Cutie Mark Crusaders: Accidental Harbingers of the Apocalypse

by JimmySlimmy

Rating: teen
Tags: My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark, Death, Comedy, Cutie Mark Crusaders, Violence
Length: 9994

The only thing standing between a trio of insatiably curious fillies and Equestria's absolute quasi-thermonuclear auto-annihilation is Twilight's idea of operational security. Between you and me? I don't think Equestria has a freakin' chance.

What do you get when you combine an empty Ponyville library, government cost cutting on strongbox locks, and a particularly mischievous unicorn? Sweetie Belle with a top-secret list of military tele-spell network addresses.

What do you get when you combine three clever fillies with terrible official password discipline? The Cutie Mark Crusaders with access to the central strategic armaments computer.

What do you get when you combine two-factor activation with a tremendously short-sighted and very arrogant Celestia? Nothing good.

Takes place in the same universe as, and is set immediately after (but isn't "canon" to), Fluttershy: Royal Game Warden (?). You don't need to read that one. You should, because it's a Certified Hood Classic, but you don't have to.

Death and Violence tags are general. No blood and guts, but if you're faint of heart, there's an intentionally squicky sequence that probably hits a lot harder if one has a fear of hypodermic needles, so be aware.

Published 2021-06-17 12:20:01 UTC
Last updated 2021-06-17 12:20:01 UTC

Or, The CMC Do A Quasi-Religious 100 Million Kelvin Whoopsie-Daisy

“CLUNK.” The walls of the clubhouse rattled as the gargantuan cardboard box slammed onto the cheap table, falling out of Sweetie Belle’s field.

“A box?” Apple Bloom squinted at the object currently bending the table. “You dragged us all out here for a box?”

“No – huff – it’s not just a box.” Sweetie Belle took a few deep breaths to steady herself, horn steaming from the effort of hauling up the sizable load. “It’s way cooler than a box.”

“It definitely looks like a box.” Scootaloo frowned. “And last time I checked we didn’t get any marks from ‘Cutie Mark Crusaders: Basic Topological Mathematics’ the first time, so I don’t know why you brought a box again.”

“No, it’s, ugh, it’s what’s in the box.” Sweetie Belle rolled her eyes, levitating a pair of safety scissors out of a drawer. “Trust me, this is going to be totally great.”

“Oh.” Scootaloo sat back on her haunches. “Okay.” She coughed once. “Uh, Sweetie Belle, are you going to be, like, keeping the box afterwards?”

“What? No. It’s just a box.” Sweetie Belle made a few precise slices with the scissors, swiping through the tape holding the edges together. “What, do you want it or something?”

“Yes!” Scootaloo replied, a little too eagerly. “Uh, I mean, uh–” Scootaloo scratched her head with a hoof. “I, uh, could use that for, uh, cool stuff. Like skate ramps. If you don’t mind.”

The other two stared at her for a second.

“Please?’ she added.

“Uh.” Apple Bloom shrugged. “I reckon that’s fine, Scoots. Right, Sweetie?”

“Sure…?” said Sweetie Belle, shrugging noncommittally as she put the scissors back up. Her field surrounded the box. “But enough about the box, because you two have just got to see this!” With a flourish, she swept the box up into the air, flinging it behind the girls to reveal–

“A spellgrammer?” Scootaloo sighed theatrically, smacking a hoof into her face in a show of discontent. “You got us all excited about some stupid spellgrammer?”

“Yeah, Sweetie Belle.” Apple Bloom cocked her head in confusion. “Ain’t there one just like this in Miss Cheerilee’s office? I just can’t see why this is so exciting.”

“Uh, no!” Sweetie Belle draped herself over her new purchase, covering it up to protect it like a mother cat over her kittens. “And how dare you! The one in Miss Cheerilee’s office is definitely not ‘jus’ laihk this wun,’ for your information."

“Hey, watch it! I don’t talk like that!” Apple Bloom snarled, flattening her ears. “And what’s the difference, then, misses prim and proper?”

“The difference is Miss Cheerilee’s spellgrammer is a total dinosaur that, like, catches on fire once a week, Apple Bloom.” Sweetie Belle pulled back onto the ground. “And this one is a top of the line General Magics TGM-80, with twice the memory, integrated display, and, best of all,” she pulled a connected doohickey around to the front of the device “a 968 magibaud tele-coupler!”

“Right.” Scootaloo raised an eyebrow. “Can I get that in, like, Ponish, please?”

Sweetie Belle sighed. “It’s way better, way faster, and we can do cool stuff over the telespell network with it.” She looked around. “Speaking of, did you two ever get that phone line put in?”

Apple Bloom nodded and pointed to the corner of the room, where a cheap bakelite hoofset sat on the floor. “What, ya’ need to make a phone call or something?”

Sweetie Belle levitated the hoofset towards the desk, magic receding to focus on the cord’s connection to the phone. “No, I just need the, er–” the cord came out with a “pop,” shooting a few magical sparks across the room. “–cable.” She grinned sheepishly. “I, uh, guess I should have checked to make sure it was removable first, I suppose.”

“Uh-huh.” Scootaloo eyed her warily. “Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”

“Yeah, definitely.” She pulled open the cover of the tele-coupler with a hoof, placing the frayed wires into the proper receptacles and sealing the connections with a light fizzle of solder meltingly hot magic. “It’s pretty easy stuff. I read all about it in the magazines before I bought this out of the Spell Shack catalog.”

“Yeah, about that.” Scootaloo ran her eyes over the tan painted metal of the spellgrammer. “Aren’t these things, like, totally expensive? How did you afford this, anyway?’

“That was the easy part.” Sweetie Belle closed the cover back up, ducking under the table to find the dangling power cables. “I just did what I always do to make money.”

“Lemonade stand?” offered Scootaloo.

“Yard sale?” added Apple Bloom.

“Theft!” answered Sweetie Belle. She put the plugs into the receptacles. They sparked faintly. Unsurprisingly, the wiring for a wooden shack in the middle of a field built by children verged heavily towards “terrifyingly bad.”

“Wait, what? Theft?” Apple Bloom backed up, eyes narrowing. “You mean to tell me you stole this thing?’

“What? No, of course not.” Sweetie Bloom pulled back from under the table, eyes rolling. “I didn’t steal the computer. Do you really think I could sneak this out of a store? It’s as big as I am!”

Scootaloo shrugged. That was fair enough, she supposed. “Then what did you steal?”

“Diamonds!” Sweetie Belle rubbed her chin. “Well, actually, it’s more like ‘misrepresented my intentions,’ I guess, since sis just gives them to me.”

“Your sister gives you diamonds?” Apple Bloom asked incredulously. “Like, sparkle-sparkle diamonds? On Tiara’s butt diamonds?”

“Yeah!” Sweetie Belle flipped a few switches on the front of the spellgrammer. Something inside spooled to life, and a faint tingle of magic emanated from the metal box. “Rarity never sells most of her gems because she says it would be an, uh–” she held a poofy forelock of her mane down, putting on her best impression of her sister “–a dreadful abuse of my Celestia-given magical talents, dear, and most ungenerous at that, darling.” Sweetie Belle snorted in laughter. “So I just ask if I can borrow some to give to Spike when I see him. Then I sell them. It’s the easiest thing ever!”

“I, uh, guess?” Apple Bloom shook her head. “I hav’ta agree with Rarity, though, it does seem a little wrong.”

“Look,” Sweetie Belle huffed with a sigh, pulling a chair over to the desk. “Rarity is the one who’s the Element of Generosity, not me. As far as I’m concerned, it’s fair game for me to do whatever I want with the literal thousands of rocks sis digs out of the ground, okay?”

Scootaloo looked uneasy. “Yeah, but, I mean–”

Sweetie Belle wheeled around, cutting Scootaloo off. “Look, do you want to see the cool stuff or not?”

The other two shrank away. Scootaloo spoke first. “Uh, I mean, I guess so?”

“Then shut up about the diamonds and open my saddlebag while I get this thing running.” Her horn lit, fiddling with a few dials on the front of the box. A light turned from to red to green, and she punched a button on the front of the display. It quietly hummed to life, displaying all the expected signs of a healthy spellgrammer.

GENERAL MAGICS BASIC MAGI-FOUNDATIONAL SYSTEM

VERSION 16.02.223

ONBOARD STORAGE …. 12 KILOSCROLLS OK

MAGNETIC STORAGE … 144 KILOSCROLLS OK

WARNING: UNLICENSED TELESPELL CONNECTION: PLEASE CONTACT GENERAL MAGICS FOR LICENSING INFORMATION. CONTINUED USAGE IS UNLAWFUL.

“Unlawful?” Apple Bloom raised an eyebrow. “I ain’t looking to get tossed in jail, Sweetie Belle.”

Sweetie Belle waved a hoof in dismissal. “Only if we get caught. And they don’t go after foals anyway.”

In the meantime, Scootaloo did as she was told. “What am I looking for in here?” Scootaloo poked her muzzle into the bag. “This brown book?” she added, muffled.

“Yeah, that’s the one. Pull it out and put it on the table, please.” Sweetie Belle put her hooves on the touch-board.

Scootaloo removed it from the bag and put it on the table. It tasted like corduroy and dust. Gross. “What do you need a book for?”

Apple Bloom picked up the book in a hoof. “Forget that, Scootaloo, what the heck kind of book is this, anyway?” She eyed the cover. “There’s no title, just a bunch of numbers and a big government crest on the front.” She turned the book over, looking at the spine, which still had no title, but did say, in bright red lettering, MOST VERY SPECIAL SECRET. She frowned. “Sweetie Belle, I reckon we’re not supposed to be lookin’ at this here book. Just where in the Sam Hill did you get this thing from from?”

“The library.” Sweetie Belle thought for a moment. “I mean, technically I think it’s not from the library, but it was still in the library.”

Scootaloo took another look at the book, which was, upon closer inspection, marked with exactly the same “crossed bolts” seal as the guardspony recruitment posters. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Sweetie Belle sat back into her chair. “Alright, you know how Twilight hasn’t come downstairs in, like, a week?”

Both other ponies nodded.

“Well, I went into the library, and Spike asked me if I could watch it for a little bit while he ran off to the store, because he needed, like–” she scratched her head with a hoof “–nasal spray for Twilight, or something, right?” Sweetie Belle shrugged. “Anyway, once he left I looked around the restricted section they don’t let us in, which was like totally lame because it just had a bunch of books with ponies kissing on the front, but then I found this locked drawer in the very back row of books.”

“And?” Scootaloo asked, already more impressed with this whole project. Anything involving restricted books was already shaping up to be pretty wicked, albeit the few she had managed to sneak out were decidedly not about spellgrammers. “Did you pick the lock or something?”

“What? No, I can’t pick locks. What am I, some kind of burglar?” Sweetie Belle scoffed. “I just used the key under the desk. It doesn’t fit quite right, so I don’t know if it’s actually the right key, but it must be close enough that you can jiggle the lock open pretty easily. There were a bunch of books like this one in the drawer, and none of them had titles, so I just grabbed the first one I saw and put it into my bags.”

“Okay, so, weird restricted book, crazy drawer.” Apple Bloom picked up the book, flipping it to a random page. Rather than the esoteric spell diagrams or personal diary she expected, however, the book was full of apparently nonsensical combinations of numbers and words. “‘Citadel-Equation-Merging-Violet-Transit-Finality-Zero-Zero-Zero?’ What is this stuff, some kind of incantation?” She furrowed her brow. “This isn’t some kind of crazy dark magic, is it? Ain’t that something we already tried?”

“It’s not dark magic, Apple Bloom. It’s tele-coupler routing spellgrams.”

Scootaloo and Apple Bloom stared blankly at the unicorn, who might as well have been speaking Bitalian for all it was worth.

“It, uh…” Sweetie Belle thought for a moment. “It’s like an address, right? It’s what lets this spellgrammer find another spellgrammer on the telespell network.”

“Okay, and?” Scootaloo took a look at the book. It was just as inscrutable to her as it was to Apple Bloom. “What’s so cool about that?”

Sweetie Belle grabbed the book. “It’s cool because this is the government’s address book, so it’s full of government spellgrammers full of cool stuff.”

“Like?”

“Liiiiike,” Sweetie Belle flipped the page to a section marked CANTERLOT. “Oh, I don’t know, have you ever wanted to, say, see how much cake Princess Celestia actually eats in a day?”

“Uh, not really, no.” Apple Bloom shrugged. “I reckon that’s her business, and I figure it’s a mite bit cruel to make fun of somepony with a bad eating habit.”

“Ugh! You’re no fun.” Sweetie Belle rolled her eyes. “Okay, how about we reveal the Wonderbolt’s upcoming travel schedule ahead of time? You’d like that, right, Scootaloo?”

“I mean, yeah, I suppose, but, uh,” Scootaloo rubbed the back of her head with a hoof, “I can’t really go anywhere, so that’s not super useful.”

Sweetie Belle huffed. “You two are shamefully dull. How about one of you two try and come up with something cool, hmm?”

“Okay, uhhhhhh…” Scootaloo rubbed her chin thoughtfully. “How about we find some dirt on some of the ponies in town? That might be fun.”

“Like who?” Sweetie Belle cocked her head. “It would really be best if we got somepony from Canterlot, since that’s where most of these spellgrammers are.”

“Oh!” Apple Bloom brightened up. “We could, uh, look up Twilight! She’s from Canterlot, right?”

“Yeah!” Scootaloo nodded eagerly. “Yeah, I bet we can find all kinds of stuff on her.”

“Like what?” Sweetie Belle frowned. “Most government records aren’t exactly fun stuff, you know. Just stuff like birth certificates, blood type, stuff like that.”

Apple Bloom paused for a moment. “Reckon they’ve got arrest records?”

Ah. Now that did sound like fun.

“Dang! Just a bunch of dumb soldier stuff again! Where’s the cool stuff?”

Sweetie Belle mashed the twin sticks of her touch-board forwards, clearing the screen of a battalion worth of trooper’s pay records and returning to a blinking address prompt.

“Are you sure they even have stuff like that?” Scootaloo turned the page in the book, having exhausted every entry on that side. “Maybe they don’t keep arrest records on spellgrammers.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Sweetie Belle rolled her eyes. “It’s the Legal Ministry’s spellgrammers! Of course they have arrest records.”

“Uh, Sweetie Belle?” Apple Bloom looked again at the cover. “You sure this is the Legal Ministry’s book?”

“Yeah.” Sweetie Belle pointed at the embossed crest. “That’s the Legal Ministry’s crest, after all.”

“You sure?” It did look awful close to the one on those guardspony posters, after all.

“Yeah, duh!” Sweetie Belle scoffed. “Don’t you remember from the civics lessons? Two crossed bolts is the Legal Ministry. It was on the test last week.”

“Didn’t you fail that test?” Scootaloo pointed out.

“No, I most definitely didn’t fail that test, Scootaloo.” Sweetie Belle shot back. She had made a totally respectable sixty-six. Decidedly not a fail.

Apple Bloom shrugged. “Okay, Sweetie Belle. Whatever you say.” She looked a little farther down the page, eye’s brightening in hope. “Oh, hang on! This one sounds important!”

“Which one?” Sweetie Belle craned over to look at the book.

Apple Bloom pointed with a hoof. “This one right here!” She ran a hoof under the entry. “P.U.D.D.I.N Canterlot.”

“‘Puddin’ Canterlot?” Scootaloo raised an eyebrow. “Why the heck would the Legal Ministry care about desserts?”

“It’s an acronym, Scootaloo, although I don’t have any idea what it means.” Sweetie Belle turned back to the spellgrammer. “But acronyms are always important. I’m betting that’s our spellgrammer.” She input the initial syntax of the connection request with the touch-board.

BMFS/spellgram/telejack.con/route/

“Apple Bloom?” She turned away from the screen. “You mind reading out the routing spellgram?”

“Surely don’t mind.” She peered in. It was the same one she read out at random from earlier. What were the chances? “Uh, it’s, ‘Citadel-Equation-Merging-Violet-Transit-Finality-Zero-Zero-Zero.”

Sweetie Belle punched in the rest of the request, hooves flicking across the touch-board’s sticks with the light clicks of brand new micro switches.

BMFS/spellgram/telejack.con/route/CIT-EQU-MRG-VLT-TRNS-FIN-0-0-0/run

The spellgrammer hummed for a few long seconds. The display went black.

“Whoa!” Sweetie Belle recoiled back from the screen. “That’s definitely not normal.” She scratched her head. “The spellgrammer didn’t send an identification or anything. I wonder if it–”

A single flashing prompt appeared in the middle of the screen. The rest remained blank.

“Oh, dang.” Scootaloo rubbed at her eyes as if trying to clear them. “This looks weird.”

“Yeah.” Sweetie Belle sat back up straight, hooves moving back to the touch-board. “I’ve never seen anything like it.” She pressed a stick forward. A single letter appeared on screen, but nothing else changed.

“Well, the little bar is flashing, right?” Scootaloo pointed at the screen. “So it’s probably wanting something, right?”

“Oh, duh!” Sweetie Belle knocked the side of her head with a hoof. “It wants a passcode, obviously.” She sat back in the chair. “Phew! Dang, this is important.”

“Passcode?”

“Yeah.” Sweetie Belle checked through the book. Passcodes were, much to her disappointment, not included. “Like a word or number you have to put in to get to the spellgrammer on the other side. It’s how you protect stuff.”

“Oh.” Scootaloo waited a moment. “Aren’t you, uh, going to put it in?”

“What? Scootaloo, I don’t – ugh.” She theatrically put her head to the table in overwrought despair. “Scootaloo, I don’t know the passcode. That’s what makes it a passcode.”

“Huh.” Apple Bloom thought for a moment. “Do you think it’s something obvious? I know sis hides the key to our house under a rock where she can find it if she needs to, but it ain’t exactly real hidden.”

“Really?” Scootaloo was suddenly very interested, eyes wide. “Wow! That’s so clever! Which rock?”

“Oh, uh, I don’t reckon I remember.” Apple Bloom narrowed her eyes. “Why do ya’ want to know?”

“Just curious!” Scootaloo giggled nervously. “Not like I want to get into your house or anything! But which one?”

Apple Bloom stared at her strangely. “Scootaloo, you don’t have any kind of connection to all that missing apple butter, would you?”

“Uuuuuhhhh…” Scootaloo spread her stubby wings into a shrug, grinning a little too wide. “No?”

Ignoring the latest antics from Ponyville’s resident (possibly elective) street urchin, Sweetie Belle turned around in her chair. “Say that again, Bloom?”

“What, the thing about apple butter?” Apple Bloom cocked her head. “Yeah, we lost a bunch of jars of it from the pantry a week ago. We were fixin’ to go talk to the constable about it.”

“No, not that.” Sweetie Belle waved a hoof. “The thing about it being something obvious.”

“Oh, yeah.” Apple Bloom shrugged. “I figured that this spellgrammer is the big one, right? So a bunch of ponies have to use it. I figure it’s probably a real pain in the behind to tell them all the same word, right? So why wouldn’t you just pick something they’re all familiar with?”

“Familiar…” Sweetie Belle looked distantly at the wall for a second. “Oh!” She grabbed the book, closing it and flipping to the cover. “I bet it’s…” She put her hooves back on the sticks. “Bloom, read off the motto on the bottom of the crest!”

“Uhhhh…”Apple Bloom peered in, reading skeptically from the cover. “Treu und Fest?”

Sweetie Belle shook her head. “Must be foreign. Spell it, please?”

“T-r-e-u-…”

Sweetie Belle nodded, clicking away at the sticks and inputting the phrase letter by letter.

Finished, Apple Bloom put the book down. “I mean, this sure is a clever guess and all, but I reckon the smart ponies in the government would choose something a little less obvious than that, right?”

“Frankly?” Sweetie Belle pushed both sticks down, submitting the phrase. “I have serious doubts they would.” The display went black.

Scootaloo frowned. “I don’t think that–”

At once, the screen flashed back to life. Two lines of text shone from the top of the screen.

PERIMETER ULTRASPELL DIRECT DETERRENCE INITIALIZATION NETWORK

CENTRAL CANTERLOT SPELLGRAMMER

“Uh.” Sweetie Belle rubbed at her eyes. “I don’t think, uh, this is a Legal Ministry system, girls.”

“Yeah.” Apple Bloom exhaled through clenched teeth. “Yeah, I don’t know what an ‘ultraspell’ is, but it sounds, uh…”

“Dangerous?” Sweetie Belle offered.

“Friggin’ awesome!” Scootaloo hovered a little off the ground, wings flapping mightily in excitement. “I only know what, like, half of those words mean, but they’re all friggin’ sweet!” She clambered up into the chair, squeezing herself between Sweetie Belle and the table. “C’mon, how do we see more cool stuff?”

“You, uh–” Sweetie Belle craned her head around the pegasus currently firmly squished into her lap. “Well, I guess you could ask it to list the spellgrams in its storage magneto-scrolls, if you want. Try ‘list spellgrams.’”

Scootaloo nodded, inputting the command. The screen filled with a list of spellgrams. A few, evidently more important, were partitioned off from the main list.

[PERIPHERAL MAGI-MINE CONTROL]

[THIOPHOSPHONATE CLOUD SEEDING DIRECTIVE]

[CONTINENTAL TELE-KILL COMPOUND AEROSOLIZATION]

[NON-BALLISTIC STRATOSPHERIC SUPER-KINETIC ATTACK VEHICLE DIRECTOR]

[ERSATZ HARMONY ELEMENT REVERSE CRYSTALIZATION]

[AUTONOMOUS AREA DENIAL RADIOLOGICAL ULTRASPELL ACTIVATION]

There was a break in the list. A final italicized option set below.

[INVICTA OPTION]

“Whoa.” Scootaloo leaned back in the chair, which mostly just squished Sweetie Belle further.

“Mmmph.” Sweetie Belle wriggled her head out. “Do you have any idea what any of this stuff is?”

“Uh, yeah, I think.” Scootaloo squinted at the screen. “I’m pretty sure Rainbow Dash told me one time about cloud seeding. The weather ponies use it to make dry clouds rain if there’s a really bad drought.” She shrugged. “I dunno what a thio-doohickey is, though.”

Apple Bloom looked out the window, cocking her head. “Well, I figure we are a mite overdue for some rain.” She turned back to the screen. “Figure this super-spellgrammer thing can really can make it rain?”

“We can try, at least.” Sweetie Belle rolled Scootaloo off. The pegasus flopped onto the floor, looking only mildly upset. Sweetie Belle didn’t look. “I’ll see if the machine will take it as a command.” She punched in the requisite operation.

remote0-0-0/spellgram/thiophosphate_cloud_seeding_directive.con/run

The machine’s screen wiped once again. Another prompt appeared, this time with a label.

[PROVIDE DUAL REGAL AUTHORIZATION CODES]

All three ponies present flopped back. One fell against the backrest of her chair, the other two onto their haunches, all with eyes the size of dinner plates. Two of those were in horror. One was in excitement.

“Oh, golly.” Sweetie Belle took a deep breath. “Maybe we should, uh, just call it–”

“Well dang, girls!” Scootaloo popped back onto her feet, cutting off her friend. “What are we waiting for? We already know where we can get the codes of one princess!”

“We do?” Apple Bloom shook her head, clearing her eyes. “Since when?”

“Uh, duh!” Scootaloo rolled her eyes. “How much you wanna bet Princess Twilight’s code-a-majigs are in the same place as this book?”

Sweetie Belle thought for a moment, one side of her face squished in thought. “Okay, yeah, that’s probably true.” She straightened her face. “But is it really a good idea for us to steal a princesses’ secret property or whatever?”

“Uh, first, we already did, and second, heck yeah it is!” Scootaloo comically face-hooved. “What, do you want to be the lame fillies who quit before it was done, or the radical ones who made it frickin’ rain?” She turned to the side, lightly shaking her resolutely blank rump. “Besides, what if we got some totally kick-butt cutie marks in, uh–” she thought for a moment “–unauthorized weather manipulation?”

Ah. Now that would be a rad cutie mark. Sweetie Belle pushed out of the chair. “Okay, yeah, you win.” She took a moment to fluff up her tail, which had been smashed from the combined weight of the two fillies. “But we have to find a way to deal with Spike!”

Scootaloo scoffed. “Oh, him? I’ve got him dealt with, no problem.” She chuckled evilly. “Just you watch.”

The doors of the library busted open. Spike peered over the edge of his comic.

“Spike! Spike!”

He didn’t move the comic any further. “Hey, girls. I’m afraid Twilight is still, uh, sick, so you’ll have to–”

Scootaloo trotted up to the counter, shooting a smirk at the two fillies she left behind at the door and saddlebags jiggling with her jovial gait. “Spike! Rarity needs your help!”

“Oh?” Spike put the comic down. “With what?”

Scootaloo panted in mock exasperation. “She, like, burned out her horn or something, so she can’t do magic. She needs you to help with something.”

Spike raised an eyebrow. “Oh, uh, that’s really unfortunate, but I’m not really supposed to leave this desk.” He shrugged. “Guess I’ll just have to go later.”

“Did I say something? Gosh, I’m so ditzy.” Scootaloo rolled her eyes a theatrical show. “I meant to say she needs help bathing. She needs someone to help her get clean in the shower.”

“Oh!” Spike blushed outrageously. “Uh, wow, um, jeez, uh, okay.” He pulled at an imaginary necktie. “I mean, sure, but, isn’t there somepony else who could help? Doesn’t Rarity have, uh, a bunch of, um, mares who could help her with that? And a spa membership?”

“She does.” Scootaloo nodded. “But she said she wants you. She needs you to help her get clean.” She smirked. “Everywhere,” she added in as husky a voice as she could, dragging out the syllables.

“Um.” Spike looked out the door, then back up towards the stairwell that went to Twilight’s room. “I mean, uh, I really hate to disappoint her, but I really should stay and watch–”

“She said she needs you and your, ah, nimble fingers.” She waggled an eyebrow. “Nimble.” Wiggle. “Fingers.” Wiggle.

“OKAY!” Spike hopped out of his chair, quick-stepping around the desk and around a grinning Scootaloo. “Alright, yeah, gee, I probably should help her out, huh?” He weaved his way between Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle, who stood slack-jawed in front of the door. “Just, uh, look after the place while I’m gone and tell Twilight where I am if you see you and–” he opened the door “–goodbye see you three later!”

The door slammed behind him.

“Told ya it was easy.” Scootaloo pantomimed wiping a bead of sweat from her brow. “Works every time.”

Apple Bloom shivered. “I feel, uh, dirty.”

Sweetie Belle turned to the filly next to her. “Really? Why? It seems like Spike just wanted to help sis out,” she asked innocently.

Scootaloo locked eyes with Apple Bloom. Both shook their heads in agreement.

“Ah, yeah, my bad.” Apple Bloom carefully corrected herself. “Reckon I have no reason to feel any kind of filthy, really.”

“Yeah.” Scootaloo coughed. “Well, uh, anyway, we have ten minutes or so, so, um,” she gestured to Sweetie Belle. “You mind telling me where the key is?”

“Oh! Right. I’ll just grab it.” Sweetie Belle trotted behind the desk, snagging a red key in her magic. “The box is in the back of the room, like I said.” She gestured for the two to follow.

“What’s this box look like, anyway?” Apple Bloom asked. “Like a treasure chest?”

“Unfortunately not.” Sweetie Belle rounded the corner of a shelf, passing by the yellow line that indicated the start of the restricted section. “It’s really very plain. It kind of looks like the ones they have at the spa for your clothes.”

“Oh.” Apple Bloom frowned, glancing at the titles of the books as she passed by. She didn’t know what “sapphic” meant, but it sure seemed to come up a lot. “I was hoping it looked like a cool treasure chest or something.”

“It’s full of cool treasure, I guess.” Scootaloo stopped, pointing a hoof at a bottom shelf. “Is that it?”

Sweetie Belle nodded. “Yeah. Help me pull it out? I can’t open the lid with it still on the shelf.”

The other two fillies grabbed a hold of the safe on each side, dragging it off the wooden shelf and onto the floor with a clattering “BANG.” All three flattened their ears.

“Um.” Sweetie Belle unfolded hers. “I, uh, hope Twilight isn’t listening or anything.”

Scootaloo shrugged. “We’ll just have to be faster. Now unlock it already, Sweetie Belle!”

Sweetie Belle stuck in the key and jiggled it around as she turned. After a few seconds, the lock clicked open and the lid rose slightly. Apple Bloom opened it the rest of the way.

“Whoa.” Scootaloo peered in. “There’s, like, tons of those books in here. Are there that many spellgrammers out there?”

“Maybe.” Sweetie Belle pulled another nondescript book out of the box, opening it to a random page. It contained diagrams for chemicals; interesting, but not authorization codes. “But these aren’t all lists of routing spellgrams.” She put the book back.

“Any of these look like codes to you?” Apple Bloom narrowed her eyes. “They all kinda look the same to me.”

“They are all the same.” Scootaloo sighed. “Ugh! It’s gonna take forever to go through all these.”

“We have to start somewhere.” Apple Bloom prodded at a few of the ones on top. “I say we just tip the box over and start picking up books, honestly. Reckon that’s probably fastest.”

Sweetie Belle shrugged, her horn lighting. The box fell off the shelf, scattering a dozen or so books on the floor. “Want to pick first, Scootaloo?”

“Yeah, I’ll go first.” Scootaloo examined the veritable buffet of brown books before her, eventually selecting one of the nearly identical notebooks at random. She bent down to pick it up, glancing inside the overturned box as she did so. Her eyes widened. “Holy heck! That’s them!”

“What’s them?” Apple Bloom looked at the book Scootaloo nearly picked up. “It don’t look special or–”

“No, not the stupid book!” She reached into the box with a hoof, extracting, after a distinct sound of ripping tape, two envelopes, one marked with Twilight’s cutie mark, the other with a blue crescent moon. “These! It’s gotta be these!”

“Well I’ll be darned!” Apple Bloom chuckled. “I bet you you’re right! Those sure look like the kind of places I’d keep a secret code if I had to!”

“Yeah!” Scootaloo stuffed the letters into a saddlebag. “Now help me get these books back in before–”

A door opened upstairs, followed by a few unsteady footsteps.

“Crap!” The girls’ eyes shot first to each other, then to the sounds upstairs, then to the pile of books. Sweetie Belle picked up two books in he field, shoving them into the case. “Get these back in before she gets back down here!” she hissed.

The other two nodded nervously, each picking up a notebook in each hoof and stuffing them in as fast as possible. Sweetie Belle levitated the key into the air.

“G-girls?” Twilight’s voice reverberated from upstairs. She sounded like she had a terrible sinus infection. “Girls, are you, ugh, are you three down there?” A few more footsteps.

“Uh, yeah, we all are!” Scootaloo crammed another book into the box. Two remained on the ground. “Just, um, stay there, we’ll be right up!”

“N-no, that’s, um, okay.” A halting step onto the stairwell. “You g-girls just stay where you are, I’ll just, oh Celestia, I’ll come to you.”

“Oh-okay!” Apple Bloom shouted up, cramming the last book in. “Just, uh, really take your time if you need too!”

“T-thanks. Are you girls in the re-restricted section?” Twilight’s nasal voice took on a slightly more chastising tone, the footsteps coming faster now. “You three know you aren’t supposed to be in there.”

“Uh, yeah, oops! Our bad!” Sweetie Belle gestured to the other two fillies for them to lift the box onto the shelf, which they did with some difficulty. Sweetie Belle stuck the key into the lock. It wouldn’t budge, the lockbar hitting against the slightly too high latch. She, panicked, pointed to the other two, then to the lid, then pantomimed pressing down. They nodded, placing their hooves on the box.

“It’s okay, I guess.” Twilight stopped for a moment, then sighed. “Oh, right, flying. Hang on a second girls, I’ll be right there.”

Scootaloo, eyes wide in panic, called up to the princess.“Uh, okay, but be careful and take it slow, Twilight!” Sweetie Belle tried the lock again. It slid into place without difficulty. She jiggled the key back out, stuffing it into Scootaloo’s saddlebag.

Twilight’s wings flapped once, driving a gust of air down the banisters and towards the fillies. Scootaloo whispered to the other two. “What do we do now?”

“Just grab a book! Tell her we’re reading it!” Sweetie Belle jerked her head to the shelf behind her.

“Which one?” Apple Bloom looked up into the air. Twilight had risen to the ceiling on unsteady wings.

“Yeah!” Scootaloo scanned the spines. “I don’t recognize any of these!”

Sweetie Belle’s field surrounded one of the paperbacks on the shelf. “Just–”

“WHUMP.”

The fillies turned around. Twilight was prone on the floor.

“Uh, Twilight?” Scootaloo sucked a breath through her teeth. Between the matted mane, horribly unmaintained wings, and her coat’s general tinge of grodyness, Twilight looked, to put it nicely, like deep fried dog turds. “You okay?”

“Urrgh, yeah, I guess.” Twilight peeled her face from the ground, rising on unsteady hooves. “I think flying was a bad idea.”

“It’s hard.” Scootaloo shrugged. “I’ve seen worse landings.”

“T-thanks.” She looked around with bloodshot eyes, blushing as she read the spines of the books. “Whoa! You girls are in the, uh, saucier section.” She chuckled. “I guess you three are getting to that age. What were you three girls, um, doing back here anyway?”

“Reading!” Sweetie Belle shot back a little too fast, clutching the book she grabbed from the shelf tightly to her chest. “Reading a book from the shelves back here, which we came back here for.”

“Oh, um, okay.” Twilight looked at the fillies with a single squinted eye. “Which book were you reading specifically?”

“Uh, this one?” Sweetie Belle pulled the book away from her, reading the title. The paperback had, in her estimation, eighteen or so sweaty stallions in cowpony gear on the front. “Hard Times at Dude Ranch.”

Scootaloo and Apple Bloom looked at each other, cheeks scarlet red and eyes wide.

“Really?” Twilight gently displaced Sweetie Belle’s field, pulling the book towards herself. “I don’t think I’ve ever read – whoa!” She shook her head, field slotting it back onto the shelf. “Ah jeez, no, that’s still a little too much for you three.”

“Oh, okay.” Sweetie Belle shrugged. “Sorry.”

“Nothing to a-apologize for.” Twilight smiled gently. Gosh, her teeth were looking a little yellow, weren’t they? “You’re just curious young fillies. It’s n-natural to be interested in stallions.” She chuckled. “Or eighteen of them. But something like that’s just a little too much for you three.”

“Oh.” Scootaloo nodded. “Thanks, I guess.”

“No problem.” Twilight gestured with a raggedy wing for the three to follow. “Come on, I’ll help you find something a little more appropriate.”

The three looked among themselves, then shrugged. “Sure, Miss Twilight,” replied Apple Bloom. They walked after her.

“I try and keep the fillies out of that part, but sometimes you guys slip in.” Twilight grumbled to herself. “Of course, some u-useless lizard is supposed to be keeping an eye on this place. Where is he, anyway?”

“I think he went to go help out Sweetie Belle’s sister,” cheerfully answered Scootaloo.

“He WHAT?” Twilight wheeled around, ears twitching crazily and pupils shrunken. “He went to go help that stupid prissy white bi–” she remembered her audience. “–witch!”

“Uh, yes?” Sweetie Belle frowned. Her sister wasn’t stupid, although she was indeed prissy and white. Not much of a magician, though, so “witch” wasn’t particularly apt as a descriptor. “What’s wrong with that?”

“What’s wrong with that?” Twilight groaned, wings writhing in discomfort. “Not only is he leaving his job in the middle of the day, but it’s to go help her!” She stamped a hoof, screeching in frustration.

“Uh, Twilight?” Apple Bloom raised a hoof in concern. “Ya reckon you’re feeling okay?”

“No, I, ugh.” She sighed, taking a moment to compose herself. “No, it’s f-fine. Just, uh–” she tapped a forehoof in thought, trying to think of an appropriate descriptor. “Just, if you ever find yourself in a Canterlot alleyway and some mare tells you she’s got something that can make you work twice as fast, say no, okay?” She turned to the fillies. “Just promise me you’ll say no, okay?”

“Uh.” They looked between themselves in confusion, then turned back to Twilight, nodding confusedly.

“Great. Great.” Twilight smiled, then frowned again as she rubbed her wings together. “Celestia’s bones, these things itch all the freaking time!” She looked at Scootaloo. “How do you deal with these stupid things, anyway?”

Scootaloo scratched her head. “Uh, I mean, I usually don’t have any issues with them itching as long as I keep them preened.”

Twilight stared onward, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“You know, preening? Fixing your feathers?” Scootaloo’s eyes widened in horror. “You are preening, right?”

“You’re supposed to do something to these?” Twilight’s jaw dropped. “Nobody told me that! Celestia never told me that!”

“Oh dear goddess.” Scootaloo shook her head. “How are you not miserable all the time? I can’t stand going a day without at least checking. How long has it been, three weeks?”

“Three and a half!” Twilight fell to the floor, wings spreading wide open. “Oh, please, fix them, fix them, fix them!”

Scootaloo ran her eyes over the wings, gulping as she noted the patches of discoloration from some kind of unnatural soiling. An optimist would say it was ink. “Uh, sure?”

“THANK YOU!” Twilight pressed her face into the ground, weeping happy tears. “Oh, please, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you!”

“No problem…?” Scootaloo turned to the other two fillies, shrugging sheepishly.

Sweetie Belle chuckled. “Okay, you deal with, uh, this, I’ll go put ‘it’ back. Right or left bag?”

“Left.” Scootaloo turned around to allow easier access, all the while eyeing the prone princess. The sobbing continued. She felt Sweetie’s muzzle dive into the bag, pulling out her prize with a soft jingle.

“Thanks.” Sweetie Belle smirked around the key. “We’ll see you at the clubhouse. Have fun!”

Scootaloo rolled her eyes. Somehow, she strongly doubted that she’d be having any fun at all.

The door to the clubhouse slammed open. Scootaloo plodded in, shell-shocked.

Apple Bloom smirked. “How was–”

“Cider.” Scootaloo demanded. “Where’s the secret cider stash?”

Sweetie Belle, already sat before her spellgrammer, jerked her head towards a loose floorboard in the corner of the room, her magic levitating it out of place. “Should be a few bottles in there.”

Scootaloo screamed across the room, descending on a bottle like a falcon on a wounded rabbit. She yanked the cork out with her teeth, tossing the bottle back and chugging the contents down.

“Wanna take it slow there, Scoots?” Apple Bloom asked with raised brows.

Scootaloo finished the bottle, tossing it to the ground and letting loose a mighty belch.

“That bad?”

“You have no idea.” Scootaloo shuddered. “Her feathers tasted like soured coffee and battery acid. I think my tongue is still numb.” She shivered.

Sweetie Belle stuck her tongue out in sympathy. “Gross!”

Apple Bloom shrugged. “But probably the right thing to do, I figure.”

Scootaloo nodded slowly. “Definitely. That poor pony. She passed out halfway though. I can’t blame her, I would have gone crazy weeks ago if mine were that bad.” She eyed her own flappers. “And she has, like, five times as much wing as I do.”

Apple Bloom nodded. “I reckon that’s about right.” She eyed the saddlebags. “You still got the letters? We’ve already got that ‘PUDDIN’ thing pulled up already.”

Scootaloo nodded, diving into her saddlebags and returning with the two letters. She tossed them onto the ground.

“Sweet!” Sweetie Belle levitated the one with Twilight’s cutie mark on it off the ground, bringing it onto her desk. “Do you think we should open this one first?”

“Nah.” Apple Bloom picked up the other letter. “I figure we should go for this one first. If it’s not what we’re looking for, I reckon Twilight would notice if hers was damaged easier than the other one.”

Sweetie Belle shrugged. “Makes sense. You want me to open it?”

Scootaloo shook her head. “Nah, I got it. Watch this!” She snatched the letter out of Apple Bloom’s hooves, sliding a primary feather under the flap and swiping it across, breaking the seal. She handed it back to Apple Bloom. “You can read it.”

Apple Bloom extracted the contents, pulling out a folded piece of legal-sized paper. She unfolded it, revealing the unmistakably neat hand of Princess Celestia.

“What’s it say?” Sweetie Belle leaned back in her chair.

Apple Bloom started. “Dear my faithful student Twilight, I am writing to you to inquire as to how you are finding your new accommodations. Whilst your first day may have been rather unfortunately spoiled by the inopportune arrival of my seditionist sister…”

Scootaloo rolled her eyes. “Oh, come on! Get to the good part already!”

Apple Bloom shot her a look, but skipped ahead a few paragraphs regardless. “Oh, hang on one second! I think I found it!” She started again. “You must understand, Twilight, I love my sister dearly, but I certainly do not trust her dearly. Thus, while the disparate marshals of the realm have deemed her fit to possess the – here it is! – authorization codes to access our most unspeakable instruments, I have not informed her of such. Until I feel she has not only adjusted to the particular intricacies of modern geopolitics but also shown complete obedience in matters of state, I have found it far wiser to entrust these to you. Let us pray you will never need these; even I willfully neglect to inquire about the particular devices at our command to retain my sanity. Nevertheless, we must be prepared for all contingencies, and the codes are enclosed in the envelope on the red bakelite chits. Memorize these and protect these as you would your Element; perhaps even more so.”

“Is that it?” Sweetie Belle looked slightly ashen faced. This was beginning to sound less and less like benign weather shenanigans.

“Yeah.” Apple Bloom inverted the envelope. As Celestia had indicated, two plastic squares about the size of a filly’s hoof fell out of the paper envelope. “Reckon that’s them.”

Sweetie Belle picked up the chits in her field, examining them closely. “Yeah, it’s them. The left one has instructions on how to access the spellgrammer. The right one has the actual code on it.” She put them both on the desk. “Think we ought to put them in?”

“Duh!” Scootaloo was nearly jumping for joy. “We got Luna’s too! You know what that means?”

“What?” Sweetie Belle levitated Twilight’s letter into the air.

“It means that we have two codes!” She snatched Twilight’s letter out of the field, tearing it open and inverting it. A paper and two blue squares fell out. “The spellgrammer only needs two codes! We can do anything we want!”

Sweetie Belle levitated up the two new chits. Just like the others, one of them contained a code, notably distinct from the one on Luna’s squares. “Yeah, I guess we do.” She turned back to the spellgrammer. “Do we still want to do the rain one?”

“Uh, duh!” Scootaloo ran over to the desk. “Hurry up, put it in already! We don’t have all day, and Twilight might find the box!”

“Okay, okay, jeez.” Sweetie Belle once again input the requisite command. The screen wiped, displaying the same message as before.

[PROVIDE DUAL REGAL AUTHORIZATION CODES]

“Okay, read them out, please.” Sweetie Belle kept her hooves on the sticks. She was sweating slightly.

Scootaloo, holding Luna’s, went first. “Uh, it’s–” She cleared her throat. “Okay, with hyphens in the middle, it’s IN-THE-END-CRATERS-FOR-MOMENTS-SISTER-I-AM-HOME.” She grimmaced. “Jeez, that’s not a happy sentence. I wonder what it means?

Apple Bloom rubbed her chin. “It don’t make a lick of sense to me. Something about the moon, maybe?” She lifted Twilight’s chit to her face. “Twilight’s is THE-LIGHT-OF-OUR-SHAME-SHALL-SPUR-THE-TREE-ANEW. Hyphens just like last time.” She shook her head. “I reckon Twilight’s is even worse. These codes sure are a real bummer, huh?”

Sweetie Belle shrugged, her hooves inputting the final few letters. “I guess. I’ve got them put in now. Do we want to send it in?”

“Yeah!” Scootaloo pulled up close, head craning up to see the display. “Come on, send it in.”

Sweetie Belle pushed both sticks forward, submitting the codes. The machine hummed for a second.

“Do you reckon it worked?” Apple Bloom looked out the window. “I don’t think I see a rain cloud or anything.”

The machine hummed again. The display flashed once. A small block of text appeared.

UNABLE TO COMPLY: QUANTITY OF THIOPHOSPHONATE STOCKPILE INSUFFICIENT TO ENSURE ADEQUATE CONCENTRATION FOR EFFECTIVE USE.

OTHER OPTIONS REPORT OPERATIONAL. PRESS EITHER STICK TO RETURN.

“Oh, darn.” Scootaloo rocked back onto her haunches. “I think it’s saying there’s not enough stuff in the machine to make it rain everywhere. Lame!”

“Yeah!” Apple Bloom frowned. “It’s not like I want it to rain everywhere; just here will do mighty fine.”

“Drat, girls, drat!” Sweetie Belle slumped in her chair. “We went through all that work for nothing!”

“Uh, no we didn’t!” Scootaloo rolled her eyes. “We can just choose another option. That’s what it says right there!” She punched a stick, returning to the previous screen full of options.

“But we don’t know what any of those are!” Sweetie Belle countered, exasperated.

“So? Just pick the coolest sounding one!” She pointed at the bottom of the screen at the italicized selection.

[INVICTA OPTION]

“’Invicta Option.’ Doesn’t that sound rad?” Scootaloo’s wings flapped in excitement. “Maybe it’s a super cool spellgrammer game, and that’s why it’s off by itself!”

“A spellgrammer game? Please.” Sweetie Belle smirked. “You really think you would need two princesses to access a game? Come on.”

Scootaloo recoiled in hurt. “I mean, if I was a princess, I’d keep all the cool games to myself and my friends.” She drew back in close. “And it’s not like we’ll ever find out unless we try it.”

Sweetie Belle raised a hoof in retort, then, after a moment, conceded. “Okay. I guess we’ll give it a try.” She wrote out the command.

remote0-0-0/spellgram/invicta_option.con/run

The machine paused for a moment. Another line appeared.

[CONFIRM DELIBERATE SELECTION OF INVICTA OPTION.]

“Oh, dang.” Apple Bloom backed away from the display. “Maybe we ought to not try this one out, girls. That sounds real serious.”

Scootaloo waved a hoof dismissively. “They probably just say that because it’s the last one and it’s easy to select on accident.”

“I guess that does make sense.” Sweetie Belle put the command back in. This time, the machine accepted it without complaint, bringing up the same prompt as before.

[PROVIDE DUAL REGAL AUTHORIZATION CODES]

Sweetie Belle nodded to the girls next to her, who picked up the chits and read them out again. She dutifully punched in the readouts.

IN-THE-END-CRATERS-FOR-MOMENTS-SISTER-I-AM-HOME

THE-LIGHT-OF-OUR-SHAME-SHALL-SPUR-THE-TREE-ANEW

With a gulp, Sweetie Belle rested back in her chair, the two phrases gleaming back in the early evening light of the clubhouse window.

“Well? What are you waiting for?” Scootaloo pointed at the screen. “Send them in!”

“I will, just, er, give me a second, okay?” Sweetie Belle frowned. “Are we sure we really want to do this? We don’t even know what this will do, for heaven's sake."

“Come on!” Scootaloo rolled her eyes. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

With a final deep breath, Sweetie Belle pushed the sticks forwards, submitting the codes. The screen went blank.

“Do ya think it worked?” Apple Bloom peered forwards at the screen. “I can’t say I can tell anything’s happened ye–”

Two lines of text appeared on screen.

INVICTA OPTION CODES AUTHORIZED. SHINING HOPE PROTOCOL AUTHORIZED.

CELESTIA PROTECT US, FOR NO ONE ELSE WILL.

All three fillies stared ashen-faced at the screen.

“Oh.” Scootaloo rubbed a foreleg with the other hoof. “That might, uh, be bad.”

Two Royal Guard colonels sat in front of a blank display, hunkered down in a dark basement room of Canterlot Castle. As usual, both stallions struggled to stay awake – a good problem to have when excitement means near-certain continental annihilation.

The older one, a unicorn, turned to the other, a pegasus. “So, uh, you see any cute maids recently?”

The pegasus shrugged, turning his chair around to see his partner. It was low quality conversation, but it still beat silence. “Not really. I think they lowered the skirts on the uniforms or something. You can’t catch quite so much–”

A klaxon sounded, and both stallions’ eyes shot open in horror.

“Is that…?”

“Yeah.” A nod. “Oh, Celestia, it is.”

The both swiveled to the display in front of them, each hoping, but internally knowing it couldn’t be, a drill.

P.U.D.D.I.N REMOTE ACTIVATION

DUAL REGAL AUTHORIZATION

- - - > BLUE DREAMER

- - - > SPARKLING MAGIC

INVICTA OPTION CONFIRMATION

INVICTA OPTION CONFIRMATION

“U-uh-oh-oh-oh Celestia…” The unicorn choked on his words, hyperventilating in fear, panting in shallow breaths.

“Hey! Hey!” The pegasus smacked the unicorn with a wing. “Officer! Officer! Officer, we have a job to do! Are you still with me?”

The unicorn nodded dumbly.

“Alright.” The pegasus took a deep breath. “Okay. Go ahead an unlock your half of the Invicta cabinet and take out your components.” He picked up a phone hoofset with a hoof. “I’m going to see if I can reach either princess on the line. I want some answers before I scorch this entire city into ash.” He put the phone into his wing, placing it against his head with a few primaries. “Do you know where we put that index card with the direct line to Princess Sparkle?”

The unicorn nodded, pointing with a shaky hoof at a card taped on the wall.

The pegasus took another deep breath, then began dialing the number.

A red phone in Twilight Sparkle’s bedroom rang. Unfortunately, Twilight Sparkle remained unconscious on the floor downstairs, snoring away contentedly.

“Damnit!’ The pegasus slammed the phone down, shattering the hoofset into a thousand shards of bakelite. “No answer.” He turned to the other colonel. “It–” an inhale “–it looks like this is for real.”

The unicorn placed his last syringe onto the tray, looking up to his partner with weepy eyes. “Wha-what do we do?”

“Our jobs,” the pegasus answered grimly. “We do our jobs.”

“And-and-and that’s why I can’t afford to clear the land, Princess! With the foals gone from cholera I, oh goddess.”

The farm-mare wept a little more. Princess Celestia idly levitated another tissue towards her, which she snagged out of the air and blew her nose into before dropping onto the carpet. Celestia eyed it with undisguised disdain. Rug cleaning was expensive after all.

“S-so-so what should I do, Princess?” The mare looked up with bloodshot eyes, clearly blown out from crying. “H-how do I make it through the year?”

Princess Celestia affixed one of her trademark serene smiles to her face. “I have found, little one, that through patience and humility all problems find themselves naturally resolved.”

“W-what?” The mare looked up in confusion. “B-but I j-just told you why I can’t wait any longer! If I don’t get the plot cleared the town will seize it!”

Celestia nodded serenely, eyeing the clock. Oh, would you look at that! Five o’clock! She turned to the mare. “Yes, it sure will,” she said with a bob of the head. “But, unfortunately, I must cut this meeting short. I hope you understand.”Another smile.

“N-no, I don’t understand!” The mare threw herself at Celestia’s hooves. Great, another thing to scrub. “C-can’t the government do something to help me? Please?” The mare looked up, locking eyes with an almost transparently disgruntled Celestia. “I-I pray to you! Every day! Every night too!”

Celestia gently shook off the mare, gesturing to a pegasus guard with a wing, who took wing at once. “Yes, well, thank you for your consideration, but I am afraid this court is closed.” She looked up at the guard. “Please help this fine citizen find her way out, yes?”

The guard nodded, landing beside the mare and holding her with a firm wing over the withers. She reluctantly marched out of the room with the guard, who thoughtfully closed the door behind him.

Celestia slumped into her throne, casting her tiara to the ground with a clatter. She had more. She pointed with a wing at another guard. “Guard? Fetch Raven, please. Have her bring a,” she thought for a second, “no, two bottles of at least a fifteen year pinot noir, yes?”

The guard departed with a nod of the head. Celestia slumped further into her throne, which had unfortunately grown shamefully tight around the seat over the past century or so. Still, if the choice was between fourteenths at the dessert course or slight discomfort in her silly chair, the dessert course won every time. She threw her hind legs across one of the armrests, leaning her upper torso across the other. The fittings creaked in protest.

Expectedly, although unexpectedly quickly, the doors burst open. Celestia threw her hoof into the “wine glass receptacle” position; slightly askew, hoof curled to hold the stem, arm held straight out. After a few seconds of not receiving a glass, she flicked her ears in irritation, noticing, for the first time, what sounded like the squeaking wheels of an overburdened cart.

She rolled her head around, spotting two Guard colonels, each drenched in sweat, pushing a squeaking cart. The contents were obscured by a blanket.

She rolled back into an upright position, placing a single elbow on an armrest in a semi-respectable position. “Greetings, officers. To what do I owe the pleasure?” She eyed the cart, smirking. “I must say that officially bakery bribery will get you nowhere in your promotion search.” She looked back at the officers. “Unofficially? It doesn’t hurt.”

The officers chuckled nervously. “Haha!” The pegasus pointed up with a hoof. “Um, Princess, would you mind looking up and to the left for me, please? Your whole head.”

Celestia squinted in confusion, but did as asked, rolling her head back and gazing up at the lovely stonework of Canterlot Castle. It really was a shame it kept getting replaced from damages, she loved the look of a good weathered stone ro–

“ARRRRGH!” Celestia screamed. Gods, her chest didn’t sting, it burned, burned like she had leapt into a fireplace, burned like she just blocked an archmage-level magical blast.

She looked down at her rib-cage. The pegasus officer looked back apologetically as he squeezed an angry orange substance out of an uncomfortably oversized hypodermic needle. She suddenly felt very faint. “Wh-what are…”

“I’m sorry ma’am.” The pegasus was crying now. “I really am.”

She tried to raise a hoof to batter him away, only weakly swatting at the air before she rolled forwards out of her throne. The colonel removed the empty needle just before she tumbled down the stairs, ending up resting on her back amid a sea of red carpet and, horribly, used tissues.

“Wh-wha–” Celestia tried to speak. Every breath was like snorting phosphorus.

“We had a P.U.D.D.I.N activation, ma’am.” The unicorn levitated another syringe from the tray, this time a brilliant pearl. “Double royal authorization.” He inserted the syringe into her left armpit, slowly adding pressure to the plunger. “Invicta option.”

“In-vict–” Celestia’s eyes widened in realization. “Th-ose idiots!” She was panting now, sweating profusely from the seemingly endless internal heat. “I t-old the gen-erals it wouldn't work. I s-aid end it!”

“Oh.” The officers looked at each other. “Sorry ma’am. Guess they never took it off the list.”

“A-and who the Tartarus auth-orized this, anyway?” Celestia squirmed. The carpet was visibly wet now and steaming.

The pegasus grabbed a final syringe from the cart, a smaller one with a deeply crimson liquid. The needle was disconcertingly longer than seemed strictly necessary. “Princesses Luna and Twilight Sparkle, ma’am.”

“L-una and Twilight?” Celestia grit her teeth in pain as the officer inserted the needle between her ribs, driving hard towards her heart. “Lu-na doesn’t h-aaaa–” a scream “–hhhh-ve codes. Twi-light has both of them, and she doesn’t kn-ow what they are.”

“Oh.” The officer extracted the needle. He paused. “Why? That seems like a bad idea.”

The last thing Celestia thought before she faded painfully into unconsciousness was that, yeah, that was a pretty stupid idea.

Scootaloo tapped a hoof impatiently. “Well? Is anything going to happen or not?”

Sweetie Belle rolled her eyes. “Scootaloo, it’s only been twenty minutes. Give it some time, please?”

Apple Bloom watched the window nervously. “I can’t say I’m expecting anything good, Scootaloo. As far as I’m concerned? Nothing happening is the best we can hope for.”

“Well, I haven’t seen squat yet, so I guess you’re going home happy.” Scootaloo sat back onto her haunches. “But I won’t. I better see some motherf–”

The light from outside went from a dim sunset to a brilliant flash-bulb white. Apple Bloom rolled back from the window, screaming as she covered her eyes. The other two looked away, only turning back to the window once the light had faded to a mere industrial spotlight.

“What in the godsdamn?” Scootaloo pointed out the window. “Did-did we do that?” She turned to Sweetie Belle. “Sweetie Belle, did we–” she pointed between the two of them “–do that?”

Sweetie Belle nodded slowly, eyes brimming with tears. “Oh, Celestia, I think we did, Scootaloo. I think we did.”

“What is that?” Scootaloo looked back at the computer, which still displayed the message it had previously.

“I don’t know, Scootaloo.” Sweetie Belle continued to stare out of the window. A single brilliant line traced upwards from the roughly spherical ball of light surrounding what was in all likelihood the former site of Equestria’s capital. She pointed at the line. “What do you think it could be, Scoo–”

“BE NOT AFRAID, EQUESTRIA,”

The window exploded inwards from the force of the voice, showering Apple Bloom in shards of glass. Poor filly just couldn’t catch a break. The other two fillies slammed their ears down, eyes locked to the beam of light, which had grown enormous wings of fire. The fillies could see an incoming shock wave ripple towards the shack, and braced themselves for another impact.

“FOR YOUR SALVATION IS AT HAND.”

“Is, is that Princess Celestia?” Scootaloo turned to Sweetie Belle, terrified. “Is that what the ‘Invicta option’ is?”

“I think so.” Sweetie Belle nodded. “It’s some kind of old name or something, I think.”

“FOR I SHALL PURGE THIS FILTHY WORLD OF THE UNCLEAN, AND I SHALL MAKE OF THE GRIFFON REALMS A PYRE OF FLAME, AND I SHALL RENDER THE HAUGHTY DRAGONS INTO ASHES AND DUST, AND I SHALL SMITE THE MINOTAURS WITH GREAT TONGUES OF LIGHT, AND MAKE THE WORLD GOOD AND BRIGHT FOR PONYKIND.”

The shining object burst into the sky, tracing a blazing streak through the sky as it accelerated westwards.

Towards the griffon lands, Scootaloo remembered from Geography class.

“Oh my goddess, Sweetie Belle.” Scootaloo sat back on her haunches. “I think we just ended the world.” She rubbed the back of her head with a hoof, giving Sweetie Belle a weak smile. “I guess that was the worst that could happen, huh?”

A final shock wave crashed into the shack, blowing off a few shingles and bowing in the outer wall slightly. After a few groans, the shack collapsed completely.

No, that was the worst that could happen.

Author's Note

Chapter divisions are for cowards, baby. We're letting this all hang out.

Obvious WarGames pastiche. That movie freakin' rocks.

In case you remained confused the whole way though, a "spelljammer" is a computer. A "spelljam" is to program as spellgammer is to, well, you get the point.

The ersatz keyboard is based on one of these wacky no-key keyboards. I've always thought it the most logical solution for an unfingered race.

A "thiophosphonate rain" is terrifyingly scary. I guess the Equestrian Armed Forces take the whole NBC weaponry thing pretty dang serious, huh?