Reality reasserted itself and she crashed into hot, rough stone, overwhelmed and borderline insensate. Sunset croaked out a sound that might have been a groan, every part of her feeling hot and raw.

“Huh,” a voice broke through the haze. “…that…did not look fun.” A leathery nose pressed into her cheek. “Are you okay?”

It was a voice she was not expecting and it made her sit up, worried that her trip had taken her to Equestria instead of where she was aiming at. “Spike?!” she rasped, looking for the young drake in his real form. “Don't tell me I ended up in Equestria…”

…only to let out a rather undignified sound as her vision settled on not a dragon child, or the small fluffy dog that permanently looked like a half grown puppy to her…but something else entirely. Sunset registered that it was Spike—or at least had his coloring, but it was vaguely canid at very best. It was also enormous, compared to the lapdog she knew; if Sunset had to guess he was almost as big as her pony self. Sleek purple fur, a few shades darker than normal, a long, savage muzzle with much larger and sharper teeth, and oversized batlike ears still managed to be doggy enough, but all four legs ended in wicked talons, and a leathery crest peppered with faint scaling dominated his spine like a parody of a zebra’s mane…all the way down a long, snakelike tail that he still managed to wag. Perhaps most disconcerting of all was the eldritch green flames that leaked out of his mouth.

“I don't know what an Equestria is, but we’re where we’re supposed to be. Twilight’s here somewhere.” Spike canted his head. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?” His ears drooped. “Did I do something Bad?”

Sunset shook her head. “Um…no, Spike. Not bad…I just…you…don’t look like you.”

Glowing eyes squinted at her, and he turned in circles trying to see his own body. “What do you mean? I’m bigger, but I’m still me.”

She arched her brow. “You’ve never looked like a pony sized hellhound before.”

“Oh, that. It's part of the Choosing, I think? To help fight the Bad Thing and make sure Twilight doesn't get lost on the way back.” Spike puffed out his chest proudly. “We’re much better at not getting lost than two-legs, even far away like this!” His tail made a slithery sound on the rough stone as he wagged it vigorously. “That's why I came with you! You need me to help find Twilight and find home!”

Ooooookay…that was a plethora of questions she didn't have time for.

Then he studied her. “Your outside is all different too, but you are more you now. I’m the same. Maybe it's how The Good Thing protects us from The Bad Things that are here.”

Oh…horseapples. She hadn't even thought to look at herself…

A glance down told her that she was still bipedal in shape, given that she was looking at hands tipped with those dark, dangerous talons, and human arms. Bringing them up to her face for inspection confirmed a flat, human face, though her tongue determined that her teeth were razor sharp. Pony ears were on her head, feeling like they were covered by her winter coat, and the horn on her forehead was the demon’s smooth, curved one instead of her unicorn one. Further inspection clued her in on the fact that she was completely nude, a fact dulled by learning that there was a line of curly fur following the slight depression of her spine and feathering out around her butt and thighs, thickest at the base of the long tail and little more than velvety muzzle fuzz down most of her legs. Her feet were taloned but still flatfooted, and the bottoms had much thicker, darker soles than her human ones. The long tail was exactly the same as the demon from the conversation in her own head, with a leonine-like structure that had a long curtain of living flame instead of a pony’s tail…

Perhaps the thing that caught her by surprise the most was the one thing that mattered more to her than anything else about her shape. More than her horn, more than hooves or demon talons or hands or that her clothes had apparently been left somewhere and she would be sad if they were gone for good because that Team Captain shirt had meant something to her… Fingers tentatively brushed over the brilliant eight rayed sun on the outside of her thigh, the colors and shape unmistakeable, and uniquely, wonderfully, gloriously hers.

She had her cutie mark back.

“Oh,” she breathed, when the mark didn't fade or rub off, the faint tingle in the short fur that covered that part of her mismatched anatomy identical to the way it felt on a pony body. She blinked back tears, swallowing hard.

—It's part of our soul, hornhead. It is always there, even when we can't see it.— The voice was quiet for a minute. —But…it does mean more when it's right there, doesn't it?—

“Like Equestria hasn't completely abandoned us,” she agreed, tracing the mark’s pattern. “Like I’m closer to being whole.”

“A whole what?” Spike asked, confused. “And what's this Equestria thing you keep talking about?”

Sunset ran a hand through her mane, pushing it back from her face. “It's…the place I’m from. Where I lived when I was very young. It's…very different from where I live now.”

The dog tilted his head. “Is it where your mother is? That's where I was before the Choosing. With Mother and Smooth-Gentle-Touch, and my littermates.”

“Um…kind of? It's where I was born, I guess…but…I…don't have a mother. Not really. Just someone who looked after me until I could do it myself.” No part of the redheaded former unicorn wanted to delve into that right now. “Also, Choosing?”

“The Choosing. It's very important. It's when we meet our two-leg who is special. Not all of us are Chosen, but when it happens, it means they need someone to look out for them. Protect them, help them. I help Twilight.” Spike licked her hand. “I protect her—though I’m glad you do too. Twilight is not very big, and she gets into a lot of trouble, all the time. It's a lot of work protecting her, especially when she doesn't like to listen.”

—Does the dog have Sparky’s number or what?—

Giggling, Sunset ruffled the oversized ears. “She really does get into a lot of trouble, doesn't she.”

“Less since you met her,” he acknowledged. “She’s been too distracted by wanting to be your mate.” After a minute of consideration, he added, “You should mate with her more often. It seems to keep her out of trouble and the Bad Things away.”

Her eyes looked anywhere but Spike. “…that’s…up to her right now,” she said tightly. “She…she's angry at me, because I didn’t tell her the truth about me, and she found out some other way. I’m…not sure she even wants to be my friend anymore, let alone anything else.” And that didn't even touch on the possibility that this might have been a one way trip for Sunset.

Spike leaned against her leg. “Something broke when you fought…but it's still there. It’s a Choosing of a different kind—can’t you feel it?“

What he was saying made some measure of sense, but… “It's still her choice, Spike,” Sunset told him gently. “I won't force it…she…she wasn't wrong with what she accused me of. I had kept stuff from her, important things that did have something to do with her and things going on in her life. I might have had a good reason in my head or a bad one…but I still did it, and that hurt her trust in me.” The redhead knew all too well how hard trust was to rebuild when it had been cracked or broken…from both sides of that divide.

He sighed. “Why do two-legs make everything complicated?”

Snorting, Sunset patted his neck consolingly. “I have no idea, considering I’m not one of them…but it's not unique to humans. Ponies are just as bad, and I've met some species who are even worse.” She did not want to explain yaks to him, and hoped he wouldn't ask.

“You're not?” The dog considered that, really looking at her. “Huh. That explains a lot. So why are you hiding as one? Is it to hunt The Bad Things?”

She had no idea what he was talking about, so she tried to think of the best way to explain it. “It's…you know how we had to travel to get here? Through a special kind of door? I had to do something similar to get to where Twilight lives from Equestria. Part of that door makes me able to live and survive in that space, where my other body would have failed.”

“Oh.” Spike was quiet for a bit. “That makes sense. Hunters have to be able to sneak up on prey, and they can't do it if they are bright and shiny like birds…and the Bad Things are very smart, dangerous prey-that-also-hunts.”

—He might be referring to dark magic,— the voice observed, —given the context he uses ‘Good Thing’ and ‘Bad Thing’ in.—

Sunset sighed. “It's because it doesn't hunt on its own. It uses thinking creatures, smart creatures, infects and twists them, makes them into monsters, and smart creatures are dangerous prey.”

There was a thoughtful calculation in his eyes. “Would you teach me more about The Bad Things so I can help when they come hunting my pack? You and I are the only ones who seem to smell them.” His head tilted. “Though, if you're not really a two-leg, then that could be why. They dont notice important things like that.”

She exhaled a slow breath through her nostrils. “I’ll be happy to explain it to you later, but…we need to start looking for Twilight…” Her eyes took in their dim, dismal surroundings. “…and I have no idea where to start.”

Hell appeared to be a cave system of some kind, with the shape of the passages reminiscent of old volcanic lava tubes. The walls and floor were dark stone, and she could pick out patches of column basalt in the walls—the unique columns were telling, even if she only saw parts of them from the side. The floor under her feet seemed a mix of the same thing, large hexagonal “tiles” jutting up in irregular patches…but the space between the dark patches was…pretty in a way she wasn't expecting. It held the cool, smooth texture of obsidian, but this obsidian was a rippling, iridescent rainbow of shifting colors in the faint yet pervasive lighting. In fact, if she didn't know better, Sunset would have sworn it was the source of the light—except she wasn't sure there actually was any light, given the extreme level of low-light vision that had one of those side effects of spending time as a rampaging hellspawn.

—It's very Tartarus in its decor. Just about as depressing, too.—

Sunset blinked. We’ve never actually been inside Tartarus. Sure, she’d seen the entrance once, when Princess Celestia had stopped on the way to a Summer Sun Celebration to check on the guardian and the seals on the entrance. It was one of the few times Sunset had obeyed the order to stay in the chariot without question. She had felt the dark, yawning oppressiveness of the overshadowed entrance in the rocks and wanted absolutely nothing to do with it.

—Be glad of that. It's actually nicer here.—

“Is it though?” the former unicorn muttered, the way her voice just didn't seem to carry making her skin crawl. The air felt…wrong: heavy and unnaturally still and thick, with an unpleasant odor that coated her mouth and airways with every unpleasant inhale, and it felt like it resisted the vibrations of sound waves to an extreme level.

It also didn't help that it felt like she was being watched.

Spike had been padding in a slow circle around her, sniffing and listening, before he went still, nose pointed down one of the myriad of passages that branched off from the passage they were in. “Twilight is this way,” he said. “I can tell.”

“Part of that Choosing thing?” she asked, curious. What he described sounded like a form of primitive species magic, but she’d never heard of one that was bound up in some kind of symbiotic—no, scratch that, she had, she realized. The centaurs and gargoyles who lived in the outer reaches of the far side of the dragon lands had something like that. It's why they intermarried and produced offspring of either one of the parent species. Was this another example of the faint, subtle magic in the human world that she had overlooked?

“Yup! Come on!” He started trotting ahead, and she jogged to catch up.

Blue-green eyes scanned their surroundings. “Don't run off, Spike,” Sunset cautioned. “We don't know what's in here with us. I don't want anything to happen to you…Twilight would be devastated.”

Spike made a sound, a rough, raspy noise that might have been doggy laughter. “She’d get mad. When I was still growing, a mean boy kicked me. Twilight jumped on him and hit him until Father-Night-Wise picked her up off him.”

“That’s exactly my point. We don't know what kinds of dangerous things are in these tunnels. Stay close, in case we have to fight.” She rested a hand on his muscular back. “It's important that we get to Twilight in one piece.”

The canine sobered up. “Okay. I’ll be Good.”

They walked at a fast clip in silence for a while before the oppressive quiet got to her. “So…why do you call Twilight by her name and her dad all that other stuff?” she asked, needing to have something break the pressure on her ears.

“It's who they are. Twilight is…she’s Twilight. She’s my two-leg. Its who she is, and I know and others can tell. Also…talking like this means it sounds funny…but all names are like that for pack-kind….dogs. Father-Night-Wise, Mother-Velvet-Soft…”

Lips quirking into a smirk, Sunset asked, “Do I want to know what you call me?”

Spike glanced her way. “You are Sunset-Protector-Fire,” he told her. “…but you don't need me to tell you who you are—it's part of you, and you put it on all your things.”

Her fingers rubbed the mark on her leg. “You mean this?”

“Uh huh. It's you.”

“Oh.” It had to be a form of inherent magic. Maybe dogs had some kind of primitive form of soul magic? Her ancestors had possessed something like that, long since lost in any conscious form, since it was commonly understood that cutie marks were a pure and ancient form of it that pervaded her entire species. “Are all dogs this smart or…are you special?” Perhaps it wasnt species based, but an individual with an unusual affinity?

“It's because I was Chosen. Not-Chosen are still Good Dogs, but…they're like Bonehead-Shiny-Drools-A-Lot.”

Sunset blinked. “The golden retriever that I keep seeing trying to fit multiple tennis balls in his mouth?”

Spike wagged his tail. “That's him. He’s a Good Dog, but not Chosen.”

—It's definitely a selective form of species based magic.—

I’m thinking it's actually symbiotic soul magic in action. I’d love to study it someday—that's such a rare field, and so bound up in ethics laws that finding something like this to look into is like finding a vein of naturally occurring Thracian Black Steel. Twi is gonna freak out when we tell her.

—Horn-head, that's an alloy.—

Exactly my point. She addressed Spike. “So…you were always this smart then? This isn't new?”

He shook himself, sending embers of green flame everywhere. “I mean, I’m smarter now than when I was Smallest, but aren't you smarter now than when you were a pup?”

“Uh…I was a foal, actually. A unicorn foal.” This was quickly competing for the title of Strangest Conversation Ever. It might even beat arguing with her dark side while magic tried to rip her apart. “But…yes. I get what you mean.”

Silence fell again, and it was just as choking as before. It served, however, to highlight something to Sunset that caused her to slow down and start scanning her surroundings again. “I don't like this,” she muttered. “This is supposed to be a prison…and humans named a whole torturous afterlife after it…but it's…quiet. Too quiet. Where are the guards? Or the roving monstrous demons? I feel watched, but there's nothing here!”

Spike sniffed the air. “I don't smell anything. Maybe it's because Twilight doesn't belong here, and they know we’re here to rescue her?”

Twilight might not belong here, but part of Sunset did. “I’ve got a bad feeling about this,” she muttered. “Nothing is ever this easy for Sunset Shimmer…”

—Well now you’ve gone and jinxed us, horn-head. You’ve uttered one of the things you shouldn't say in a situation like this. Right up there with ‘what's the worst that could happen?’ and ‘It’ll be easy.’—

She rolled her eyes. “Please don't tell me you buy into that superstitious nonsense. It's a sil—“

Between one footfall and the next, swirls of obsidian vanished, and Sunset found herself tumbling into darkness, Spike’s howl chasing her into the Abyss.

Author's Note

*chuckles.* So yeah, This is why I did Cassandra's Cry the way I did.

So it would make sense to all of you.

For those of you in the audience that haven't read Cassandra's Cry, you probably should. Spike makes more sense then.

I had a lot of fun deciding on his Hellhound form. Bruhaha. Tiny little dog turns out to be big in spirit, as it were.

Dogs and/or cats get associated with the underworld, the spirit world, and death in a lot of cultures, which I find to be particularly fascinating. So I made use of it.

I have to admit, i've been laughing all week at everyone thinking this was going to be the Doomguy side of things. The fight's out there, and its just there to buy Sunny some time. Doesnt make it any less cool, but...

Well.

Let's just say that Sunset is about to embark on an underworld journey of a much more TRADITIONAL narrative type.

And since its Halloween-ish, and Halloween has long been my favorite holiday, I give to you TWO chapters this week!

Also, Sunset has just said the one thing you never say. So...

Here comes Murphy.