Venturing into the swimming area once again was surprisingly troubling. Despite having come here since Pinkie’s murder in order to pay respects, with just the two of us visiting it felt eerily quiet. I wondered if anyone might wish to come here again for the purpose of swimming, but it didn’t seem likely. Yoko was the most plausible candidate, having previously joined Dopple and myself to bolster his exercise regimen, and Button had been dead set on getting Maribelle to accompany him so he could see her without any clothes. (Which was admittedly something that I actually wouldn’t have minded seeing.) But even so, as far as I was aware, aside from the memorial, nobody had come here since Pinkie’s death. I didn’t believe in spirits or the like, but even so, the place had gained a peculiar aura. Whether Dopple felt the same, I had no idea.

“What are you looking for?” I asked as Dopple scoured the pool perimeter like a hound-dog.

“I don’t know,” Dopple replied, not looking up. “I don’t know what I expect to find. Maybe you should look too. You might find something.”

I furrowed my brow. The walls of the room were plain and devoid of anything suspicious. I failed to understand how staring into concrete would reveal some almighty truth, but considering that it was Dopple who had suggested the idea – a mare who Mesmer claimed was the most intelligent of us all, someone of which he attributed great hope – I deigned to believe that perhaps I was missing something vital.

We opened the room in the corner, still bereft of a working lightbulb and shrouded in darkness, illuminated only slightly from the less than stellar lighting of the swimming area. Nothing but swimming floats and foam boards, the same as before. Dopple began prodding the walls of this room, discovering only more concrete.

“Looks like there are no secret passageways in here,” Dopple surmised as we left the third floor.

“Secret passageways?”

“Haven’t you noticed?” Dopple said. “Monobunny manages to get around the dome in ways that don’t make sense.”

“Oh, I remember,” I replied. “But even if we find those passageways, how will it help us?”

“We won’t know that until we find them.”

I regarded Dopple thoughtfully as we neared our next destination – the library. “Tell me again, why did you want me to come along?”

“To learn more about you,” Dopple answered, finally meeting my gaze.

“But why?”

“That’s not for me to say,” Dopple said, stepping into the library.

“Why can’t you just tell me?”

Dopple stopped in her tracks and looked over her shoulder at me. “I already told you yesterday about motivation. My point being, sometimes a creature cannot, or will not, divulge their intentions, for whatever reason. Sometimes it’s because they assume their intentions to be understood through context, while in others it’s because their motives are meant to differ from what is immediately apparent.”

My mind swirled. “And what about you?”

“What about me?” Dopple replied stoically. “I just want to learn about you for the sake of it. Whether you are an ally or an enemy, learning about someone would be advantageous, correct?”

“I guess.” My shoulders slumped. “Why aren’t you as friendly as you were before? Is it because of what I said?”

Dopple paused. “I’m merely waiting for you to comply with my request. Once that’s done, I’ll become more friendly, I assure you. As for what you said, I can tell you now, that if I should ever attack you in a way you perceive to be murderous, you may do everything in your power to stop me, even breaking my wings if you so wish.”

I shuddered at Dopple’s declaration. We continued our tour by searching the library once again. “You wanted to hear about my life,” I said with a sigh.

“If you may. As I said, I wish to learn more about you.”

This discourse wasn’t going the way I’d envisioned. I sensed an air of hostility I hadn’t expected. Yet still I pursued her, desperate to regain what had been lost. “There’s not much to tell. I’m not sure what you’d learn.”

“What about your interests?”

“Well, reading, I guess,” I answered with a shrug. “But that’s all I really have.”

Dopple looked up at this. “Tell me, does anything about the books in this library strike you as odd?”

I frowned, looking between the aisles. “I don’t know. I don’t think so.”

“And what about the books you’ve read?”

“I haven’t read any of them yet.” The yet was nothing but a ruse. Every day that passed had lessened my desire to read, reality superseding my want for a window into another life. I doubted if I would ever put my nose in a book ever again.

“I see,” Dopple replied, her eyes still wandering down the aisle. It felt as if she wanted an explanation but decided it better not to ask. Either that, or she suspected me of lying. “Well, one thing that strikes me as odd is the lack of non-fiction. No books about history, biology, no encyclopedias or even biographies. Everything here is fiction.”

Curious, I traced my line of sight over the spines of the books that cluttered the shelves. While there were no signs or well-defined sections of the sort, and the books completely out of order by any means of alphabetization or size, from what I could tell, Dopple was right. “Maybe Monobunny thought we’d be better off with something we could just sit down and relax with.”

“I’ve read plenty of books,” Dopple said, “but few and far between were they works of fiction. If anything, I’d find a book telling of the natural world to be of much greater interest, so if that was the intention, it was ill-conceived.”

I felt a pang of annoyance at being told this. I knew it was a stupid suggestion, but the need to continue conversation had spurred me on. It hadn’t helped that the educational subjects of which Dopple spoke had never interested me in the slightest. “Maybe it’s just a coincidence then.”

Dopple grabbed one of the books, seemingly at random, and flicked through a few pages. Then she did the same again to the next few books in the same line. “This is odd, too,” she remarked, opening the pages before me. “Surely something is missing here?”

I saw nothing amiss at first, the first page offered the book’s title and author – ‘King of The South’ by Yarn Spinner – after which the words ‘Chapter One’ appeared in emboldened calligraphy. I stared, puzzled, until I finally understood. “There’s no other information,” I said. “No publisher details, no date of publication, no foreword from the author or anyone else. It’s just the story, nothing more.”

“Exactly,” Dopple said, showing me another book with the same lack of features. “Even the blurb is just a description of the story, no quotes or reviews from anyone.”

Intrigued, we both began to search through another twenty or so books with the same result. Upon discovering a few books that I’d read previously my curiosity intensified, and once I’d found a novel that not only had I once read but shared the exact same cover art, I was suddenly all the more fascinated. I showed this to Dopple and explained myself. “I know books get reprinted all the time, sometimes by different publishers, but this is definitely the same book I read before and not even the publisher logo is here.”

Dopple smiled. “That’s a good find. See, I wouldn’t have known that if you hadn’t told me. Thank you.”

I blushed a little at the compliment but continued with my train of thought. “It looks like everything related to non-fiction has been erased here. Is that Monobunny’s doing? I thought he was all about honesty and truth.”

“Who knows?” Dopple said, shoveling the pile of books back on the shelf. “But I think there’s some meaning behind it. Otherwise, why go to all the effort?”

I sighed, feeling my head throb. Ever since arriving here there were mysteries around every corner, taunting us, and I, with no idea where to even start, had left them aside. Why were we here? Who was the mastermind? What was the meaning of the newspaper article? The bronze statue? Monobunny’s cryptic remarks? The books? Even Mesmer had my mind in knots with his assertion that there were six among us who could potentially be the spy, and his question about Maribelle, whether she would be considered guilty if she’d been found with the means of the first murder hidden on her uniform. It felt like nothing was piecing together. And then there was my current point of wonder.

“Dopple, please tell me. Why did you ask me along?”

Dopple was unfazed, but paused before answering, nonetheless. “Three reasons: Firstly, I didn’t want to search the dome by myself. Secondly, I thought perhaps another pair of eyes might see something that I could miss. I’ve had enough of Mesmer’s inputs on the matter. You’ve already given me a tidbit of information about the novel you’d read, which may end up being a help in the end. Thirdly, I want to learn more about you, upon which I can reveal a few things about myself. Is that fair?”

“Um, yeah,” I replied, a little overwhelmed by such a confident and detailed answer.

“So let me ask you a question,” Dopple continued. “Why did you agree to come along?”

“I suppose I was curious,” I replied nervously. “I wanted to see what you’d do, and, um, I guess I want to learn more about you too. The way you worked out that card trick was impressive, and after what Mesmer told me about you, I guess I wanted to see if it was true.”

Dopple tilted her head at this and frowned slightly. “What did Mesmer say about me?”

I was confused. Dopple herself had insisted that I ask Mesmer why he was attached to her, claiming that his answer would surprise me. It stood to reason that she would know full well what his answer would be. “He said you were the most intelligent of us all. Oh, and that you might be our best hope.”

Dopple shook her head sadly. “I can’t believe he said that.”

“But he’s kind of right, isn’t he? You’re really smart. That much is obvious.”

“That has nothing to do with it,” Dopple said, appearing dejected. “Sorry, but I’d prefer if we didn’t mention that particular comment again.”

I was surprised by Dopple’s reaction and yearned to know more, but her demeanor told me I should refrain from prying any further. Now my next task was the one I’d been dreading the most – talking about myself. Our next stop was the rec room, which we found to be empty. I plucked up my courage and began my paltry tale.

I told of my youth, of the death of my parents and my eventual habitation with my uncaring aunt, of my life at school which I remembered little of. I spoke of being kicked out of the house and moving to my meagre apartment, the janitor position that I held and subsequently lost, my livelihood falling into disarray. We poked around the room at first, but soon sat on opposite sofas as I continued with my story. It was difficult to begin with, but became easier with each passing word. Dopple sat in silence throughout, attentive and composed. I had no idea how she could be interested in such pitiful matters. I felt a weight lift from me as I reached the end point, the moment at which I was inducted into the killing game. I finished with a long, drawn-out sigh, feeling refreshed but also saddened.

“Thank you for that,” Dopple said. “I can tell it was difficult for you, but I truly am grateful.”

“Thanks.” I smiled nervously. “This is the first time I’ve told anybody about myself.”

“I understand why you might have been apprehensive, but you have no reason to be ashamed. Were you afraid I might think less of you once you’d told me?”

“Yeah, if I’m honest.”

Dopple shook her head. “Well, that’s not the case. If anything, it shows that you’ve been able to overcome your past, at least in some measure. When I first saw you in the shackle chamber you were wracked with despair once the monitor began giving out information. The thought of others knowing of your past terrified you, didn’t it?”

I nodded.

“You’ve gotten a lot more confident in just a few short days.” Dopple smiled proudly. “You remarked how I haven’t been quite so friendly with you today. There’s a reason for that, although I can’t help but feel a bit guilty. You can correct me if you feel I’m wrong, but I think the Greyscale I met on the first day wouldn’t have had the courage to call me out on that.”

I furrowed my brow, giving Dopple’s comment some thought. “Yeah. You might be right.”

“Bit by bit, you’re becoming more independent,” she said firmly. “You’re speaking your mind more, for better or worse, and beginning to act of your own accord rather than follow the flow. A hermit might shy away, lose themselves in sorrow and grow even colder and more distant. You haven’t done that. When you made that comment downstairs about attacking me, I was actually kind of impressed. You came out with that, and sure, it probably wasn’t the right thing to say, but the important thing is that you came out and said something that nobody could expect, all of your own accord. I watched you initiate a conversation with Sanscript, not because you were pressured, but because you wanted to. You’re not going to get things right every time – not even those who have been social their entire lives do – but you’re making an effort, and the only way to go from here is up. Do you understand?”

I cupped my muzzle with a hoof and stared, transfixed by Dopple’s caring, hopeful eyes as tears threatened to form in my own. Everything she’d said made sense. But I had to ask one thing. “In the shackle room, you were the first one to approach me. And again, the next day, you invited me to come swimming with you. You could’ve been scared to death by the killing game, but you came to me. Why?”

Dopple appeared surprised by my question. She averted my gaze a little. “I was scared. I still am. But when I saw you, I felt that I needed to help you no matter what. I don’t really know why. Maybe, I felt that we had something in common.”

“But how?” I balked. “You’re famous and I’m a nobody.”

“I might be famous,” Dopple said sullenly, shrugging, “but that’s not all there is to it.” She sat upright and combed a hoof through her cloud-white mane. “Alright. Just as promised, I’ll tell you my story.

“I was born in Manehattan and raised by my mother, Solace, and my father, Dean Mammon. My parents were extremely wealthy thanks to my father’s business ventures, mostly in construction, but also some in agriculture, insurance and even a small hoof in restaurant chains. I don’t really know all the details. It was of little interest to me, and my father kept much of what he did to himself, neatly dividing his work life and family life. While not exactly a celebrity, he was well known in certain fields for his abilities as a shrewd investor, for being able to sense market fluctuations with startling accuracy, as well as for firing those he deemed unworthy without a second thought. He demanded the best and always got what he wanted. He knew just how far to push customers before they would think to back off, while treating his business partners with just enough respect to keep them in line. He was a master at reading others, their gestures, their facial expressions, and deducing what he could expect of them. He would work tirelessly and strike down anything that got in his way. With the way he was, it’s no wonder he earned himself a small empire.

“One day, while going for his routine medical check-up, he came across an earth pony nurse whom he thought irresistible, and charmed his way into her heart. That nurse’s name was Solace. A few years later they would marry, and a few years later still, I was born. My birth came as a surprise to them both since they’d been struggling to have a foal, and so I was doted upon like a princess. I was their little miracle.

“Unfortunately for my mother, she’d been taken ill whilst pregnant and remained under care. She remained in poor condition even after I was born, suffering from intense migraines, bouts of sickness, and nervous trembles that impaired her movement. As such, she remained at home and was seen to by a private physician, rather than sent to a general hospital. This went on for about three years until after I was born and she slowly began to recover, eventually regaining her full health. It seemed as if luck was finally on her side, until she died in an accident years later, falling to her death while sightseeing in the Griffon Kingdom. I was eight years old at the time.

“I didn’t accompany her on the trip, however, nor did my father. I don’t think their marriage was one of true love, more that my father wanted a trophy to place his foreleg around and my mother wanted a means to splash out on lavish luxuries. In fact, I think my father only wanted a wife as a means for a foal, one who would inherit his estate. I sometimes wonder how much longer their marriage would have lasted if I’d not been born.

“And so, my father and I were left alone. After my mother’s death he became all the more devoted to me, easing off on his work schedule to raise me. It might sound like a dream come true, that I might otherwise have been cast aside by my only family, but in reality I almost wish that had been the case.

“I’d been privately educated since I was five by some of the best tutors and professors around. It was unorthodox, but my father paid mind to no expense when it came to my education. You see, my father saw something in me, a potential for greatness. From a very young age I showed immense logical aptitude and high intelligence but also an ability to absorb and hold on to vast amounts of information. Not only that, but I shared my father’s natural ability to analyze others and deduce their emotions, intentions, and inclinations. In fact, my abilities in that regard were even further beyond his. For these reasons, I fascinated him. I wasn’t so much a daughter as a scientific experiment. My mother was always there to take the edge off these teachings and allow for some childish fun, at the disgruntled behest of my father. When she died, those times died with her. From then on, I was under the hoof of my father, destined to study, with the goalposts forever moving. It was all so he could transform me into what he dubbed The Ultimate Savant.

“My teachings were relatively simple to begin with, just high-level extensions of subjects that were taught in school. I wasn’t exactly averse to these things; in fact, I rather enjoyed my studies. But as time went on, I began to lament my seclusion, trapped in a great shiny mansion with no-one else to talk to but the same old faces. My father didn’t want me conversing with commoners. ‘The average pony is just a bundle of worthless nonsense,’ he would say. He thought that if I made friends with others my own age it’d impede my progress towards his desired goal. I had access to the gardens and was occasionally brought outside to dine in fine restaurants or sightsee in famous locations around the globe, but these excursions were also done in the name of education. I didn’t really know any different, but even I began to understand that something was wrong. I didn’t see any other foals like me, not anywhere. And any time I tried to make contact, my father would snap me back to his side and chastise me.

“When I was around twelve or so a new professor turned up to teach me about psychology, or rather, how to manipulate others. It didn’t appear that way at first, but it soon got to a point where even the tutor was becoming increasingly uncomfortable about the subject matter. He saw what my father was doing and felt it was unethical. My father, however, had money, so the professor kept quiet, at least for a few months. He stopped coming after that and I got a few new tutors that didn’t share the same moral compass.

“My studies became increasingly intense. I was forced to plough through all manner of exams and standardized tests. I’d do well, of course, far beyond what was expected of my age, but it wasn’t good enough. No, I needed to be the best. Whereas before I was showered with praised, called ‘gifted’, told I would change the world, now my accomplishments were unremarkable, decent, predictable. I tried harder, and harder, pouring every ounce of my brainpower into my work, desperate to feel validated. The effects were only temporary. Once the bar was raised it only became harder to pass over it.

“Eventually I grew disdainful of my treatment. Rather than push myself I would deliberately fail assignments and feign ignorance and stupidity in front of my professors. I thought if I stopped showing any signs of potential my father would give up altogether and I could be let loose upon the world. That didn’t happen. My father saw right through me and I only increased the problems I would come to face.

“I tried a third option: running away. One night, I took some supplies from the kitchen, packed them into a travel bag and flew out of my bedroom window into the streets of Manehattan. I planned to hide out in an abandoned factory. I knew it was abandoned because of a comment my father had made to a visitor a few weeks prior about its closure, with the company owners relocating to better suit their needs. With the factory as my temporary home, I could use some of my money to keep me going and look for a chance to offer myself up to foal services. In the state I was, coming from an upper-class environment, I’d never be able to pass myself off as in need of help, so I needed some time to deliberately impoverish myself in order to pass myself off as a poor, lost orphan.

“Not the best of plans, I’ll admit. I might’ve been able to come up with something better eventually, but I was desperate. I acted irrationally, and that was my downfall. Only a day after leaving I was pounced upon as I slept and dragged back to the mansion by force. It was my father. I still don’t know for sure how he managed to find me so quickly. Maybe he had a way of tracking me, either through a tag, magical aura, or through surveillance. Or maybe he knew me better than I gave him credit for. He could’ve remembered that he’d mentioned the factory in passing and put the pieces together. A scarier thought was that he deliberately mentioned it in front of me as a test, feeling that I was on the brink of rebellion and planting a seed of hope so that he could squash it at a moment’s notice. Whatever it was, after that, my means of escape were locked off altogether.

“He was angry, upset, but didn’t exactly scold me for running away. He kept telling me that this was for my own good and I should be more grateful, that so many other parents were lazy for not allowing their children to reach their true potential. He wanted me to be the best and reap all the benefits. He cried that day and held me in his hooves.”

Dopple paused, taking a few slow, methodical breaths. “I don’t know if he ever truly loved me, but I do think he fully believed he was doing what was right and just. He told me over and over again that any suffering I felt now was insignificant compared to the boundless joy and opportunities I would feel when I grew up. I… would like to think it meant more to him than just a boost to his ego or a gold star on his list of accomplishments.

“I became more obedient, repelled by the hopelessness of my seclusion and beckoned with the prospect of a brighter future. I wanted to know what lay before me and asked my father incessantly. ‘All in due time,’ he said. ‘As a filly, you may not grasp the importance of the things you will attain, but know that you have much to look forward to. You will stand tall above all others.’ It was just enough to spur me onwards and strive for greatness. It was hope… hope alone that kept me going. Hope: the most valuable and most dangerous of all things.

“By the time I was seventeen I could surpass every professor and tutor that father threw my way. I began to see flickers of terror in their eyes, minute expressions of panic and repulsion, as if they were conversing with a demon. Others grew weary and envious of me. The final few were disinterested, their minds forever hovering in their savings account. However, they all shared one thing in common: not a single one of them enjoyed my company. This was the future I had paved for myself with blood, sweat and tears.”

“But… how?” I asked. “Why didn’t any of your tutors like you? Was it because of your father or was there something wrong with them?”

“That’s sweet of you to say,” Dopple replied, smiling for the first time since beginning her story, “but the truth is, I was the problem. The mare you’re speaking to now is rather different from my younger self. Back then, nothing mattered more than the pursuit of knowledge. If they bored me, I would ignore them. If I felt they were wasting my time, I would cut them off. If they told me something I believed to be false, I would become angry and flippant. In some rare cases I would become insulting and derogatory. Even after I realized my failings it was all too much effort to stop myself. I was even more repulsive than my power-hungry father, whom I simultaneously loved and despised.

“I confronted him one evening, expressing how discouraged I was by my apparent state of revilement. To my surprise, he listened with the utmost concern. He pondered on it for a while, telling me to wait until morning for his final say on the matter. The very next day he dismissed my tutors – every last one. I was bewildered, racked with paranoia that this was just another ploy to… Well, I don’t know what. By that point the prospect of my studies coming to an end was merely a pipedream. Now, I was ready for the next step, staying by my father’s side as we shared his empire.”

Dopple sat back in her chair and laughed weakly. “You’re probably wondering, after all that, how the hell I ended up as a stage-show impersonator, right?”

I nodded gravely. “Well, yeah.”

Dopple sighed and licked her lips. “Well, that future my father had planned for me was indeed laid with gold and accolades. But that was the problem. I had the knowledge and the sense to drive businesses forward, to make educated decisions and address visionaries and geniuses on the same level while others in my position spoke in techno-babble and the control of the masses. I was more than capable, and I could’ve delved into any field of my choosing.

“But I was hopelessly passionless, broken inside by the life I’d led. My father kept me on a strict path, to earn, to absorb, to expand, and to dominate. My question was, to what end? And the answer was, there was none. Bigger. More. Those same moving goalposts I’d had to deal with my entire life were back. Now, I was set to forever chase that next number, because enough was never enough. The thought of living like that filled me with an indescribable dread. I yearned to feel something beyond the pleasures of wealth. I know that may come off as insulting to you, as someone who has been poor their entire life, but I can only express how I truly felt. Anyway, I eventually made a drastic decision; I ran away from home again.

“I went along with my father’s wishes for a while, gaining access to funds so I could start a new life. I won’t go into the details as it was a multitude of different decisions. Eventually though, after gaining my father’s trust, I was able to move out to a home in secret under the guise of a property venture. I tricked him, cut contact, and most importantly of all, changed my name to Dopple Ganger.”

“Wait,” I cut in with. “Dopple isn’t your real name?”

“Oh, it is,” she replied. “I had it officially changed by deed poll.”

“Then what was your original name?”

“I never really liked it,” Dopple said, sighing. “Buttercup.”

I snorted mirthfully. “I don’t know, I kind of like it.”

“Anyway, after moving away, changing my name and also my appearance,” Dopple lifted a few wisps of her frilly white mane with a hoof. “Believe it or not, this used to be long and flowing. I guess cutting it was a kind of juvenile rebellion to enrage my father. All in all, I wanted to remove myself from his shadow. I took up a small job performing at a comedy club. That was how I first got my start as an impersonator.

“Now why, you might ask? I suppose it seemed like a good way to find friends, make them laugh, not to mention low-brow enough for my father to be distraught. I guess I wanted him to love me even if I went against everything he had ever wanted for me, that he could just be happy that I was happy and support me, even if I was nothing like the daughter he’d envisioned.” Dopple exhaled, shaking her head. “It never happened. I… don’t know if I was just being a selfish brat, or if he got what he deserved. What do you think?”

I shrugged nervously. “I don’t know.”

“Me either. Maybe I’ll figure that out one day.”

The room was quiet for a while, Dopple staring off into space. Her story had left me feeling simultaneously drained and invigorated. She had poured out her heart to me, and as enraptured as I was, I felt my soul being dragged into a dark, sorrowful pit. I had no words to aid her.

“Well,” Dopple said, getting up. “That’s all in the past.”

“Wait, I have a question. You said you became an impersonator, so…”

“Oh.” Dopple chortled. “I forgot about that part. You see, as much as I was adept at detecting even the slightest emotional leak in someone, I was also able to mimic them. The times I spent alone I would sometimes imitate my tutors in front of the mirror, trying to replicate every last facet of theirs, even their voice. It brought me a semblance of joy to make fun of them behind their back, and I got wrapped up in my own little dream world. Years went by and I got better. I never thought it was special, but the more I shared my talent as an adult, the more I realized how uncanny my abilities were. I would sneak a word in to a waiter or waitress at a ball or social event and watch them gawk in astonishment and amusement as I picked apart a rather unlikable guest. It was the first time I’d ever truly had fun.”

“Can you show me?” I asked giddily.

“Oh, a demonstration?” Dopple’s eyes narrowed and her nostrils flared. She stormed toward me with a sky-rending glare. “Don’t you dare think to mock me, cretin! I’ll have you know, ‘snap’ is a card game that tests the very limit of one’s intellect! Its depth is immeasurable, but I’m sure a lesser being such as yourself couldn’t even begin to grasp that fact.”

I cowered into the other side of the sofa, Dopple’s eyes mad and fierce. As I stopped and stared, I finally realized. “Mesmer?”

Dopple’s demeanor transformed in an instant and she held a hoof up to her mouth, chuckling. “You like my impression of him?”

I was stunned. Although Dopple’s voice was admittedly a tiny bit higher, her version of Mesmer was uncannily close to the real deal, the miniscule flinches of his cheeks and his guttural speech patterns were replicated perfectly. I had no doubt if I’d heard the performance with my eyes closed, I would have assumed it to be Mesmer in a heartbeat.

“That was incredible.”

“Thanks,” Dopple said cheerfully. “I can do other ones as well if you’d like.” She cleared her throat. “Hey Sanscript…” Dopple licked her lips and winked in a seductive manner, slapping her flank playfully. “I’ve got a game we can play. First you put on a blindfold, then you have to guess what’s in front of you by how it tastes.”

My heart caught in my throat. “Th-th-that sure sounds j-just like Inky, huh?” I laughed nervously, looking away in a vain effort to keep myself together.

“Oh, I’m sorry!” Dopple said pleadingly, blushing hard. “I’m not like that at all, I promise! Just, when I’m doing an impression of someone, I get caught up in the act. I completely become them. I guess I should’ve toned that one down.”

“Y-yeah, maybe,” I replied, sweat suddenly beginning to drip from my forehead.

“Well here, I’ll make this the last one,” Dopple offered, still a little flustered. “Let’s try someone who’s not in the dome.” She struck a pose with an air of power and regality, extending her wings to full bore. “Citizens of Equestria!” she blared in a commanding tone. “We must remain vigilant against those who would seek to destroy us! Not least of all, the terrifying banana thieves! I shall see to it that they never steal one of my precious fruits again! Should they cross me, I’ll send them to the moon!”

“Oh,” I uttered. “Um, sorry, but I don’t know who that is.”

“You don’t?” Dopple looked remarkedly confused. “That’s… the first time anyone’s said that about that particular impression.”

“It’s fine,” I said, waving a hoof dismissively. “Like I said, I pretty much kept to myself, never really got involved in the outside world. I probably don’t know them because of that.”

Dopple appeared worried by my statement, though she quickly passed it off due to my explanation. I felt bad for not having even the slightest clue who she was trying to impersonate. It appeared she had been making a concerted effort. Even still, there was no doubt that Dopple deserved the title of Ultimate Impersonator. It was just a shock that this was her apparent claim to fame when she had so many other talents. I could understand though, why she wouldn’t want those to be her defining feature, since she lamented her upbringing.

We poked around the rec room, finding nothing of interest except for the fact that, just as with the books in the library, all mention of publisher and manufacture information had been wiped clean from the pinball machine and board games, leaving only their rules and base components. It was an odd observation, but I couldn’t begin to discern whatever deeper meaning it could have.

The utility room was next, nothing out of the ordinary except for the exercise bar that Inky had put up previously. Seeing no harm, we left it in place. The cupboard contained a selection of cleaning equipment: cloths, mops, brooms, floor cleaner, all general supplies that appeared untouched from our initial tour. I wondered then if Maribelle would volunteer to become the dome’s personal maid. She had shied away from such duties so far, though it was still early days, and there were more pressing issues to attend to.

We strolled into the laundry room which was predictably empty and silent. Dopple appeared notably attentive as she strode around, pacing down the same pathways multiple times as if expecting a new revelation. My attention was instead pulled to the machines that were housed within, great towering, metallic, clunky behemoths. They were akin to those you’d expect in a launderette, but with an archaic design. They had time-worn yellow buttons and a compartment that jutted outwards, presumably allowing for the direct addition of fabric conditioner into the tumbler. Again, I considered them wholly excessive, especially since only two occupants regularly wore clothes. Not only were there many, but they were possibly even big enough for a pony to fit neatly inside.

Searching the MonoMart felt redundant at this point. We’d all gone in and out so many times it wasn’t likely we’d find something. But still, we did so anyway, with Dopple leading the charge. Her attention eventually fell on the rack of weapons and the stock numbers painted on the floor tiles.

“Something wrong?” I asked. “It’s not time for us to count them yet.”

“I know. I just have this terrible feeling.”

“You think someone tampered with the numbers?”

Dopple shook her head. “I’ve had them memorized since I first read them. Not only that, but I’ve corroborated this with Dish Panner, Elsie and Dr Scalpel, as they were here while the numbers were first written, and we all had the same list. I can’t be the only one to know them by heart, either.”

“That’s a good thing, right?”

“Yes, but I’m still not convinced it ensures our safety.”

We left soon after and began our lap of the dome’s open spaces around the hotel and MonoMart, nothing but the ominous bronze statue and the cloud that hovered forever above it to require our attention. It had been a hopeless endeavor, and Dopple appeared visibly discouraged.

“I don’t think this idea will go down well,” she said, biting her lip, “but I think we should be extending our preventative measures.”

“How?”

“I’m not sure. Like we discussed before, the safest possible way to live here would be for everyone to remain together at all times, but that would drive some of us mad. I’m thinking we could have regular room searches and designated curfews, but that’s asking a lot. We’ve already had issues with the weapon checks as it is, and piling more responsibilities on top of that will be overwhelming.” She sighed. “There’s just no easy answer, is there?”

We parted ways, each taking to our rooms to rest before the evening’s weapon check. I spent my time gazing endlessly at the ceiling as I let my mind wander between visions of merriment and death. I eventually fell into a peaceful sleep.

…And was woken by a steady knock at the door and my name being called. Looking to my alarm clock, I could see it was almost time.

“Don’t tell me you fell asleep,” Dopple said chidingly. “You’re lucky I came to get you. Mesmer would go crazy if you were late.”

We walked downstairs towards the rec room. Dopple was just about to push the door open when she stopped suddenly. She furrowed her brow and placed an ear up against the door, two distinct, deep voices emanating from the room. I crept forward and followed suit, catching the middle of a conversation. It was Yoko and Mesmer.

“–with a little respect. You’re making the others nervous.”

“We should all be a little nervous in this place. And as far as I’m concerned I would rather everyone hate me than see their corpses turn up.”

“Don’t act like you can’t be better. You think you’re the authority figure here, but you’re just embarrassing yourself.”

“I must be having déjà vu. Why do you always have a problem with someone trying to lead us? Would you prefer absolute anarchy?”

“Don’t talk shit. Of course I don’t want that.”

“But you admit to thinking I’m just another Shetland?”

“You sure act like it, smashing a plate and scaring Button half to death. Those shards could’ve gone in his eyes but of course, you’re ever so caring, right?”

“Don’t exaggerate. And are you perhaps insinuating that an act of rage is the precursor to murder? I think you of all ponies should think twice about that.”

“You know, I honestly hoped this would go differently. I genuinely thought that maybe you’d apologize and come to your senses. But no, you’re even more pig-headed than I thought.”

“See it however you want to. I’m just trying to do the right thing.”

“You mean by manipulating others? If you think I don’t see what you’re doing to Greyscale you’ve got another–”

Dopple opened the door abruptly and stepped inside. It took a concerted effort to keep my balance and not fall headfirst into the room. “Oh, sorry, are we interrupting something?” she said, looking abashed.

“No, it’s fine,” Yoko said. “Hey there, buddy,” he said with renewed cheer as I entered. He was standing close to Mesmer’s side, almost looming over him. “I guess you finally decided who gets to be your girlfriend, huh?”

“Yoko, behave,” Dopple said sternly.

“I see you like the scary ones,” Yoko said with a chuckle.

Sanscript arrived a few minutes later and the five of us set off for the MonoMart. Mesmer kept to himself, apparently unwilling to even address me, while Yoko remained relatively chatty. A part of me wanted to confront them on their behavior but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Mesmer, Yoko, Dopple, Copper… It was hard to accept that the ponies I felt closest to could have such feuds with one another.

As we marched towards the store’s corner I noticed Sanscript constantly checking over his shoulder, appearing a little on edge.

“Y’alright there?” Yoko asked.

“Oh, me?” Sanscript exclaimed, jumping to attention. “Yes, yes.”

“You seem to be expecting someone.”

“That blasted zebra,” Sanscript muttered, shaking his head. “She won’t leave me alone! I keep thinking she’s around the next corner, ready to pounce!” He turned to me, gravely, his lips pursed with a stone-like seriousness. “I really am beginning to think she might like me.”

Yoko snorted with laughter. “Why don’t you just go along with her advances? You could make a great couple.”

“Over my dead body!” Sanscript blared. He cleared his throat. “It can’t be done, I’m afraid.”

“Can’t?” Yoko asked. “Why can’t it?”

Sanscript’s jaw fell and he struggled for words. “I meant to say it won’t be done.” Sanscript’s delivery of such a phrase was as awkward as could be expected. “Look, can you please just drop it? We have an important task to take care of.”

Together, Mesmer and Sanscript levitated the collection of knives, shears and other tools from their racks and rested them on the floor, allowing us all to compare our count with the painted numbers.

“Same again,” Mesmer said once the task was done, everything matching up as expected. “We can’t let ourselves get complacent, though. One day we might not be so lucky.” He began lifting them back into place.

“I was just wondering,” Yoko said, “how long you’re planning on keeping this up?”

Mesmer stopped for a moment, his eyebrows falling, before continuing as before. “For as long as it takes.”

“As long as what takes?”

“We escape.” Mesmer shunted an axe into place harshly. “I see no reason to stop until then.”

Yoko exhaled. “And what if we don’t?”

“Then we keep doing this every day for the rest of our lives,” Mesmer said matter-of-factly, his eyes focused on his work. “I’d ask if you have a better idea, but I’m not so sure that’s what you have to offer. No, you strike me as the kind of stallion who feels that you must rebel,” he said, emphasizing his final words with a deliberate sting, shunting a crowbar back into place.

“Mesmer,” Dopple snapped, stepping up to him with a harsh glare. “Stop it. Yoko, leave it.”

Yoko laughed sardonically. “You really went there, huh? I spent most of my life under my master’s tutelage and never once spoke out against him. You know why? Because he was a good leader. He knew how to be a mean old bastard while still commanding respect. You think everyone here likes you?” His eyes flickered over to Sanscript then back again. “I’m not the only one who has a problem with you. Maribelle, Button, Elsie, and I wonder who else? Quite the target you’ve got painted on your head.”

Mesmer’s demeanor drooped ever so slightly. He still hadn’t turned to look at Yoko. “Their safety is more important.”

“Exactly!” Yoko cried. “And as the saying goes, there’s safety in numbers, but only if those numbers stick together. Without a great leader, a group can only drift apart. Either do more for everyone else or step down.”

“Or what?” Mesmer growled.

“Mesmer! Yoko!” Dopple commanded, spreading her wings and stepping between them. “I won’t say it again!”

Yoko sighed. “Alright, alright. This isn’t fair on the rest of you, is it? I’ll be good, I promise.”

Sanscript and I exchanged worried glances. The atmosphere had grown tense and dull. After standing in silence outside the MonoMart, waiting for it to finally close, I took to my room. Considering we’d be meeting up for the morning check, an early night was in order. I took a shower and fought to fall asleep, my mind full of unrest. What I wanted most of all, in that moment, was for my friends to finally get along. I wanted a happy family.

I’d just stepped into the shower when I heard a distant thud, like a hammer going through a block of plaster. I jumped a little, turned off the showerhead and began to listen intently. I stood for almost a minute in complete silence, waiting for the next noise, my heart pounding. My first instinct was that someone had knocked on my door to get my attention, but I knew it wasn’t the same sound. My wall? I considered that someone was trying to get my attention from the gym, and if that was the case, it was likely to be Yoko.

I dried myself off and left my room, my alarm clock reading 06:11. I looked through the peephole, checking that nobody was waiting for me on the other side before slipping out and into the gym.

Nothing. I pottered around, checking behind the equipment for a sign of someone or something. I walked around aimlessly, as if the answer was going to jump out at me. Then I heard another noise, this time a series of thuds, but much quieter than before. My pulse quickened. I could feel it in my bones – something terrible had happened. But instead of leaping to the rescue I was rooted to the floor, my fear bubbling up inside of me. I stood in front of the gym door for almost a minute, the tiniest change to the silence drawing a terrifying picture in my mind. With a burst of courage, I opened the door and immediately leapt in terror.

“Greyscale!” Lancet exclaimed, as startled as I was. “What’s going on?”

“I don’t know,” I replied after catching my breath. “There was some kind of noise. I thought it might have come from in here.”

“Then you heard it too?” Lancet was shaking, her eyes darting about as if searching for a roaming killer. “There’s no body discovery announcement.” She clenched her eyes, fighting back tears. “Sorry. I just… I’m assuming the worst. We should still be careful, though. It sounded like someone went through a wall.”

The two of us walked cautiously down the hallway, passing Dopple’s room. I tapped lightly on her door. Come on. Get up! Please be okay! I knocked harder. “Dopple, are you in there!?”

The door opened and Dopple stepped out. She quickly took stock of Lancet and I and nodded affirmatively. “We need to move,” she said brashly. “And all three of us, stick together.”

“What’s going on?” I asked.

“I don’t know, but we need to find out. If it’s what I think it is, then we have to be careful.”

I felt newly invigorated with Dopple at my side. With her around, I was sure we could tackle just about anything.

My self-assurance lasted only a matter of seconds. After creeping down the hallway and turning the corner, Lancet let out an ear-piercing scream and fell down in shock.

A door burst open from behind us. “What’s going on!?” Elsie yelled, racing towards me and pinning me to the wall with surprising strength. “Greyscale, you fiend! What did you do to…?”

Her voice trailed off as the four of us looked on in disbelief. I didn’t think it could be true, didn’t want it to be true. I had to know. I had to be certain. I wrenched myself away from Elsie’s grasp and bolted forward, further down the hallway. The closer I got, the more the image in front of me solidified and my blood ran like ice. I stood there, trembling, just a few feet from where the corpse lay, bloodied, battered and broken, as if an eldritch monster had ripped it to pieces with razor-sharp talons. Pieces of bone, flesh and organs had spilled onto the carpet. I didn’t even know a single pony could produce that much blood. I reached forward, as if to save them, to resuscitate them, even though I knew it was useless. That’s when Dopple pulled me back as Monobunny’s voice confirmed the inevitable.

*DING DONG DONG DING*

“A body has been discovered! Please make your way to the hallway outside Antonio Rephael’s room! After a certain amount of time has passed the murder trial will commence! Now go forth! Gather clues! Find the culprit! Your very lives depend on it! Pu-hu-hu!”

“No…” I heard Lancet mutter. “Not again. This can’t be happening.”

“L-l-look!” Elsie sputtered, pointing towards the victim’s neck. It looked as if a small, burned twig was poking out. I couldn’t even discern what it truly was. With her magic, Elsie carefully pulled it free, revealing a bloodstained combat knife with a gleaming blade about ten inches long. Dark blood oozed from the gaping wound like water from a faucet. “H-h-how can this be!? W-we m-made so sure that… that…”

Elsie’s eyelids fluttered and she collapsed to the floor, the knife falling with her. Dopple sat against the wall, shaking her head and muttering to herself. Lancet began sobbing wildly, turning away from the horrendous sight before us. I, meanwhile, could only stare in horror, barely able to stand.

Yoko was dead.

Author's Note

So this is the third chapter in a row where I've...

Oh, I'd better not say. It might give it all away.

Victim number two has been slain. Who could have done this?