The Moon's Knight (or Luna's Lunatic)

by RustDust

Rating: teen
Tags: Profanity, Violence, Princess Celestia, Crossover, Human, Princess Luna, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Rarity, Adventure
Length: 14067

Marc Spector is Moon Knight. Protector of travelers of night and the avatar of the Egyptian god Khonshu. Khonshu lends him to Luna.

Marc Spector is Moon Knight. Protector of travelers of night and the avatar of the Egyptian god Khonshu. But when trouble starts brewing in Equestria, Khonshu must lend his warrior to another Moon god, Princess Luna. Both are broken in their own yet similar ways. Can they get along?

Marvel's Moon Knight and MLP Crossover

Cover Art is by Declan Shalvey

Published 2019-08-09 09:30:01 UTC
Last updated 2019-09-02 03:16:31 UTC

1 - Meeting of the Moons

Meeting of the Moons

Back when Celestia and Luna ruled together, Luna grew increasingly more envious and resentful of her sister. Her sister was revered for the day she worked to create. Ponies would be able to work and play during the time the sun shone on Equestria, but come night were tired and ready to rest. Not only did ponies not appreciate Luna’s night; they were afraid of it. The night became regarded as a time to be feared as monsters and misfits made came out to prey on the innocent. And as people feared the night, they too feared Luna. This culminated in her transformation into the dark being known as Nightmare Moon.

Princess Luna became Nightmare Moon; a wicked pony that sought to bring about an endless night over all of Equestria. This is what the history books say. Luna remembers things a little differently.

Luna remembers the fear and distain ponies had for her and her night, but she also remembers having one friend who empathized with her feelings. This friend gave Luna confidence in herself and promised that with their help Luna would become just as loved and respected as her sister Celestia if not more.

Luna doesn’t remember much of what happened after that. She remembers bits and pieces of doing some terrible things, but details eluded her. What Luna does remember is a vast, black void. The feeling of being everywhere and nowhere. The feeling of weightlessness. The emptiness of it all. The silence.

Luna doesn’t remember all of her time as Nightmare Moon, but she does remember her time as the Mare in the Moon.

All of it.

1000 years of…

...Nothing.

“Luna?” Celestia meekly called out again, slightly louder.

“Huh!? Wha-um wh-what is it, dear sister?” Luna asked back with trepidation, looking away from the window towards the door. She wasn't permitted outside on the balcony yet. "For her protection," is how Celestia put it.

“I was just wondering if you’d like to come out to join me for some dinner,” Celestia said softly.

Tensions were high between the sisters since Luna’s return, so Celestia had been taking every chance she could to get Luna involved and out of her room. Appearances at parties, meeting dignitaries, and eating together were the best Celestia could get Luna to do due to how busy she was. It seemed to work for a time, but Luna started doing less and less until it got to the point where she would hardly come out of her room. On reflection, Celestia figured Luna was forcing herself to go along with Celestia’s plans for her sake since she never seemed comfortable with what was going on around her. Celestia wished she could do more for her sister, but she didn’t want to make her more uncomfortable or drive her away.

“Um, n-no thank you. I’m… not very hungry, I’m sorry,” was Luna’s response. Alicorns could go a long time without eating, but this has been Luna’s response for the past few weeks.

“Oh no, that’s okay. I’ll just have one of the maids leave the food outside your door. Goodnight, Luna.”

“Goodnight, sister.”

Celestia turned to walk down the hallway. She kept her ears perked just in case Luna had anything to say to her before she left, but she didn’t. Just before turning the corner, Celestia looked back at the door to Luna’s room wistfully before heading off.

The truth was Luna did want to call out to her sister but couldn’t find the words. Luna loved her sister. However, she was also scared of her. For her entire banishment, Luna went back and forth through every type of feeling she had for her sister, Celestia. Luna hated Celestia for what she did, but she loved her as she did what she had to do to save Equestria. Celestia could’ve killed her instead, but was her banishment meant as a mercy for possible redemption in the future or as torture for the rest of time? Did Celestia somehow implant the memories of her doing those terrible things and convinced the rest of Equestria that Luna was evil during the past thousand years?

Luna was torn. On the one hoof, Celestia was the one who put Luna through a thousand years of isolation, but on the other, Celestia was also the only pony Luna still knew and loved from before her banishment. The one pony Luna felt she could love and trust was also the one she feared angering the most. In her heart, Luna still loved her sister, but her mind had so many thoughts and fears regarding her. She wouldn’t dare talk to Celestia about it either for fear of upsetting her.

And then there was Luna’s “friend.”

Luna was told this so-called friend was the malicious force that transformed her into Nightmare Moon, but she could only trust the word of her sister and the history books – books that Celestia would’ve corroborated on. Luna did trust her sister, Celestia, but couldn’t shake the feeling of emptiness left by their friend’s absence. Back before her banishment, this friend was the only one Luna could confide in with her woes. To be told that they were merely using Luna for their benefit hurt, and Luna was unsure who to trust.

“What should I do?” Luna whispered to herself as she lay underneath the covers of her bed. Her room was the same as she left it a thousand years ago, even cleaner in fact – Celestia must have ordered it to be cleaned before Luna arrived.

“You should go out there and tell Celestia you’d love to have dinner with her,” Luna responded.

“Nay! What thee shouldst doth is march down thither and giveth her a piece of thy mind!” Luna objected.

“Please, use your inside voices. The guards or servants will start more rumors about how I’m crazy,” Luna begged.

“You are crazy,” a myriad of voices answered.

Luna sighed. She counted her lucky stars that none of the rumors seemed to reach Celestia; that or Celestia didn’t let on that she knew about them. In an effort to keep some semblance of sanity during her... sabbatical, Luna created many different personalities during her time on the Moon. Some are mirror reflections of herself while others were different ponies entirely. After a while she lost track of the voices in her head.

“Please stop, I just want to be alone right now,” Luna again pleaded.

“No, you don’t. You spent a thousand years alone. If you really wanted to be alone, we wouldn’t be here,” was the callous answer.

“Please…”

“Without us, you’d be a quivering mess of a mare. Maybe it’d be for the best if we did leave.”

“We’d never leave you, don’t listen to her.”

“You need us.”

“No you don’t”

“Stop…” Luna shut her eyes.

“Give in.”

“Let go.”

Luna curled in her bed.

“Forgive her.”

"Run away!"

“Revenge.”

Luna trembled under the weight of it all.

“Quit.”

"Sleep."

“Die.”

“STOP!” Luna thundered.

…

...

“… Are- are they gone?”

“For the moment,” a new voice answered. “It was getting awfully loud in here.”

Luna opened her eyes, only to be met with a black void, all too familiar to her.

“Where am I! Wh-who are you?! I-is it you?” Luna asked hopefully. “From before?”

Suddenly the void filled with stars, not of Luna’s doing. Unlike the feeling of intangibility from before, Luna could still see she had her body and was standing on some false floor that stretched into a sea of even more celestial bodies. Then a rectangular doorway formed of pure light appeared before her.

Out from the doorway stepped one of the last figures Luna expected to see. Before her was a bipedal figure dressed in a stark white three-piece suit. The way the light bounced off and bent around it made it appear ethereal, like a radiant beacon that outshone even the sun. In place of a head was the skull of a bird.

Then the figure spoke with a slight echoey rasp that revealed eons of wisdom and understanding beyond Luna’s comprehension.

“Greetings, Princess Luna. I am Khonshu.”

“Khonshu?”

“I am what can be considered your counterpart back in my dimension. I reign over the Moon there, and I have come bearing grave tidings,” Khonshu softly explained in his methodical and spectral speech.

“...What kind of news?” Luna asked, skeptical of the whole situation. This was possibly another trick of her mind.

“Your world is in danger. Your Moon is infected. And you are the only one with the power to stop it.”

“What? Infected? How so? What kind of infection?”

“I do not know what plagues your Moon, nor for how long. What I do know is that its stench of sickness is palpable enough to be felt across dimensions. If left unchecked, it may have catastrophic consequences not just for your world, but all worlds.”

“What? B-but I can’t fix it! I haven’t had power over the Moon for a thousand years! Even now my sister is the one who governs it; ask her for help! Please, I’m not ready for this kind of responsibility so soon, and after my grave mistake years ago I may never be, please, there must be somepony else who can do this!” Luna implored hysterically.

Khonshu was silent a moment before speaking, “Hmm, not ‘somepony’ but perhaps 'someone'.”

“Wh-what?”

“Very well. In order to aid your investigation, I shall send you my avatar.”

“Your… avatar?”

“ Yes. He will aid you in your quest. Now I warn you, he is unhinged, sadistic even, but he always does what he believes is right. It will be up to you to guide him, nurture him, and in turn, he will do the same for you.”

“But… what do you mean unhinged? Sadistic? He sounds as bad as I was! Who is this ‘avatar’ of yours anyway?” Luna questioned, nearly hysteric with the flood of information and feelings.

“His name is Marc Spector.”

“…Mark… Specter…?”

“He may well be as bad as you were. But this you may need. You may learn a thing or two from each other,” Khonshu said.

Khonshu looked at his wrist before sighing. “My time is running short. I must be off. Heed my warning. And take care of him, my… no, your Moon Knight.”

Then with a snap of his digits light rushed outwards blinding Luna until she awoke in her bed. Was it all just a dream? Another figment of Luna’s imagination?

“…Moon Knight…?”

Author's Note

My first fic! Give feedback like corrections, ideas, likes, dislikes, etc.

2 - Moon Lander

Moon Lander

Marc Spector was Moon Knight, Fist of Khonshu. He used to be a few other things as well: a mercenary, a cab driver, a millionaire, and a few different superheroes at one point.

But that’s all behind him now.

After his recent adventure through a mental asylum that called into question who he was, he came to terms with his other selves and forsook Khonshu.

Khonshu, the Egyptian god of the Moon, breathed new life into Marc Spector as he lay dead before his statue in a temple dedicated to him. Since then, when Marc rose and covered himself with the ceremonial shroud covering the statue, he has also been Moon Knight. Until now.

Marc discovered that Khonshu was using him and taking advantage of his already fragmented mind to usurp his body. Marc overcame Khonshu and came to realize an important aspect about himself: he is insane, he is broken, but he doesn’t need Khonshu to make him whole.

Marc gave up the mantle of Moon Knight, but not the goal that once guided him. Now he merely goes by Mr. Knight, a man dedicated to protecting travelers of the night using his wits, contacts, gadgets, and propensity for violence.

The mansion floorboards creaked under Marc Spector's shoes as he slipped off his bloodied mask and traced his way to his favorite chair through the darkness. He was wearing his Moon Knight costume, or what was left of it. Tonight had been particularly eventful if one were to judge by the abundant slashes, rips, tears, scuffs, and bumps decorating Marc’s suit and body. Despite the morning sun casting light on the mansion, the opaque curtains made sure the inside stayed in a perpetual nighttime only lit by a few slivers of light escaping from the edges of the drapes. This was Marc’s usual routine. When he wasn't beating senseless those who would harm the innocent, he would often be found sitting in his living room having discussions with his other selves and occasionally Khonshu.

He didn't have a television, computer, or even a radio; most of his gadgets were in his auto-driving limousine. The mansion was sparsely furnished, and what little he had was covered by white sheets and heavy layers of dust. Between an attic and basement filled to the brim with ancient Egyptian artifacts and forgotten relics either won or bought through fist or fortune was a barren lodging that looked as though it were abandoned for decades.

Marc let out a long-held sigh as he sat on the covered armchair. He didn't mind the shoddy maintenance of the mansion; what he minded was the silence.

On the outside, Marc would be considered a loner. He never confided in anyone other than himself. However, that was much easier when he had other selves to confide in. After sharing a mind with so many others for so long he came to realize how much he relied on them. Now he just sat alone in silence, often for hours at a time.

And then there was Khonshu.

Even before Khonshu’s ultimate betrayal he and Marc were constantly quarreling with one another. Khonshu would harangue Marc often for his inadequacy and insubordination while Marc would tire of Khonshu’s ambiguity, holier-than-thou demeanor, and how disposable he made Marc feel.

But Khonshu pushed it too far this time.

“Why am I still doing this?” Marc questioned himself.

To answer, an unlikely yet familiar voice rings throughout the empty mansion.

“Because you are my son.”

Marc glanced to the opposite chair from him to find a familiar yet unwelcome sight. There sat Khonshu, leg crossed over the other, in his signature off-white suit, cobwebs copiously draped across his slender frame and the chair he sat. The dim lighting made the figure look nearly spectral. Where ordinarily a human head would sit instead was a large crow-skull whose pitch-black eye-sockets eternally bored into Marc.

Marc merely closed his eyes again with a deeper scowl creeping into his features.

“I wasn’t asking you, Khonshu, and I thought I made it clear you weren’t welcome here anymore.”

“In this house or in your mind?” inquired Khonshu. “Because technically, I partially helped pay for this place when you sold my relics,” Khonshu gestured to the room around him with a lazy wave of his hand. “And just look at this place; you still haven’t bothered cleaning. With all this dust I would think you’re trying to make this look like the sand-covered temple I revived you in.”

“Get out,” Marc growled.

“I need your help,” Khonshu flatly answered.

“Not interested. Get out,” Marc said through gritted teeth as his scowl deepened.

“I’ve sensed a disturbance in another dimension that can have catastrophic effects throughout the multiverse. Please, I need you to–“

“Well, I don’t need you!” Mark bellowed. “I’m done being your lackey! If you need help, then get some other sucker to help you! You’ve already tried replacing me plenty of times before! And after what you pulled at the asylum, what makes you think I would ever trust you again?”

“…I’m sorry. It was a test taken too far. I was unable to see the extent of the damage being done to you. Please understand that I have never turned my back on you. Everything I’ve ever done to you has been for your benefit to make you stronger. I’m sorry for not nurturing you more as your father. As you know, there is no room for love or compassion in our line of work, but for what it’s worth, I am proud of you and all that you have accomplished.”

“Too late to try the caring parent approach,” Marc spat.

“I didn’t want to appear before you after what I’ve done to you. I would have been content to aid you from the shadows as you fulfilled our will. However, circumstances have changed.”

“You know I was considering giving up the caped-crusader thing?”

“I know you wouldn’t. You are much too vindictive and stubborn to sit idle as innocents are harmed. And stopping those who would do harm is what I’m here asking you to do.”

“How do I even know you’re real?”

“You don’t. Things may seem even more ludicrous for where I’m about to send you. Just remember to trust what you perceive not merely as what is real, but what is true. Your senses have never lied to you before.”

“So now we’re resorting to cliched ‘believe in yourself’ crap huh?” Marc said followed with a sigh. “So where am I going? What will I be doing and when? Are you gonna keep me in the dark as usual as to what’s going on?”

“I know little more than you, my son. You will be going to another world; one that will test your resolve and sanity. You will meet with their Moon’s keeper and will answer to her authority during your stay. I ask that you be lenient with her as she is young in her duties compared to my own, and like you, she is also broken. As to when you’re leaving: right now.”

“Wha-“ Marc started before his vision began to blur. He attempted to get up from his seat, but his body was rapidly becoming heavy along with his eyelids. Sleep would soon be upon him, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. His last words of defiance to his accursed god rang dully in his own ears as he fell under:

"Fuck you..."

Celestia was beyond glad that Luna was back, but not without equal feelings of apprehension. On the surface, Luna looked to be ridden of the monster that was Nightmare Moon, but Celestia knew that something was off with Luna; she had been around long enough to see the red flags, and she wouldn’t make the same mistake of missing them twice.

Luna was clearly uneasy around other ponies, especially her. She was always more reserved than the average pony before, but from Celestia’s perspective, it had worsened significantly during the past thousand years. Luna wouldn’t talk about life before her banishment, much less the banishment itself and all that led up to it. When asked about her state of being, Luna kept her answers short and vague; expressing how pleased she is to be back and how sorry she is for what she’s done in the briefest of ways. The worst was the vacant eyes that stared straight ahead when not engaged with anypony. Then over time the little effort that Luna did put in petered out until she seemed to stop trying at all. When not pressured into participating, Luna spent all her time locked away in her room.

There was also the issue of Luna’s mannerisms being a thousand years dated. In private, Luna dropped some of the formalities like the royal we and the traditional Canterlot voice, but it was still an ordeal to break those habits in the public eye. On some level, Celestia was relieved Luna stopped showing up to meet with the nobles so that she would stop giving them such a bad impression of herself.

Then there was Celestia and Luna’s relationship itself. There was no denying it: Luna feared her sister, Celestia. This broke Celestia’s heart, but she couldn’t blame Luna. Celestia used the Elements of Harmony to seal Luna away in the Moon, and while she felt it was her only choice at the time, and while she knew the seal would break after a thousand years, it didn’t discount how Celestia ignored the warning signs Luna displayed up to that point.

Celestia wasn’t proud of the pony she was back then. She knew what ponies were saying about her sister, Luna. She knew Luna was hurting. She could’ve made more of an effort to get her sister recognized and to denounce all the terrible rumors, but she let it continue because she cared more about her own image at the time. Apparently, there were things even Celestia shied away from talking about with her sister.

Celestia wanted to coax Luna out of her shell but was too scared of breaking it. All Celestia felt she could do was give Luna the support and time she needed, but recent happenings have put a strain on that course of action.

Under normal circumstances, Celestia would’ve at least had time to spend a couple tea sessions with Luna occasionally, or go to a play together, or maybe drop water balloons on snooty nobles from the clouds, but public appearances made by the Princess of the Night could be problematic at the moment because of a certain problem-group.

Nightmare cultists.

They had always been the occasional problem before, though a problem that grew in magnitude as the years counted down to Luna’s eventual return. What began as an avant-garde rejection of modern mores and folkways by teens acting ‘edgy’ gave way to an active group of followers. The actions by the group were originally relegated to petty vandalism and ravings of mad ponies, but as of late have been bordering on acts of terrorism.

These attacks have compounded with the influx of a strange disease sweeping the nation. Unsightly bumps and markings have been appearing on ponies, especially in lower-income areas. They haven't been too much of an issue until recently, where several ponies with the condition fell ill to other afflictions. It was clear there was a correlation, but how and why was still being researched.

The trouble areas were mostly restricted to dense cities such as Baltimare, Manehattan, Fillydelphia, Las Pegasus, and the like, but have been creeping to more rural areas.

Attacks at night have been on the rise since Luna’s return with more ponies citing Nightmare Moon as the true ruler of Equestria. Celestia was deeply concerned by this but has made no mention of it to Luna and has ordered those in contact with Luna to do the same. Both because it could cause distress to Luna’s already fragile psyche, or worse, because Luna could possibly be connected to the incidents.

By the time Marc regained coherent thought he was already concocting ways to get back at Khonshu.

“I’m gonna kill him,” Marc said to himself. “But first, I need to find out where the hell he sent me this time.”

Marc still couldn’t get his eyes to open. Whether because of the fatigue from being forcefully put to sleep by Khonshu or because of the injuries he sustained the night of his departure he didn’t know. Probably a mix of both, as with all things. What he did know was what he was laying on was very soft, as was whatever was covering him. Where he was also smelled like the perfume department of a bath shop. The light seeping through his eyelids indicated to him that it was sometime during the day, and he swore he could hear distant trotting and talking. Where did Khonshu send him?

…Someone was coming.

Marc heard a door open, along with two pairs of footsteps. “I thought I heard someone rousing. How was your sleep dearie?” a posh, feminine voice cheerfully asked him.

This was not what Marc was expecting. He was expecting to wake up upside-down in an ice cave, or in some eldritch abominations stomach, or about to be vivisected by ancient aliens or any other insane tribulation; waking up in a British woman’s bed was not even in his top two hundred possible scenarios.

“Ah, my apologies, I assumed you had woken up,” the woman whispered.

“I’m awake,” Marc responded flatly.

“Oh! Well that’s a relief. I was wondering when you would wake up,” the unknown woman said while walking (who was that other person?) "When I found you unconscious and battered under my roof, I just couldn’t abandon you. I hope you don’t mind – oh I’m sure you don’t – but I disinfected and wrapped up those awful cuts and bruises you had and threw that tattered rag away. Honestly, you should take better care of your clothing! I could tell it was a remarkable design before it was ruined. If it’s any consolation, I’d be happy to replace it or recreate it, maybe with a twist of my own? Free of charge, of course – no, no I insist!”

This lady has a mouth on her.

Suddenly, the strange woman stopped talking and walking and Marc felt the wind brush his face as she must’ve whirled on herself to face him. She smelled like heavy rose-scented perfume and… a little like a barn?

“Oh, I’m so sorry! I haven’t even asked you for your name yet. I apologize for rambling, I’m just a tad excited. I’ve never seen a creature like you before and I was hoping if you’d allow me the time to model some new designs on you? I’m a fashion designer you know mhmm,” the lady said with a titter.

“I’m Marc. Marc Spector. And you are…?”

“Rarity, darling.”

“…Rarity?” Marc questioned skeptically.

“That is my name, don’t wear it out, as some of my friends would say. Oh! Have you perhaps heard of me where you came from? Is that why you made the dangerous trek to my establishment? It must have been dangerous judging by your wounds, why the fact that you went to such lengths flatters me ohoho~”

Alright, by this point Marc has had enough and was feeling strong enough to sit up, open his eyes, and look over at the… white, purple-maned pony.

“…What? Is there something wrong with my mane?” the mare asked, fidgeting at her hair.

“…Khonshu, what the fuck.”

Author's Note

Let me know if there are any mistakes. This is hot off the presses so I may have missed a few things.

3 - Knight on the Town

Knight on the Town

“Well, that was rather vulgar of you,” Rarity harrumphed.

“This can’t be real. This has to be some joke, or… maybe I’m going through some relapse,” Marc muttered to himself.

“…Mark?”

Marc shakily stood up and walked to the nearby window. Outside he saw multiple ponies with rainbow colored coats and manes even more garish than the one he shared the room with. Some were walking with saddlebags, talking to each other, laughing, a few were even wearing clothes.

Marc has had expansive delusions before, but never one so flamboyantly childish. This was also the first hallucination of his that felt real. Never before has Marc felt as lucid as he did now than when he went through his other delusions in the past. Was this actually real, or had he completely lost it this time?

“Um, Mark Specter?” the purple-maned pony asked.

Marc turned away from the window to face her and took in her features more closely this time. If he were standing, she would come to a little below his waist. Her purple mane and tail appeared extravagantly done compared to the ponies outside, especially to the ponies Marc was used to. On her head she also had a horn, which would make her a unicorn. Marc would’ve been skeptical that it was real, but considering his situation decided to believe it as a genuine unicorn horn; at least as genuine as the whole situation seemed. On reflection, he thinks he saw a few unicorns outside and a few flying through the sky with wings, meaning unicorns and pegasi were a thing here in addition to “regular” ponies. What Marc also recalls seeing were markings on the flanks of all the ponies he saw and looking at the flank of the one in front of him proved that wasn’t just his mind playing more tricks on him. Most notably however was how much more human their faces looked, what with being able to closely approximate expressions if the pony’s quizzical countenance was enough to judge by… Was she wearing false eyelashes?

It was by this point that Marc realized he must’ve been staring at the pony this entire time.

“Uh, sorry, what was it you said?” Marc asked, shaking himself from his analytical daze.

“I was wondering if you were feeling quite well? You look rather blanched,” Rarity politely said.

“I’m feeling a lot better now, thanks for patching me up.”

“Well, I’m happy I could help,” Rarity said with a slight curtsy.

“Rarity, would you mind telling me where I am?”

“Why, you’re in Ponyville, the loveliest little town in all of Equestria!” Rarity flaunted.

“Equestria. Right.”

“And might I ask where you come from, Mr. Mark Specter?”

“Just Marc is fine,” Marc said while deliberating how best to answer. He’s found himself in an unknown world filled with magical ponies with next to little other information other than other possible mythological creatures and children’s story tropes. This whole act of generosity could’ve been an elaborate ruse by Rarity, but if she had wanted to kill him she would’ve already done so, but instead she took him in and treated his wounds. Marc had no reason to doubt Rarity’s kindness at the moment, but he still wasn’t sure if he should give her the whole truth of his mission here, especially when he wasn’t sure about it himself. “As to where I’m from, I don’t quite remember,” Marc lied. He wasn’t sure how Rarity would react to hearing how he was an alien vigilante sent by a moon god to help this world’s moon god. He wasn’t even sure if their moon god was considered real to the populace.

“Oh, how dreadful! You really have no recollection of how you got here?” Rarity worriedly asked. She bought the 'amnesia' card a little too easily. “Well, for the time being, I’ll offer you residence seeing as how you don’t have a job or any money. And the offer of remaking your clothing is still on the table,” Rarity added optimistically. "I can only assume the original reason you came here was to update your wardrobe."

“That’s awfully generous of you, thank you,” Marc replied while looking down at himself at the mention of clothes. He was still wearing his underwear; why and how he didn’t care to know. “I’ll think about the clothes. For now, I’ll just use some spare cloth to cover up,” Marc said. He wasn’t sure about recreating his Moon Knight costume. He only continued to use it out of necessity ever since he gave up the title of Moon Knight because of its utility and the image it had amongst thugs. Marc figured nobody here knew who Moon Knight was, and since he had given up the mantle there would be no point in building up that reputation again.

“Although, if you wanted to repay me, you could offer to do some modelling and measurements?” Rarity hopefully proposed with a glint of hope in her eye.

“I suppose that’s fine. For now, though, do you know where I can learn about where I am?” As long as he was stuck here, Marc figured he should learn about his surroundings and how things worked in this new environment.

“Of course, Mark, I can take you to the library where my friend, Twilight Sparkle lives. She can answer any questions you have and perhaps have a look at you to see about your memory problem. But first, why don’t we stop somewhere to eat? You haven’t had anything since yesterday far as I can tell, and you need food to help your wounds heal.”

“That sounds fine. What did you have in mind?”

“Well, there’s a restaurant downtown that serves lovely haywheat and petunia blinis and amaryllis quiches. I find that they go well with rose water and grass compote-“

“Uh, Rarity, I can’t eat flowers, and I'd rather not wait too long for a fancy meal,” Marc interrupted.

“Oh. Umm… Would you prefer a hayburger?” Rarity asked.

“No hay either.”

“Hmm… Well, what can you eat?”

Marc thought about his answer. He didn’t want to face indigestion with eating unsuitable plants, especially in a combat scenario, but he didn’t want to put Rarity off by mentioning how he can eat meat.

“Oh! Can you eat baked goods? I’m fairly certain the only ‘flour’ used for them is of the baking variety,” Rarity said.

“Pastries? Yeah, that should be fine.”

“Then we should stop by Sugarcube Corner. It’s a lovely confectionary where one of my friends happens to work. She would love to meet you; she loves to meet everypony, or, er, ‘creature’ in your case. It’s on the way to the library, but we best get going since the sun will be setting soon.”

Rarity and Marc set off for the bakery, but not before throwing together a white cloak out of some spare fabric. It didn’t take long at all thanks to the help of magic, which was another thing Marc had to account for. Rarity was clearly dissatisfied with making something so simple, but they didn’t have time for measurements or fitting, and Marc didn’t want to traipse around town half-naked covered in bandages. To Rarity’s credit, the cloak she created was very well made. It reminded Marc of the cape and cowl he used to don.

Getting Rarity to make Marc the cloak was mostly because he was used to utilizing his clothing as a tool or even a weapon. After all, getting Rarity to make him a cloak was easier than convincing her to let him carry around a knife or scissors, and Marc had no qualms with fighting nude should the need arise.

Besides, Marc doubted being topless would’ve changed how the locals perceived him. Most of them were naked anyway. He knew he would’ve been out of place regardless. Marc got plenty of weird or even spooked looks, but nobody was actively panicking yet, which Marc took as a sign that other creatures besides ponies did in fact reside here, though they likely weren’t common.

Rarity didn’t seem to mind the stares. She almost seemed to be relishing the attention Marc drew with the way she sashayed at Marc’s side with her eyes close; she was even humming.

As they walked, Marc took in the sights of this strange world that he still questioned the realness of while thinking about his supposed mission here. What kind of problems could a ruthless anti-hero possibly resolve in bright-pastel pony-land? There didn’t appear to be any looming crisis judging by how the ponies casually went about their business. The biggest disruptor to their quaint way of life was probably Marc himself.

“So, you said your friend works at this bakery, Sugarcube Corner?” Marc said to Rarity.

“Yes dear, she works under the tutelage of Mr. and Mrs. Cake, the proprietors of the establishment. She’ll love to meet you! You’ll probably be peppered with questions, and you can bet she’ll even throw you a welcome party; she does that for all newcomers into Ponyville,” Rarity cheerfully stated. “Ah, you can see we’re coming right up on Sugarcube Corner now.”

Marc looked over to where Rarity was facing and was surprised to see it looked like a life-sized gingerbread house, complete with frosting that looked edible. As far as Marc knew, it very well could’ve been.

Marc and Rarity made their way inside the little shop. The place was fairly quiet as it was the afternoon, though Marc could still feel the weight of the stares from every patron in the room. Though out of all the eyes he’s felt thus far, he felt one that didn’t give a sense of fear or uncertainty. Looking over at the counter, Marc immediately knew who it belonged to.

“Hiya Rarity!” the pink pony yelled.

“Good afternoon Pinkie Pie,” Rarity replied.

“Oooooh, who’s your new friend?”

“This is Mark Specter. You could say he showed up on my doorstep badly hurt and without his memory. I’m taking him over to Twilight to have him looked at and answer any questions he may have. Firstly though, I thought he could do with some food in his stomach seeing as he hasn’t eaten a thing since yesterday.”

Pinkie Pie looked over at Marc and with a gasp lunged over the counter, causing Marc to take a cautious step back. She circled around him, oohing and aahing as she looked him over. Marc put up with her childish display until she tried looking underneath the cloak. She might’ve caught a glimpse at all the bandages adorning Marc’s body if her sudden silence were any indication. Before Marc knew it, Pinkie bounded back over the counter taking the same stance and dopey expression she had when he and Rarity walked in.

“So, what can I get for you?” Pinkie asked, as though she hadn’t just been closely inspecting Marc a second ago.

“I’ll have an order of crème puffs, and Mark, what will you have?” Rarity asked.

“Just a muffin is fine,” Marc replied.

“He’ll take two,” Rarity added. Marc didn’t bother arguing. “Mark, why don’t you go pick our seats while I pay.”

As soon as Marc was far enough away, Rarity turned to Pinkie and said in hushed tones, “I’m surprised you contained yourself so well. Usually, you’re much more… excitable when meeting new ponies, especially when they’re not actually ponies.”

“Heheh, what’re you talking about Rarity? I love to meet new ponies, especially the not-ponies!” Pinkie said, not bothering to contain her voice like Rarity was doing.

“Then why didn’t you barrage Mark with questions about what he is or what kind of parties he likes?” Rarity asked.

“Pfft. Rarity, you silly; I can’t ask somebody questions like that when they aren’t all here, much less throw a party for them!” Pinkie said.

“Um, what do you mean?” Rarity asked with a confused look on her face.

“Ooooooh, I shouldn’t say. Don’t you worry your pretty-purple mane though, I’ll be sure to throw an awesome fan-super-tabulous party when your friend finally gets here!” Pinkie exclaimed.

There weren’t many seats in the little bakery, but it didn’t matter since it seemed like all the other ponies cleared out expecting trouble from the large, mysterious biped. Now that he was sitting down, Marc started taking in his surroundings. Just like the outside, nearly everything inside looked edible. Behind the counter and off to the side of the entranceway were display cases filled with all manner of confections and some of which that didn’t seem to belong in a bakery like candy canes and lollipops. Even outside wasn’t safe from the sugary bonanza, as every surface was topped with displays of sweets, some of which appeared free for the taking. Marc assumed the honor system was heavily regarded in this world. However, as Marc was looking at what was arranged behind the display cases, he felt another set of eyes on him. This one, however, radiated malevolence. Marc stirred, causing the feeling to vanish, and looked to the only place he could’ve felt it; a window. Just as Marc was about to stand up to investigate, however, Rarity arrived with their food.

“I should have you know that I don’t eat sweets like this all the time,” Rarity said with a pout as she sat down and took a rather unladylike chomp out of a crème puff. “What’s wrong dear?” she said with her mouth full, followed by a gulp and a blush. “Excuse me, what’s the matter? Do you need to go to the colt’s room?”

“No, it’s nothing,” Marc said, glaring at the window. “So, what were you and… Pinkie Pie, talking about?” Marc said, settling back into his seat.

“Oh, um. No pony in particular. That you would know of anyways,” Rarity said nervously.

“Hmm,” Marc simply went as he took a bite of his muffin.

…The muffin was actually really good.

As soon as they were done eating, they head out for the library, but not before they heard Pinkie Pie call out, “Bye! I can’t wait to meet your friend!”

Meanwhile, the shadowy figure watching them, unnoticed by the thinning traffic of ponies, slinked back behind the little building.

Author's Note

Was gonna be longer, but I decided to cut it in half.

4 - Checkup

Checkup

It wasn’t long before they had arrived at the library, which again surprised Marc as it was all within an enormous tree. It reminded Marc of the Tree of Tule in terms of width and height, though their exact measurements he couldn’t be sure of.

“So, your friend lives here? Twilight Sparkle, you said?” Marc asked for clarification as they approached the tree-library.

“Yes, and she’s the smartest pony you’ll meet. If anypony could figure out what’s wrong with you and how you got here, it’s her,” Rarity said assuredly.

Marc doubted she’d find anything wrong with his memory considering he’s lying about not remembering. It was possible she’d diagnose him as insane, but he didn’t need a talking pony to tell him that. No, the point of coming here was to gather information from a reliable source. After that… he wasn’t sure. If he were being honest with himself, he’s been winging it and going with the flow since he got here. Depending on what answers he got from this supposed smart pony, he would either carry out his mission, resign himself to forever be stuck in crazy ponyland, or kill himself in hopes of ending the insanity.

“Do we knock because she lives here, or just walk in because it’s a library?” Marc asked as he stopped in front of the small doorway.

“It’s fine to just walk in since the library should still be open. She would lock the door if it wasn’t,” Rarity said as she opened the door with her telekinesis.

Marc still had to duck to get through the door, but he felt the inside seemed bigger than it appeared from outside. Though he also felt it could’ve been the furnishings that gave it a sense of openness. Shelves were carved out of the sides of the trunk of the giant tree which were filled with were filled with books ranging from small pamphlets to gargantuan tomes with the occasional scroll interspersed throughout. Where there wasn’t a shelve, there would rather be some ornate design painted on the wall, some of which depicted ponies or books or ponies reading those books. Stairs leading upwards were off to the side. There were a few tables made from more reasonably sized tree trunks that appeared to be have been grown out of the ground but must’ve been brought in later as the size indicated that they would grow through the ceiling. Lamps lit by means unknown to Marc were scattered on said tables and walls, giving the room a warm and cozy feel as opposed to the dank and dreariness that Marc was used to from what libraries he had been inside in the past. The welcoming atmosphere was certainly a departure from Marc’s own home.

“Twilight! Are you home?” Rarity called out with little regard for her being in a library. It was empty though, so what did it matter, Marc thought to himself.

“Rarity? Is that you?” a childlike voice called back from upstairs. It sounded as though it belonged to a young boy.

“Is that Twilight?” Marc asked Rarity.

“No no, that’s her assistant and charge, Spike. He’s the most adorable little dragon you’ll meet."

“Spike? Wait, dragon?”

Sure enough, a little purple and green dragon carrying a stack of books stumped his way carefully down the stairs.

“We weren’t expecting to see you today Rarity, if I had known I would’ve freshened up a little,” Spike said as he placed the books on a nearby table. “So, to what do I owe the pl-wuAGH!” Spike went as he spotted Marc, immediately ducking behind the stack of books he just placed. “Rarity, behind you!” he whisper-shouted.

Rarity made an unamused face at Spike’s display.

“Oh, stop being such a drama queen, Spike,” Rarity said, dismissively. “This is my new friend, Mark Specter. We came by to ask Twilight for her expertise.”

The young dragon shuffled meekly from behind the book stack. Marc, in turn, crouched down with his hand outstretched and made a disarming smile. It seemed to work as Spike cautiously approached with his own claws ready to shake hands.

“Hi Spike. Like Rarity said, I’m Marc. Pleased to meet you,” Marc said. He’d always had a soft spot for children. Rarely were they yet to be corrupted with the vices that came with adulthood.

Spike shook his hand with an uneasy look, but it quickly shifted to one of indignation.

“I wasn’t scared!” Spike said, retracting his hand. “I was just… worried about Rarity! How do you know her anyway?”

“She found me beaten up and patched me together. I’m staying at her place for now,” Marc said.

“Y-you’re staying at her place?” Spike asked worriedly.

“Just for now. Is there a problem with that?” Marc asked with a raise of the brow.

“N-no, just… I want no funny business, you hear? Or you gotta answer to me!” Spike said as threateningly as he could muster.

Marc made an amused smile at the realization. He could see what the little drake’s deal was.

“Cute.”

“What? Hey, I’m not… not cute! I’m a tough as nails dragon!” Spike said, puffing up his chest to appear as imposing as possible. The intended effect couldn’t have missed farther.

Rarity seemed pleased with how their introduction was going judging by her smile.

“So, Spike, where is our bookish friend?” Rarity asked, causing Spike to stop his mock staring-battle with Marc to face her.

“She’s upstairs doing some research. I can call her down if you’d like?” Spike said, already headed in that direction.

“That would be grand, Spike, thank you,” Rarity said with a nod.

After that, Spike dashed up the stairs looking for Twilight with Rarity and Marc watching him trot up the stairs, nearly tripping over a stair once in his enthusiasm to please.

“…So, dragons huh?” Marc simply said.

“Oh yes, sorry I forgot to tell you about him. Twilight’s been taking care of him for the longest time now, longer than anyone in Ponyville has known her,” Rarity said with a wave of her hoof.

Their attention was taken by the clopping of hooves on wood as Twilight made her way down the stairs, head pressed into a scroll, with Spike trailing behind her.

“Hi Rarity. Sorry, I’ve been kinda busy with this new assignment Princess Celestia has given me. Now, what was it you wante-aAH!” she went as she lifted her eyes from the scroll to Marc.

Rarity facehoofed while Spike snickered behind her. Marc tried his gentle approach once more. This would be a record amount of pleasant introductions in a single day for him.

“You must be Twilight. I’m Marc Spector. A pleasure to make your acquaintance,” he said as he reached a hand out.

“Um, hi… Sorry for overreacting just now, it’s just, I’ve never seen a creature like you before,” Twilight replied sheepishly as she took Marc’s hand in her hoof, cautiously studying his features.

“It’s no trouble. I seem to have that effect,” he said affably. Not just here, even. As Moon Knight, Marc struck fear into the hearts of many nighttime thugs. While not as unsparing as say, the Punisher, his air of mystery and sadistic streak made him more feared among those who knew of him.

Even without knowing his history, Twilight had some suspicions about her guest.

“Rarity, how do you know this…” Twilight trailed off as she looked to her white-coated friend.

“Human,” Marc helped.

“...Right. Rarity?”

“I met Mark within my boutique yesterday,” Rarity plainly stated. “He was badly hurt, and his clothes were in tatters when I found him. I just had to patch him up and give him shelter. We’re still in discussion on recreating his attire, though. We actually came by for you to have a quick look at him. Apparently he lost his memory. I don’t have as much medical knowledge as you, and you were closer than the hospital, so here we are.”

“Amnesia?" Twilight said as she cast an uncertain glance towards Mark. She clearly wasn't buying it but didn't call Marc's bluff.

"Huh, well I don’t know much about ‘humans’ but I can have a look at his vitals to see any concussive damage that might’ve caused it, and if he was attacked perhaps some spell was placed on him, I'll go and get the tools I'll need. Rarity, could you come with me to help me look?" Twilight looked at Rarity with a smile belying her nervousness as she made her way towards the stairs.

"I'd be happy to help Twilight," Rarity said as she followed suit. She didn't seem to catch the plea in her astute friend's eyes. "Spike can keep Mark company for a moment."

Twilight slowed as her eyes quickly looked from Spike to Marc and back as if silently debating with herself. Marc figured she was hesitant to leave Spike alone with him. He couldn't blame her. She was quick to reapply her friendly and unsuspicious facade when she caught Marc observing her as well, albeit with a better-practiced look of innocuousness. She may be shrewd, but her poker face needed work.

"That's... fine. Yes. We'll just be a moment," Twilight resumed as she now followed closely behind Rarity up the stairs.

It wasn't lost on Marc that she undoubtedly wanted to discuss with Rarity about the mysterious creature with mysterious wounds and mysterious past that she brought into her home. Still, she wouldn't have left Spike with him if she thought he'd do anything terrible. Yet, at least.

Marc tried listening from where he stood, but his focus was interrupted by a precocious little dragon clearing his throat behind him.

"I meant it when I said don't mess with Rarity."

Marc turned to face the lovestruck kid with a sigh. "You really like her that much, huh? Enough to stand up to the big bad human?"

"Yeah, I- wait, I didn't- I mean... She's just a friend, I don't-" Spike started blubbering before Marc stopped him.

"Hey. Don't worry about me, all right? I have no intention to steal your girl."

The embarrassment on Spike's face lingered a moment before dropping with a slump and a sigh. "...Sorry. I shouldn't have lashed out at you." Spike then sits on the wooden floor with his head in his claws with a distant look in his eyes. "Even if you did like her, it's Rarity's choice who she wants to be with."

Marc sat crosslegged across from the sulking dragon. "That's a very grown-up way of thinking."

A new light flickers in Spike's eyes as he raises his head. "But I'm still gonna keep trying to win her over!"

Marc just smirked. "I figured. So tell me about Twilight. You're living with her after all."

Spike gave Marc a funny look. "Ohh, so you like Twilight huh?"

Marc raised an eyebrow. "Would it be a problem if I did?"

"If you try anything funny-"

"Alright, I get it. But really, what are you doing living with her? Is she your mom?"

"What? No! I mean, she did hatch me, but she's not my mom... It's a long story. Officially, she's my charge. She takes care of me and I help her out with whatever she needs doing."

"Like what?"

"Y'know, stuff like cooking her meals, cleaning the library, organizing the books, carrying things when she's traveling, writing letters for her, uhh..." Spiked listed as he counted on his claws.

"Sounds like slavery," Marc wryly stated. He immediately regretted opening his mouth seeing Spike's eyes shoot wide with anger beyond what he showed when talking about Rarity.

"What!? A slave!?" Spike shot to his tiny feet. It didn't add much to his height at all, but Marc was still on guard as Spike stomped over to Marc as he was still a dragon.

"Twilight would never treat me like that! Twilight's nice! She gives me gems to eat all the time! She lets me sleep in her bed whenever I get nightmares! She never lets anypony say any bad things about me! She doesn't treat me like a monster or a pet! She cares about me!"

Spike was up in Marc's face by now, almost touching noses, and Marc could smell the sulfur coming from Spike's nostrils and between his clenched fangs.

"I'm sorry," Marc said calmly. He could see tears forming in the dragon's eyes. Spike just sniffed in response trying to keep his composure.

"I'm truly sorry. That was a terrible joke I just made. I didn't know you had it so rough, and I didn't know how Twilight made it so much better. Twilight does love you. I see that now."

Spike's composure cracked before he turned to wipe his eyes. Marc placed his hand on the little dragon's head. Spike didn't stop him.

"You really love Twilight, don't you?"

"Mmhmph."

It was now that Marc's sadistic streak decided to act up. " Are you sure you don't have a crush on Twilight instead?"

"S-Shut up, no!" Spike went, lightly batting Marc's hand away.

"You sure?"

"Eew, no, she's like a sister to me! We're family."

"Family, huh." Mark simply said. "Here, make yourself presentable before they come back," Marc said while holding out part of his cloak.

Twilight and Rarity returned down the stairs with the former leading faster with a floating white box surrounded by a purple aura. Twilight in a bit of a frenzy nearly called out Spike's name before spotting him and Marc sitting across from each other.

"Hey Twilight, you got what you were looking for?" Spike asked innocently.

"Um, yeah, we got the stuff. Sorry, it took some looking to find everything."

It was a little awkward for Marc to sit down as there were no chairs. The movement caused Marc’s cloak to shift, giving Twilight a clear view of his body. She visibly winced from the sight of the sheer number of bandaged scars and gashes decorating his body; many were clearly old. If she got a sense of danger coming from Marc before, this further cemented it.

“Don’t these hurt?” she asked concerned.

“Eh,” was Marc’s response along with a shrug.

After properly disinfecting his wounds and redressing them, she ran a few magical tests to scan for any abnormalities.

“…I’m sensing some strange aura from you, but how it would affect your memory I can’t tell,” Twilight said with a flicker of her horn.

Marc figured that might’ve been some residual energy from Khonshu, or perhaps even his own life force. In the past, he recalls calling upon the Moon for power, but that could’ve been his own body being tricked into performing beyond its limits by his warped mind.

“Other than that, I recommend you do go to the hospital. I don’t know much about your kind, but those kinds of wounds would put any other creature in substantial pain,” Twilight said as she dispelled her doctor’s tools.

“Thanks doc, and I’ll think about it,” Marc said flatly. He had no intention of ever going to another hospital as a patient again after his last visit to one.

“So, was there anything else you needed from me?” she asked. Before Marc could answer they were interrupted by a slight gasp from Rarity.

“By Celestia’s Moon, I can’t believe it’s night already,” said Rarity, looking out the window. “Or… would it be Luna’s Moon now, Twilight?” she asked, turning to her friend.

“…Whose Moon?” Marc said, sitting up, his attention peaked.

“Well, last I heard, Princess Celestia was still controlling the Moon. She feels it’s still too soon for Princess Luna to be raising and lowering it all by herself yet. Especially when we still aren’t sure if what caused her to become Nightmare Moon came from the Moon itself in the first place.”

“Hold on a second, who’s Nightmare Moon? What’s this about ‘whose’ Moon? You’re saying one of you can control the Moon here?”

“Why, yes Mark, I assumed you already knew that?” Rarity said, tilting her head.

“The Sun and Moon are raised and lowered by Princess Celestia, though the Moon used to be governed by her younger sister, Princess Luna. After Luna became jealous of Princess Celestia, Princess Luna became the dark and twisted creature known as Nightmare Moon and nearly plunged Equestria into eternal darkness. To stop her, Princess Celestia used powerful artifacts known as the Elements of Harmony to imprison Nightmare Moon within the Moon. That was about a thousand years ago.”

“But didn’t Rarity ask if it was Luna’s Moon a second ago?” asked Marc, confused.

“She was getting to that part, dude,” Spike whispered from behind Marc.

“This past year Nightmare Moon returned and was about to do what she set out for a thousand years ago, but I, Rarity, and a few other friends managed to stop her and return her to normal,” Twilight said, getting everyone besides Marc in the room to smile.

“Huh. I didn’t realize I was in the presence of national heroes,” Marc said.

That statement got a blush from Twilight and Rarity.

“Heh, I’ll admit we haven’t been called heroes of Equestria all that often,” Twilight demurely said while rubbing her cannon with her hoof.”

“So, Luna is basically being kept under house arrest until her sister can trust her again,” Marc said, turning Twilight’s bashful look slightly sour.

“Well, you didn’t have to put it so bluntly…” Twilight muttered.

“Mark, was there anything else you wanted to know?” Rarity asked.

“No… I think I’ve heard enough for now. I’ll come back later if I come up with anything, though.”

“We best be getting back to the boutique. I still need to figure out Mark’s sleeping arrangements. Oh, perhaps we’ll still have time for me to design you some nightclothes!” Rarity excitedly said as she and Marc walked towards the door.

Their business finished, Marc and Rarity said their goodbyes to Spike and Twilight and set off for Carousel Boutique.

“Wait, was it really a good idea to let them go?” Spike realized after shutting the door.

“What do you mean?” asked Twilight.

“Haven’t you heard about all the dangerous stuff happening at night in the cities lately? Maybe we should’ve let Rarity spend the night… Oh, and Mark too, I guess,” Spike quietly added.

“Oh come on Spike, this is Ponyville. There’s no way anypony around here would do anything bad. Now come with me, I need your help writing a letter to the Princess,” Twilight said as she used her magic to shut off the lights then headed upstairs.

The figure hiding beneath the window would disagree with her.

5 - Night-Knight

Night-Knight

It was a starry night in Ponyville. Most shops were closed, though lights illuminated a few windows, mostly reserved to second floors where proprietors would spend their off-hours. The surrounding area was practically devoid of life save for the buzzing bugs, chirping crickets, and flitting fireflies about. Marc preferred it this way. After spending so much time at night in the city, this was a nice reprieve from the bustle of traffic and sound of sirens. Plus, there weren’t any ponies around to gawk at him.

“I’m sorry we couldn’t fix your memory problem, Mark,” Rarity solemnly said to Marc as they walked down the quiet dirt street.

“It’s fine,” Marc responded, distracted by his thoughts. Most of the time spent at the library was during Twilight’s in-depth examination, but he felt he got enough information during the last part of their visit. Not only were the gods of this world’s Sun and Moon accepted as real, but they were also the very rulers of Equestria. It was certainly different from how things worked on Earth. Khonshu was an obscure god known only by teachers, enthusiasts, and fanatics. Very few people still honestly believed, let alone worshipped him. Now Marc found himself in a world where the Moon’s patron deity was a real figure with political power and rule over a nation. Or, rather, she used to. He wasn’t sure what to make of the revelation that this Moon’s numen had fallen from grace, especially since he was supposed to be taking orders from said goddess.

Rarity seemed to take Marc’s silence as unease about his situation. Deciding to try and lighten his mood, she decided to press on with small talk.

“I was surprised to hear that you didn’t know about Princess Celestia. I assumed beings from everywhere on Equus were taught about how the Sun and Moon were raised by her.”

“What about Luna?” Marc brought up to change the subject.

“Oh, um… well not much is talked about her, admittedly. When Princess Luna appeared in town as Nightmare Moon, Twilight was the only pony who actually knew who she was. Apparently, her existence has been understated near to the point of legend these past thousand years.”

“Why? Why would Celestia hide the existence of her own sister from the world?”

“I don’t think she was hiding her existence. Rather, she just… stopped mentioning her completely and over time ponies just forgot. Believe me, I know from my line of work that a pony’s reputation lives and dies on word of mouth. I asked Twilight about this and she told me that Princess Celestia recalled all the books written about Princess Luna after her banishment due to all the denigrating things ponies had written about her. The only records of her left were offhand references in history books, and even then, they never wrote much about her, opting to focus on her sister.”

“…You seem to know a lot about this.”

Rarity stopped walking to look back at Marc and answer.

“Well, I became curious after Nightmare Moon’s return, but also because I’ve always been more of a fan of the sky at night than during the day, even if I don’t get to enjoy it as much. Don’t get me wrong, I love the day Princess Celestia brings as much as the next pony.” She looks up and continues, “but I believe there’s a subtle beauty, elegance, and calmness to the night sky that just doesn’t get as much appreciation as it deserves. I can certainly empathize with Princess Luna’s jealously and indignation, especially during my starting years into the fashion industry. All the work that goes into bringing us this beautiful night sky, and she gets a fraction of the attention her sister gets. A crime against beauty, I say. Doesn’t dismiss the crime of trying to plunge Equestria into total darkness, though,” she added curtly.

The rest of the walk home was done while chatting about the day they had. Apparently, the excitable pink pony, Pinkie Pie, was one of the friends who helped reform Nightmare Moon. Marc had a hard time believing that one.

It was decided that Marc would stay in Rarity’s bedroom for now while she stayed in the room normally reserved for her little sister, Sweetie Belle, who was currently with their parents. Marc didn’t have much say in the matter.

“Seriously, I’m okay with sleeping in the smaller bed. I’d prefer it to kicking you out of your own room,” Marc told Rarity as she led him to her room.

“Absolutely not. There’s no way you could sleep comfortably in Sweetie Belle’s bed with how tall you are. Even my bed is cutting it, but it’s the best I can offer for now,” she said as she opened the door to her bedroom.

“I could just lie down some covers on the floor,” Marc offered, causing Rarity to gasp.

“There is no way a guest of mine is sleeping OR putting my imported, pure linen sheets on the floor,” Rarity said, disgusted with the notion. “Now get some rest, you’re still hurt after all.”

If Marc were being truthful, he’d have told her he was feeling fine. During the walk back to the boutique, Marc could’ve sword he felt his wounds being mended. In fact, Marc felt better than fine. He felt light as a feather and more acutely aware of his surroundings. He hasn’t felt nearly this good at least since his early days as a costumed crime-fighter. But not being able to explain his inexplicable newfound strength, he decided to keep up the act of being injured for now.

“Fine. You win for now,” Marc relented as he sat down on the bed.

“Good. Besides, you’ll need your rest for all the posing you’ll be doing tomorrow. I can’t wait to make you some clothes!”

“What happened to me being injured and getting my rest?

“Oh don’t be such a baby, just think of it as some physical therapy. You wanted to pay me back, right?” Rarity playfully pouted.

“Yeah yeah,” Marc said as he shuffled himself under the covers.

“Goodnight, Mark.”

“…Knight.”

With that, Rarity left her room that she was loaning to Marc to perform her ablutions before bed. After checking over the boutique a final time and locking up she headed to Sweetie Belle’s room, but not before checking up on Marc a final time. She peaked her head into her room he was staying in and saw what must’ve been him underneath the covers. Content, she headed to bed herself.

“You did good, Rarity,” she congratulated herself as she carefully tucked herself under the covers. “Though I must say, there’s something odd about Mark Specter; just what did Pinkie mean? And he said something about… ‘Khonshu,’ I think it was, when he first saw me, didn’t he?” she said followed by a heavy yawn. “Oh well, questions for later.”

Rarity snuggled deeper into her sister’s bed that used to be her own, falling deeper into a slumber. Just as she was drifting off to sleep however, a shadowy figure creeped up to the edge of her bed with a rag in its magical hold.

“…mm… Mark, is that you?” Rarity blearily asked, still groggy.

The intruder thought he knew the answer to that question as he prepared to pounce on Rarity with the chloroformed rag, until he heard a response.

“Yeah, it’s me. But this isn’t,” Marc replied from behind the figure.

Just as the mysterious pony whirled around to face him, Marc turned his body the opposite way into a roundhouse kick to the face, sending the dark figure slamming into the wall. The crash fully roused Rarity, who shrieked before ducking out and behind the bed.

“Aughh, what the…?” the intruder said sitting up and rubbing his damaged jaw with a hoof.

“I was wondering when you’d show up, though I assumed you were after me,” Marc said. “Could smell the chloroform, so you must’ve wanted to wait until she was at least asleep to be sure she’d stay knocked out for whatever you wanted to do. By the way, Rarity, you spend too much time getting gussied up just to go to bed.”

“…Meep,” Rarity squeaked, frightened by the sight in front of her.

Marc could see the pony in front of him was a unicorn, judging by the black horn protruding from his head, but the rest of the pony was a mystery until he could get the black shroud covering him off. Marc himself was wearing the cloak made by Rarity. With his back to the window, he looked like a dark figure covered by pure white with only the whites of his eyes visible to the attacker. Just like the old days.

Marc had fought quadrupeds in the past like feisty dogs and big cats, but never a pony. The impact caused by the pony hitting the wall told Marc a bit about their body weight, and the fact he could’ve gotten so much distance out of that kick proved to him that he was, in fact, stronger than ever.

The unicorn had recovered and now took a stance like he was about to charge at Marc, but instead charged up his horn and shot a blast of pure arcane at him. Marc could sense the energy building up and dodged preemptively to the side, though a bit of his cloak was singed and the window behind him cracked apart.

“Not the cloak!” Rarity cried out.

Marc launched himself towards the figure, though the speed at which he did was higher than he was used to, causing him to miss the punch that was aiming to follow up where his kick had landed. The pony sidestepped Marc’s fist that ended up going straight through the thin wall.

“They didn’t say anything about a two-legged freak being here!” the mystery pony rasped.

“Who’s they? And why have you been following us all day? First at the bakery, then at the library!” Marc yelled as he pulled his fist out of the wall.

“You think those were me? We’re everywhere pal,” the trespasser said as he charged up his horn.

Marc braced himself for what he was about to unleash but was met with a flash of light that momentarily blinded him. By the time he regained his sight, the interloper was gone.

“Where’d he go?” Marc quickly asked Rarity.

“I-I don’t know!”

Marc rushed to the broken window but found no sign of the assailant; could unicorns teleport?

“Rarity, did you know that pony?”

“No! At least, I don’t think so?”

“Why would anybody want to attack you? Do you have a stalker?”

“I’ve met nearly every pony in town by now; there’s nopony that I can think of that’d try to do something like this. I’ve heard rumors of dangerous things happening in the city, but I never would’ve imagined it could find its way to a pleasant village like Ponyville.”

Marc’s mind was racing from the recent bout, and there was a nagging at his head that something was terribly wrong. Khonshu sent Marc to Rarity rather than Luna for a reason. Was it to protect her? The attacker wasn’t after him, but Rarity. She couldn’t think of anybody who might do this, so the motive was unlikely to be personal. Why would someone want to kidnap her? She’s technically a national hero thanks to her playing a part in vanquishing Nightmare Moon. Nightmare Moon; Princess Luna. Marc was sent here because of a problem concerning the Moon. The lines were connecting in Marc’s mind. Rarity was attacked because she helped reform Princess Luna. She helped. There were others…

…The bakery… Pinkie Pie…

…The library… Twilight Sparkle…

…Wait.

“You think those were me?”

Oh no.

“Marc? What are you doing? Why are you just standing there?” Rarity looks around at her trashed sister’s room. “How did you know that pony would be here? Where did you learn to fight like that?

“…Who are you-”

“Rarity, I promise I’ll answer your questions later, but we don’t have time right now.”

“Huh?”

“Your friends are in danger.”

6 - Rescue Attempt

Rescue Attempt

Before Rarity could process what Marc had told her, he had already bounded out of the already shattered window. Landing in a roll, he took off by retracing the steps he took with Rarity earlier in the day. There were practically no lights lit in the windows of the surrounding buildings, but it didn’t matter; the light from the Moon was enough to guide him. Marc felt the moonlight wash over his body, even under the pale cloak flowing behind him. It filled him with power that surged throughout his body from head to toe as his feet pounded the ground leaving clear imprints from the force of his steps. Within what seemed less than a minute, skidding to a stop, Marc was in front of the darkened façade of Sugarcube Corner.

There was little time to spare for Marc. Whoever was after Rarity wasn’t working alone. They were part of an organized group whose motives were unclear. All Marc was certain of was that they were after the Element bearers because of their connection to Nightmare Moon.

Marc quietly tried the door to the bakery but found that it was still locked. Rarity’s intruder had snuck in before she had locked up for the night, so it was possible that was the case here. Not wanting to break down the door for fear of losing the element of surprise, he decided to try the windows. After stepping back a few paces, Marc ran up the side of the building and vaulted himself over the roof. The roof was rather steep, but Marc’s bare feet were able to keep their grip on the cookie-shaped shingles. The closest window that looked to lead into a hallway wouldn’t budge, but he was sure at least one near the top would be unlocked. After scaling the steep roof, Marc peered into the window of the cupcake-shaped extension and found what appeared to be a bedroom. Judging by all the party-balloons decorating the place, Marc had a feeling he knew whose room this was. Thankfully, the window was left unlocked.

Marc silently crept into the room through the window, shutting it behind him. When he turned back around, he was stunned at how much bigger the place was on the inside. The room was circular with a railed staircase following the wall. It was rather sensibly furnished to Marc’s modest surprise. He expected something a little more… lively.

The bed was empty, but it was still made. For a second Marc believed himself to be too late but realized that a kidnapper wouldn’t stop to make the bed after kidnapping someone, so it was possible Pinkie Pie hadn’t gone to bed yet. However, that still left the question as to where the excitable mare could be. The room was unassuming at a glance, but something about it was still bugging Marc. After walking a bit through the room, he found what it was. The floor.

Getting down closer to the ground Marc saw the edges indicating a trapdoor. Deciding to investigate, Marc looked for a possible switch to open it. After a bit of inspecting, he found the ice-cream cone-shaped rail cap. Pressing it, the floor behind him opened, revealing what appeared to be a slide leading down to darkness.

“Now where does this lead…” Marc muttered to himself.

After taking a second to steel himself, Marc jumped down onto the slide prepared for the worst.

The slide down was a pitch darkness not even Marc’s enhanced sight could penetrate. It also seemed to last way longer than what would make sense for the size of the building. Was there a basement? Also, wasn’t there a second floor that this slide would be going through somehow? Questions for later.

Eventually the slide sloped to a stop and Marc landed as quietly as he could manage, though he felt it wasn’t quiet enough that anybody nearby wouldn’t have heard. He still couldn’t see, which was a major problem he foresaw but didn’t have time to address. He began slowly walking forward hoping to hit a wall where there might be a light switch or door to someplace with some light. When he finally reached it, he was surprised to immediately find what felt like a switch on the wall. He figured whoever designed this place made it so that after riding the slide you could just walk forward to find the light switch. It was only after switching it and turning around that he realized his folly. The lights did turn on, and immediately behind Marc was a giant cannon facing right at him.

“SURPRISE!”

Marc quickly ducked to the ground below the cannon’s aimed shot. Instead of a splintering sound of an impact from a cannonball or grapeshot, it appeared the cannon launched an absurd amount of confetti and streamers that would no doubt have incapacitated him and tangled him up. Looking up, Marc saw the cannon operator. He was immediately torn between feelings of relief and annoyance.

“Oh, Hiya Mark! Out of all the ponies I wasn’t expecting, I was expecting you about the same as them. Which I wasn’t! Hiya!”

Behind the giant cannon was none other than Pinkie Pie, who was sporting a massive grin on her face.

“So, what brings you to my party planning cave, Mark?” Pinkie asks as she tilts the massive gun forwards, slides down it and lands on her hooves.

Marc was confused as he looked over the cannon to the slide he just got off from. “…I… Pinkie, how did you get that cannon behind me? I walked straight from the slide to the wall.”

“This isn’t just a cannon Mark, this is my party artillery, reserved only for special occasions,” she said with a flourish of her hooves towards said piece of artillery as if to indicate the importance.

“That doesn’t answer my question, Pinkie,” Marc said, getting annoyed.

“You didn’t answer my question first~!” Pinkie singsong retorted, sticking her tongue out slightly.

“…I came here to rescue you.”

“From what?”

“Kidnappers.”

“Hmmm, I don’t think there are any goats around here.”

“…”

“…”

“…ponynappers.”

Pinkie then did the most overdramatic gasp Marc has ever seen performed by any creature. Done, he pinched the bridge of his nose.

“If you didn’t know about them, why were you prepared with a trap?”

“It wasn’t a trap, it was a surprise! I got a tingly feeling telling me some pony was coming, so I prepared a little surprise party for them when they got here.”

“So, they haven’t come yet?”

“Oh, they came already. They had to leave though. And without the party favors I had for them!” she pouted.

“…Wait, what?”

“You just missed the party. Look around you!”

Taking a moment to look around, Marc saw what Pinkie was talking about. All around the room lie confetti and streamers. Multiple pies and cakes were on the floor and a few were stuck to the walls and file cabinets. Present boxes were scattered with their contents spilling out either candy or toys; one appeared to be filled with some green goo. He even saw the outline of a pony made with what appeared to be a blast of flour. Something bad happened here, Marc thought to himself.

It looks like Pinkie Pie didn’t need his help after all.

Marc was about to further question Pinkie Pie until he heard a shrill scream coming from up the slide, and it was getting louder. Looking up the slide Marc saw Rarity sliding down headed straight for Pinkie.

“Rarity!” Pinkie proclaimed, forelegs outstretched.

“EEEEEEK-OOMFF!” Rarity went as she landed into Pinkie.

“Rarity? What are you doing here? How did you find me?” Marc asked.

“Ow… I came here looking for you! You weren’t very hard to track; you left prints leading all the way here. What did- yes, hello to you too, Pinkie- what did you mean when you said my friends are in danger?”

Marc then took the time to quickly explain to them what happened. How he felt someone was watching them earlier at Sugarcube Corner and then at Golden Oak Library. How Rarity was attacked. Then about his hunch that ponies were planning to abduct the Element bearers.

“We don’t have much time, Twilight may still be in danger.”

“Twilights in danger!? We have to save her!” Pinkie exclaimed as she zoomed up the slide.

“…”

“…”

“…Are we supposed to follow her up the slide?” Marc asked Rarity.

“Just follow me dear, like you said, we must hurry.”

After leaving Sugarcube Corner, Marc, Rarity, and Pinkie Pie rushed over to Golden Oak Library. In the back of Marc’s mind he was concerned that he couldn’t remember how they left Pinkie’s “party cave,” but he had more pressing matters to attend to. Even after slowing himself down, Rarity was having some trouble keeping up with Marc while Pinkie Pie fared much better. Both were equally determined however to see their friend safe.

Turning a corner, Marc saw the treehouse, and he didn’t like what he saw. Windows were smashed open, and a few books were scattered as though they had been thrown through them.

“Twilights books? She would never treat them so harshly. Something terrible must have happened here!” Rarity said as they approached the carnage.

“You two stay here while I check inside,” Marc said to them.

“No way José, not without us you’re not!” Pinkie loudly said.

“Quiet, they may still be here.” Marc whisper-shouted, his mind latching to how Pinkie would know the name José.

“Twilights our one of our best friends. You can’t just expect us to wait out here while she could be in danger.” Rarity angrily remarked.

“…Fine,” Marc relented, “but stay behind me, and stay silent,” punctuating the last part by giving a hard look at Pinkie. Unicorn magic could be useful, and Pinkie’s proven to be proficient at self-defense, even if she doesn’t know it.

Luckily for them, the door was unlocked, though whether that put Twilight at a disadvantage was another thing. Looking at the room, Marc saw a similar scene that he witnessed at Pinkie’s secret base, though a lot less comical and amusing. The neat and orderly library that Marc had visited just earlier that day was gone. Books and scrolls were littered all over the room with scorch marks covering the floor and walls. Lights were shattered, chairs were turned over and or broken.

Scanning the area, Marc quickly made his way to the stairs with Pinkie and Rarity in tow. After reaching it, Marc heard something: crying. Moving faster, Marc ran up the wooden staircase to until he entered what must’ve been Twilight’s room, and in the center surrounded by a magical field was none other than Twilight, curled up and sobbing softly. The room looked to be in about as much disarray as downstairs, but Marc’s focus was on Twilight.

“Twilight? Are you okay?”

The only answer Marc received was a shiver from the purple unicorn. She didn’t even bother looking up. Marc tried pressing on the dome surrounding her to find it was solid. A fight must have broken out and Twilight sealed herself away. She was safe, but why was she crying? Then Marc realized what it was: he hadn’t yet seen Spike. This wasn’t his forte. Looking back at the staircase, he saw Pinkie and Rarity come up the stairs. Upon seeing their grieving friend Rarity softly choked and Pinkie’s mane seemed to slowly deflate a bit from its previous poofiness. Marc motioned for them towards Twilight as he stepped aside.

“Twilight?” Rarity called with Pinkie Pie looking somber beside her.

This got more of a response as Twilight lifted her head to see her friends worried faces. Her tear-soaked face lit up with recognition as the barrier separating them fizzled away. Twilight stood and took a nervous step towards them before practically falling into their forelegs bawling harder than before.

“Shhh, it’s okay dearie, we’re here now,” Rarity cooed as she stroked Twilight’s mane.

Twilight choked on a sob. “No, no no no it’s not, it’s not nooo.”

“What’s wrong Twilight?” Pinkie asked more softly than Marc’s ever heard her speak before.

“Some–*sob*– somepony took Spike!”

Author's Note

I always finish these late at night so I'm constantly torn between uploading them as is or waiting for a more reasonable hour where it might get noticed. Fuck it. Here you go. Like, comment, ~~and subscribe~~ if you enjoy what you see. I love getting feedback.