I meant no offence, sir... Ya see, I'm jus' outta the job right now an' I need some way ta get by unt-"

"There are more than enough benches along this street, 'friend'." Miles's face began darkening, as a noticeable vein began popping out on his forehead. The man's tongue tied, jarring him from spouting any kind of response. After a few moments of silence, he finally managed a hesitant grumble.

"W-Well, this 'ere's the traffic junction... it's the best place to, uh..." The man awkwardly cleared his throat, struggling to voice his thought in full. Miles snapped his fingers once while chuckling softly and nudging the man in the side.

"I'm only kidding, pal. Why would I care what you do on a public pavement? I tell you what: let's start over, Eh? My name's Miles."

The man appeared unconvinced, simply leaning away from Miles and preparing to dash. Miles looked at the man expectantly, waiting with patience until he finally spoke up. "I think I'll jus' be goin' now..." said the man. As he picked up his hat and made to stand up, Miles reached over and rested a hand on his shoulder.

"Hang on there, pal. Listen: I'm sorry, I was only joking with you. What's your name?"

The man hesitated for a moment, before allowing himself to be gently pushed back down into his seat. "I'm Malcolm..."

"Well, it's a pleasure to meet you, Malcolm. Say, you must be hungry. What would you say to a free meal on me, by way of apology?" Miles smiled at Malcolm, patting him on the back and standing up before offering him a hand. Malcolm accepted it, climbing to his feet and looking up at Miles.

Miles looked over towards his shop and pointed a thumb in its direction. "My shop is closed for today, but I actually live here, too. Come on, let's run along inside and I'll put us some coffee on." Miles walked through the entrance door of his shop, stopping and holding it open for Malcolm once he was inside. The gentle jingle of the door's bell dulled Malcolm's apprehension somewhat. He glanced left and right, hesitating slightly before finally making for the door. His tattered boots crossed the threshold of the entryway, eliciting a gentle chuckle from Miles as he slowly closed the door, sealing them both inside. Miles clinked the lock into place, firmly checking the handle to ensure it was sealed tight. Malcolm looked around, feeling slightly uncomfortable in the dark gloom of the workshop.

Nothing could be heard but the heavy thud of Miles's footsteps as he made his way towards Malcolm, the noise barraging Malcolm's ears like a train approaching from the depths of a dark tunnel. Miles's steps ceased suddenly, his umbral silhouette towering over that of the considerably smaller man. The next few seconds crawled by like minutes as Malcolm's sensory deprivation began to take its toll. A fly helplessly tangled in a spider's web.

However, Miles soon reached over towards the wall on his left, flicking a switch and ending their shadow-play as quickly as it had begun. Malcolm blinked as his eyes re-adjusted to the light, yet still found himself unable to move a muscle. Miles took his eyes away from Malcolm and made his way over to the back of the tidy workshop. He rested his hand upon a large device, before turning and addressing Malcolm with a brief clearing of his throat.

"Do you know what this is, Malcolm?" Miles began strumming his fingers along its smooth, curved surface.

"Uh... No, I don't."

Miles grinned impishly, reaching down to flick a switch on the device, causing it to roar to life. "This is a simple lathe, and it's used to warp, cut and change materials in several ways..." Miles glanced up at Malcolm and noticed his distracted expression. "Alright, I'll cut to the chase: I installed this device with the intention of it aiding me in creation. We can't get by in life without making something of it, or in this case, with it. Do you see what I'm saying?"

Malcolm was unresponsive, watching with vague interest as Miles continued to monologue. "My point is, I've taken something bland and uninteresting, such as a slab of wood or metal, and turned it into something new. All it took was a little time and effort." Miles looked into Malcolm's eyes for a moment, before sighing softly in defeat and nonchalantly adding, "I didn't necessarily need a lathe for it; that's simply one of many avenues to that same end."

"Okay... So yer a carpenter. Do ya dabble in anythin' else?" Miles winced and gave a slightly more agitated sigh, quickly switching off the lathe.

"Well, I was trained as an engineer back in London, but decided to move over here a few years ago to pursue a career in carpentry. My only work is in the manufacturing of materials." Malcolm looked mostly uninterested, the small talk pleasantries of his question having rolled off his tongue like clockwork.

"Yea, okay... So, ya said somethin' about food...?" Malcolm said with a rise in pitch. the prospect of eating a decent meal recklessly barged its way to the forefront of his mind.

"Ah, yes, food. Of course," Miles replied. He turned his back to Malcolm and walked towards a door in the back of the workshop. After reaching the doorway, Miles looked back to see that Malcolm hadn't moved an inch, and was instead simply staring anxiously in his direction. "Well? Are you coming?"

As if broken out of a trance, Malcolm jumped in place before meeting Miles's gaze with his own. "Through there...?"

Miles looked to his left and right, chuckling slightly. "Well, where else would we be going? Do you see any other doors around here?" Malcolm briefly looked back over his shoulder towards the front door of the workshop, before lowering his head and clutching his stomach as it growled in protest. Miles watched Malcolm's turmoil with keen interest, casually rubbing at his stubble. Malcolm, with his mind now set, eventually made his way to Miles's side, waiting for him to take the lead.

"O-Of course..."

Miles chuckled, noticing Malcolm visibly bristle as he did so.

"This way. Age before beauty," said Miles, jovially. He ushered Malcolm down the stairs behind his workshop and deeper into his home. Malcolm could swear the descending passageway looked like a spiralling web for a moment before being ripped back to his senses by the clunking of the door behind him, followed by the soft click of another lock.

Twilight and Spike arrived at the Ponyville Day Spa just as Celestia's golden sun reached its peak in the glittering summer's day sky. Twilight appeared confused as she scanned the interior of the spa reception, which was almost completely empty, save for a few locals.

"Huh... I'm honestly quite surprised that there are so few ponies in here on a day like this."

Spike shrugged before scurrying off towards Aloe on reception. "Two, please! For the full- oomph" Twilight roughly barged him out of the way before addressing Aloe herself with a slightly embarrassed tone.

"Hey, Aloe, I hope you're doing well on this fine shimmering day! Ehehe... C-Could we please get two for the body massage and bubble bath steam room, as well as a manicure for Spike?"

Aloe turned away from Twilight's cringing grin for a moment, glancing awkwardly down at Spike. After clearing her throat, she addressed Twilight's request. "Y-Yes, of course, darling, anything for our resident princess! Please see yourselves down the hall and to your right where my sister will take you through for your treatment."

Twilight muttered her thanks before pushing Spike back to his claws with her nose and hurrying down the hall.

Miles sawed away diligently, yet with practiced grace, yanking away at the last of it as he felt sinews pop and tear before finally, it gave way and snapped off with a thunk as it hit the floor. He tried his best to ignore the muffled cries, as they were distracting him from his work.

"Can you please just be quiet for a moment?!" Miles bellowed, sending spittle hurtling down towards his captive. He took a brief breath and set his features, his lips forming a thin line as he worked on regaining his composure. "This wasn't meant for you, but I'm giving you the honour of taking it out for a test drive. Now, cease your squirming and crying so I can concentrate."

The cries swiftly died down into whimpers and fevered breathing, as Malcolm struggled against his bonds, eyeing the wooden contraption Miles was working on with panic and fear. "You know, having a panic attack will get you nowhere, here. I'm giving you a gift."

Miles began to saw through yet another wooden limb, slowly but surely working on his creation. He was once again disturbed from his work as he began to hear thuds coming from the front door of his workshop upstairs. He froze in place for a moment, listening intently. He then hung his saw back in its designated spot on the wall and rolled up his sleeves, glancing down at Malcolm for a moment. He wrung his hands and grabbed a hammer off the tool rack. He then made for the door leading back to the workshop. "You stay right there, Malcolm. I'll be back to tend to you very soon."

Malcolm continued to struggle before falling over to lay on his side. Glancing around the brightly lit basement, Malcolm could see nothing of interest to aid an escape. Unfortunately for him, Miles's basement area was just as spotlessly tidy as his workshop; he could not reach any of the tools hanging from the walls to free his bonds, as his hands and legs were tied. Malcolm began to feel his malnutrition and the shock from his panic attack begin to take their belated toll on his scrawny body, feeling light as a feather in the wind. He simply continued to lie there, his eyes dull and lifeless, wishing nothing more than for death to snatch him away from this place before his tormentor returned.

Malcolm was torn from his stupor by some commotion coming from the workshop upstairs. He bolted up with a start as the doorway to the basement flung open and a large man came hurtling down the stairs at alarming speed, landing like a rag-doll on the solid, cemented floor of the basement. The man was out cold.

"Come on, Twilight... You were really looking forward to this yesterday!" Spike and Twilight were standing in the throne room of her Friendship Castle, with an anxious and agitated Twilight trotting back and forth in front of a concerned Spike, trying to calm her nerves.

"Yes, Spike, but I can't help being nervous!" Twilight blurted. "I mean, what if the princesses don't like it? What if my friends get hurt? Oh, I can't believe we have to rely on chaos magic to perform this demonstration..." Twilight looked as though she was about to break down into tears.

"It can't be helped, Twilight, the spell's still in early stages, right? You gotta rely on Discord's magic to even try! It's not like we're trying any kind of risky spell that could hurt somepony; it's just teleportation, dude..."

"Did you not hear me?!" Twilight snapped, causing Spike to jump in place. "Discord's magic is chaos magic! It could do literally anything!" Twilight danced in place, her pupils shrinking as her hair became rugged and her voice coarse as sand. "Also, I'm not a dude! You should know this." Spike was alarmed, as he knew what she was like when she got like this.

Spike said, "Please, Twilight, just calm down! I'm sure Discord is perfectly capable of controlling his own magic. There will literally be three of the most powerful beings in the whole world gathered in one room helping this go smoothly. You have nothin' to worry about, Twi." Spike's voice gradually became soft and reassuring as he saw Twilight visibly relaxing at his words.

Twilight breathed in slowly, bringing her hoof to her chest before extending it as she let that breath go. "Okay, Spike... I can do this."

As if on cue, the door to the throne room burst open and her intended guests made their appearance. Starlight, Pinkie Pie, Applejack, Rarity, and the two diarch sisters came through to greet Twilight, while Discord and Rainbow Dash appeared to be taunting each other as Fluttershy tried to settle them down to no avail. Celestia was the first to address Twilight.

"Good morning, Twilight, Spike," Celestia hummed in her powerful, motherly tone. She leaned down to nuzzle Twilight. "I must admit I am quite excited to see how this little experiment of yours will go, my little student."

"Thankyou, Princess. I really hope-" she was cut off as Rainbow flew over to the pair, mumbling through a zipper closed across her lips; she pointed to it and then towards Discord with her hooves. Discord began whistling and kicking at pebbles that formed on the ground. Each one that landed after being kicked snapped upwards with a pop, much to the delight of the present pink menace.

"Ooooh! Free popcorn! Woohoo!" Pinkie immediately bounded over and began catching them in her mouth one-by-one, her tongue flopping around like a sweltering dog. Discord quickly began chuckling, kicking the popcorn in as many directions as he could to overwhelm the pink whirlwind. Fluttershy began hiding her head in embarrassment at her friends' behaviour.

Twilight cleared her throat briefly before continuing, choosing to ignore Rainbow's continued frustrated grumbles, "I really hope to achieve something big here today, Princess. If inter-dimensional travel could be possible with our magic, then I thoroughly believe anything could." Twilight beamed, pride lacing her voice albeit with a slight wobble.

Princess Celestia replied, "Well, we shall see about that, Twilight. I think your immediate focus should be in attempting to rid us of the need for chaos magic when casting this spell, depending on the results of today's experiment." She glanced over towards Discord, who put a claw to his chest in mock offence. "No offence, Discord."

Discord closed his eyes and tilted his chin before commenting. "Oh, please, carry on! Don't mind me. I'm not even here." Discord snapped his fingers, disappearing for a moment before poking out of Celestia's ear and patting the alicorn on the cheek. Celestia let out an uncouth yelping noise before righting herself and looking off into the distance ahead with a glare that could make a manticore cry.

Another snap rang out and Discord reappeared next to Celestia, patting her daintily on the withers and floating away, as though nothing at all had happened.

Twilight noticed Celestia was still frozen solid, only to be broken out of her trance when Pinkie began giggling at Discord juggling his own eyeballs to pass the time. Applejack was currently trying to keep Rainbow calm on the other side of the room, who was zipping around with the zipper over her mouth. Starlight, Luna and Rarity were glaring at Discord in hopes that he might catch fire.

Celestia's eye twitched as she did her best to continue in her regal tone, "I believe that your findings today could potentially make some-" Celestia was interrupted once again as yet another snap beside her resulted in her horn and mane being pulled from her body by Discord, who, using her horn as a handle, began eating her mane like an exceedingly colourful batch of cotton candy. He attempted to bat away the pink menace as she tried to jump up and snap at his newfound candy.

Celestia observed this and retained her smile, practiced to perfection over millennia. Upon closer inspection, though, Princess Luna noticed her sister's mane begin to char and flicker.

"Sister, please, calm down," interjected Princess Luna. "We-I understand that Discord is irritating, but please try to ignore him so that we can proceed with the demonstration. Poor Twilight must be anxious to show us what she's come up with, and we're keeping her waiting." Luna looked over at Twilight with a smile and a wink, the former of which was immediately mirrored in the younger princess's features. Celestia sighed and turned to Discord.

"I'm sorry if I offended you, Discord. May I please have my body parts back?" she said.

This drew a laugh from the draconequus. He said, "Oh, my dear Celestia, I was just kidding around. Of course I'm not 'offended'! Honestly, do you really think me so petty?" He snapped his fingers with a smirk, returning Celestia's horn and mane to how they once were. Rainbow's mouth was also finally freed, resulting in the pegasus taking in deep, grateful breaths. Applejack finally caught up with her and began patting the rainbow mare's back, but not without a few dirty glances at Discord.

Turning back to Twilight, Celestia nodded towards the side of the room with a gentle smile, where Twilight had prepared a space for the performance of the spell. Twilight cleared her voice and puffed up her little chest, trying her best to appear professional as she led the group over to the testing area. Celestia couldn't help but chuckle.

Twilight said, "So, as you are all aware. I have been working on a very 'special' spell of sorts: the kind of spell that will hopefully allow controlled inter-dimensional travel using pony-based magic. Discord is already capable of such travel; however, I am looking for a way us ponies can mirror his successes." Discord scoffed from across the room, causing Twilight's tail to swat at the air before continuing. "For this demonstration, we will require his help to activate the spell. The key thing to take away from this is that the basis for the spell-casting is pony magic," Twilight looked over at Discord for a moment, waiting for an affirming nod from the draconequus before continuing, "and I will need the most magically able ponies in the room to gather around this apple."

Twilight signalled down to the lone apple sitting in the clearing. "Discord, would you please be so kind as to put a tracking spell on this apple? As in, one that can still be traced across dimensions?"

"But of course, Twilight." Discord snapped his talons, and although nothing appeared to have changed, everypony trusted that he had done as asked.

"Now, we are going to be attempting to send this apple across dimensions. We don't particularly care about where, so long as it's not just teleported elsewhere in our current dimension. Discord, we have to be careful to only send this apple elsewhere, and not bring anything back from the other side. Do you understand? I need you to focus on controlling your chaotic magic as best you can."

"Oh, please. I've been practicing my magic for eons. I'm perfectly capable of having it do as I intend." Discord huffed, crossing his arms impatiently.

Twilight looked unsure for a moment, before quickly shaking her head and turning her attention to the rest of the group. "Starlight, Princess Celestia, Princess Luna, you three circle around the apple with me and ready your horns to blast it with as much teleportation magic as you can muster. I will work on directing that magic for our intended purpose." The three of them nodded, readying their horns as they looked to Twilight for the signal to go. "Discord, you stay here and just give the apple a little influx of chaos magic when I say so. We only need a little, as the magic from Celestia, Luna and Starlight will do most of the heavy lifting. Understood?"

"Yes, yes. Get on with it," said Discord.

"And the rest of you please stand over on the other side of the room and watch from a safe distance. That includes you, Spike." Twilight looked down at the little dragon by her side who ruffled his arms in disappointment.

"Fine..." He waddled over to the other side of the room with the others and turned to watch from afar.

"Okay, girls, on three." Twilight began breathing heavily, wiping her brow as her nerves began to make a comeback, "One... Two... Three!" The apple was suddenly blasted by a massive amount of magic, causing it to lift slightly in the air. With a frown, Discord noticed Fluttershy looking frightened on the other side of the room. He did not hear the frantic calls from Twilight until a moment after the fact.

"Discord, now! Now!!!" she shouted.

"O-Oh, yes, right..." Discord snapped his talons and blasted his intended target, still seeming somewhat distracted.

There was a sudden, bright flash of light, and a blast of force from the focal point of magic sent everypony bar Discord reeling, cutting off all magic output. The light seemed to linger for a moment, until the room grew silent.

Twilight was the first to recover, her jaw going slack and her eyes going wide as she gawked at where the apple once was.

Malcolm looked bemused as the man beside him remained unmoving. He heard further commotion coming from upstairs, before noticing that the man had been holding a knife. Suddenly, Malcolm felt a resurgence of life, leaping forward to wriggle on his belly towards the blade. Just as he got his hands on it, however, another man came flying down the stairs and landed on the crook of his neck, which made a loud, muffled crunching sound before he also lay still. Malcolm noticed that this man had been holding a crowbar, but quickly dismissed the event and went to working on his bonds. Miles began walking down the stairs, holding yet another man in front of him. This one was struggling, preventing himself from being tossed down the stairs, yet being unable to prevent Miles from pushing him deeper.

"Pardon my language, but damn. I'll admit, I did not expect this," Miles grunted, shoving the man once more, causing him to fall flat on his back at the base of the stairs. "I honestly didn't expect you to actually come at me. I guess I didn't give you enough credit; you do have some balls on you! For now." Miles leaned down and began wiping his blood-soaked hands on the man's shirt.

"F-Fuck you, pal! You disrespected me in me own pub!" The man replied, sounding winded and shaky, yet resilient.

Miles laughed, almost giggling for a moment as he grabbed the man by his shirt and lifted him to his feet. "Oh, come now, Jarvis. Do you understand how much of a man-child you sound right now? You know, I did just say you have some balls, but bringing five men to break down my door and assault me in the night? Now, that's certainly somewhat cowardly, I must admit."

"I 'ave much more than that, too, ya cunt!" Jarvis spat in Miles's face as he was being manhandled. "Just you wait! If I don't show up in that pub tonight, you'll 'ave the whole fuckin' town crashing down yer door!"

Miles turned his attention away from Jarvis for a moment and looked over at Malcolm with a smile, wiping away Jarvis's spit from his face. Miles said, "Apologies in advance, Malcolm; I know I promised you a run of my new project before anyone else, but it seems circumstances have changed. You'll have to wait your turn." Finally, Malcolm broke free from the bonds on his hands, but held them behind his back until he was no longer the subject of Miles's attention. Once Miles turned back to Jarvis, Malcolm began subtly hacking away at his leg bonds with the knife.

Jarvis threw a wild punch at Miles, who parried it with his forearm and thrust his opposing fist into the man's flabby stomach, causing him to lurch into the air for a moment before crumpling into a hunch on the floor. Jarvis was having trouble breathing - he frantically coughed and spluttered. Miles swung the hammer down to shatter Jarvis's ankle. Jarvis screamed in agony.

To his horror, his troubles only worsened as he felt an arm wrap around his neck and squeeze. In a panic, his legs shot out in front of him and began flailing. He brought his hands up to the arm around his neck and attempted to tear it away, desperately. Miles locked his grip by pulling his wrist with his other arm, imprisoning Jarvis in a vice as he continued to squeeze. He was careful to only cut off Jarvis's blood supply so he would pass out, and not cut off his breathing completely and accidentally kill his victim early. He wasn't finished with him yet.

Miles felt Jarvis go limp and loosened his grip, the drunkard's body crumpling to the ground like a rotten sack of potatoes.

Snap!

Miles quickly spun around to see Malcolm rush for the stairs. Miles swung his arm with all his strength towards Malcolm's neck, who noticed this too late and tried to dodge to the left, ending up being grazed across the cheek instead by Miles's hand. However, even with a slight graze, the force of the swing racked Malcolm's eyeballs through his head like pinballs.

Dazed, Malcolm swung the knife at Miles, who dodged backwards and then grabbed Malcolm's wrist, controlling the blade arm. Miles felt someone grab at his ankle as he grappled briefly with Malcolm, and looked down to see the first man he threw down the stairs had come to and was trying to pull him over. It seemed the man's legs were broken, or at the very least not working properly in his dazed state.

"Oh, for goodness' sake..." Miles dropped his hammer and slammed Malcolm's head against the wall behind it with his palm, instantly knocking the man out cold. He then grabbed the knife from Malcolm and knelt down to the man holding his ankle. With a massive grin plastered across his face, Miles grabbed the man's hand and began hacking and sawing at his wrist. He closed his eyes and listened to the man's screams with gleeful excitement. The man fruitlessly tried to prize Miles's hand away and stop the agonisingly slow dismemberment.

Suddenly, Miles's smile disappeared, as he felt a wave of nausea overcome his body. A blinding white light enveloped him and he stood upright, clutching his hands to his head. The knife fell to the concrete with a clatter. Nausea was quickly replaced by a searing fire that coursed through his veins in a blazing inferno; yet, his skin felt so unbelievably cold. Miles roared in agony, his body blazing like a bonfire in the bite of a freezing winter evening.

Then, as suddenly as it had started, it was all over. Miles unclenched his eyes and observed the world around him, doing his best to control his breathing after that agonising experience. This did not look at all like his basement. The walls glistened, and the room was enormous.

He heard a collective gasp around him. A tiny purple and green creature with wings on the other side of the room pointed at him and screamed.

"M-M-Monster!!!"

Author's Note

Well, after working on this for over a year, it's finally here. The number of re-writes this went through is inordinate.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy it so far. I plan on this story being a pretty long one. I decided to try my hand at writing my own original character, in particular my own villain.

I haven't forgotten about An Unprecedented Advancement. I promise I'll be releasing more for that story; I've just been very busy trying to perfect the opening chapter of this one.

Kind regards,

Nito

P.S. I don't consider Equestria Girls to be canon. Just a personal preference.

29/09/2024 - Chapter touched up and polished, with some small rewrites.