Rain splattered across the dark, splintered sentinels of the Canterlot City docks. Sitting on the northeastern edge of uptown, just a short drive away from the boardwalk, the docks were usually a bustling hive of swarthy workmen and pricey imports. Tonight, however, sleeping ships sat rocking between the piers, and all the tight-set warehouses had shuttered doors and darkened windows. All of them, save for one.

Though the windows were closed, the gray industrial space was filled with an uneasy chill. Yellowed fluorescents buzzed between the steel beams that made up the ceiling, illuminating a scattering of shivering townies. They sat on bean bag chairs and sofas laid out across the cold concrete floor. Some of them had queued up at a little table where stew and coffee were being served by people in black shirts that said “Staff”.

They weren’t a chatty bunch. Far from the triumphant, if battered protectors of Canterlot, these were the common clay of the city; mundane, exhausted and traumatized. There was no space here for the petty squabbles of city life, no comparisons to be made about living conditions or clothes or cars. For now, they weren’t citizens of Canterlot; they were nothing more than a huddled mass of survivors trying to reckon with what had happened to them.

There was a little office overlooking them all; a foreman’s room set on a metal platform high above the working floor. Cauldron Bubbles watched with grim fascination as a young woman walked out of it, looking strangely calm. Before entering, she’d be shaking with shell shock. Now, however, she had the oddest smile on her face; like she was taking a pleasant stroll in the park.

The main shutter was locked up tight, and there was only one door in and out of the warehouse. It was marked “Shuttle”, and flanked by two burly men, also wearing “Staff” shirts. Next to the door was a little bin that said “phones” on it. The woman rummaged through it briefly, collected a smartphone, and went on her way. The guards barely acknowledged her.

“Who do you think these people are?” Cauldron Bubbles said. Her pale pink hair was frazzled, clinging wetly to the couch she sat on. She was shaking slightly under her complimentary blanket, her purple skin paled from the cold.

The young man shrugged, idly turning over a little paper slip in his hands. It’s number nearly matched an LCD screen over the office.

“Next. Number 21.” Said a bored voice over crackling warehouse speakers.

The young man got up. He said nothing, nodding to Cauldron Bubbles as he made for the staircase.

“Wait a minute! Are you sure you want to go up there, uh…I’m sorry dear, I never caught your name!” Cauldron Bubbles said.

With his pale skin, dark ruddy hair and gray, nondescript beanie, the young man had the appearance of a stock character in a million movies. He made a complex gesture with his hands, then frowned as Cauldron Bubbles shrugged at him.

“What…what’s that?” Cauldron Bubbles said.

A steaming cup of coffee was placed in her hands, then another into the young man’s. Silver Spoon smiled as she sat down on the couch. Despite the direness of the situation, she seemed as steady as a granite statue.

“He said his name is Norman, and he’s mute.” Silver Spoon said.

“Oh. Oh! Norman, yes, of course. Do you think we’re safe here?” Cauldron Bubbles said. She noticed the guards frowning at her, and spoke behind her hand. “This all just seems very…orderly. Why is there a storm shelter on the docks, anyway?”

“What are you going to do?” Norman signed.

“Number 21! You’re next.” The speakers said.

Norman waved and headed for the stairs.

“Why are you people being so nonchalant about this!?” Cauldron Bubbles whispered.

“How long have you lived in Canterlot?” Silver Spoon said.

“Just about three years, why?” Cauldron Bubbles said.

“Oh, I see. This must be your first time.” Silver Spoon said.

“What’s that supposed to mean!?” Cauldron Bubbles said.

“Just relax. They won’t hurt you. Just answer their questions, and when they offer you a contract, read it carefully before you sign.” Silver Spoon said.

There was a flash inside the office. Cauldron Bubbles shuddered. Norman came back down the stairs with the same placid expression as before. He waved to Cauldron Bubbles and Silver Spoon before heading outside.

“That! That just there! What did they do to him?” Cauldron Bubbles whispered.

“It’s going to be okay. Just breathe.” Silver Spoon said, placing a gentle hand on Cauldron Bubbles’ shoulder. “I’m sure you heard the rumors; strange things happen in Canterlot. There’s all sorts of folklore around town. Rumors about people seeing things they aren’t supposed to, creepy things coming out at night, talking dogs, psychic powers, that sort of thing. But sometimes, strange things really do happen here. And then…they show up.”

Silver Spoon spoke in a hushed tone, like she was recounting a campfire story. Cauldron Bubbles leaned in, listening intently. All of her bombastic salesman’s candor was gone.

“The workers here?” Cauldron Bubbles said.

“Exactly. Sometimes they dress as plumbers, carpenters, construction workers and the like. Sometimes it's business suits, or transit security vests. They can be anywhere, and anyone. Strange things happen, and then they show up, and it just…vanishes. Poof. And no one ever talks about it again.” Silver Spoon said.

“That’s a little eerie.” Cauldron Bubbles said. “They’re not going to swoop us up into a black van, are they?”

“As far as anyone knows, they don’t hurt people. They just find little inconsistencies and pave them over. Sometimes they make you sign a waiver, and sometimes they don’t bother anyone at all. The locals ignore them, and it all works out. They help us put the strange stuff behind us.” Silver Spoon said.

“I can’t just forget what’s happened to me! What happened to us! Why did they take our phones? There’s someone at home that needs to know I’m safe!” Cauldron Bubbles whispered.

“You’re going to make it home, just don’t make a fuss. And keep your eyes open.” Silver Spoon said.

Cauldron Bubbles was overflowing with questions, but she was old enough to know they probably wouldn’t be answered. She went silent as she noticed that the door guards were staring at her, and the people handing out blankets, and the one ladling soup.

Cauldron Bubbles made a valiant effort to stay composed. She bit her index fingernail, and felt a sting. She’d already gnawed it down to the cuticle.

“Number 22!” The speakers said.

“That’s me.” Silver Spoon said, standing up.

“Wait! What’s your name, dear? You’ve been an absolute angel.” Cauldron Bubbles said.

“Me? I’m Silver Spoon. Oh, but you might not…well, here. Hold on to this.” Silver Spoon said, passing Cauldron Bubbles a little business card.

“God--I mean, Gaia damn it, I knew I should have had cards made.” Cauldron Bubbles grumbled.

“That’s fine. I’m sure I’ll see you around town!” Silver Spoon said, and with a smile, she climbed the stairs up to the office.

As Cauldron Bubbles watched the young lady knock on the door and quietly enter, a dreadful chill ran through her. For some reason she simply couldn’t explain, she was certain Silver Spoon wouldn’t come back out.

The door to the office clicked shut. Silver Spoon winced under the humming lights as she sat before a wide metal desk with a stack of papers and a stamp on it. She didn’t recognize the clerk behind it; some bored looking man with gray skin and dark purple hair in a black suit. She supposed that was the point.

“State your name.” The man said, shuffling papers.

“Silver Spoon.” Silver Spoon said.

“Occupation?” The man said.

“Therapist.” Silver Spoon said.

“Great.” The man said, sliding a contract across the table. “I’ll keep this brief. You may have seen some strange occurrences today. Well, I’m here to tell you they won’t be bothering you any more. With the help of our custodial agency, The Pillars Organization, you’ll be back on track to your normal life in no time at all. You may even be entitled to compensation based on the damages you sustained during the incident.”

“Oh, you’ve changed the speech. It used to sound like an insurance package. Now it’s more of a lawyer’s commercial, or something.” Silver Spoon said.

The man looked up.

“Ah. You’ve done this before. That makes it easier.” The man said.

With a disaffected sigh, he unlocked a file cabinet next to his desk. The drawer was full of replica memory stones, which were neatly labeled with sticky notes. They had filenames like “Dragon Incident (Fairgrounds)”, and “Shoggoth Incident” (Aquarium) written on them in black marker. He pulled out one labelled “Changeling Incidents” (Various) and set it on the desk.

“You signing the non-disclosure, or are you getting zapped?” The man said.

“Actually, I wanted to make you an offer. You and your organization.” Silver Spoon said.

In the strange, transitory neighborhood where the east side slums met the northern business district, chaos unfolded. The sprinklers in Donut Joe’s diner and bar were gushing a deluge of cold water onto the hapless patrons within. Folks scrambled to save their meals and drinks, only to find more falling water out the front door. Joe himself was yelling something about a permanent ban to Berry Punch, who was cackling and flipping him off as she ran for the road. The Defenders of Canterlot were going for the door as well, leaving Buck and Adagio to stand isolated in a frozen moment.

Not a single drop from the sprinklers touched the two. Instead, it slipped around Adagio mid-fall like pedestrians on the street, and it became steam before it could touch Buck’s head.

Buck’s golden eyes were wide with shock, a galaxy of flames and roses dancing behind his head, matching the ruddy color of his burning blush. Adagio held his hand to her cheek, and her eyes, so often filled with a red schemer’s shine, were uncharacteristically soft and earnest. Her lips were parted, her breath held as she awaited a response.

“That’s not funny, Adagio.” Buck said.

“Who’s joking?” Adagio said.

“Obviously, you are! Why would you–there’s no way you would–I don’t even know where to start!” Buck blustered.

“Is it so hard to believe that I’m being honest?” Adagio said.

Her hands were cold, but the insistent push of her cheek against Buck’s palm was warm and soft. She refused to avert her eyes, and she refused to let go. Buck got the strangest feeling that she was going to try and kiss him again.

“Everybody out!” Donut Joe said. “We’re closing up!”

The sprinklers finally stopped. Buck looked around to see his favorite drinking spot drenched. He took a deep breath and tried to swallow down his mortified expression.

“Hey Joe, let me help you with that!” Buck said, but Donut Joe waved him off.

“It’s alright, Poiple Prose. We got guys for this. Go on home, you wacky kids!” Joe said.

“C’mon.” Buck said.

Adagio held Buck’s hand as they departed, and he let her. Despite everything, the feeling of her fingers stitched in his felt right. Right, like the sound of waves at the beach. Something that would be noticed if it were missing.

Outside was no less wet than inside. Buck felt a tingle travel down his arm and up Adagio’s as she hummed a soft tune. The rainfall casually swerved around them as they approached Sunburst’s jeep. It was quiet enough to hear the squeak of their shoes as they huddled into the back seat.

“So…that was strange.” Sunburst said.

“Yeah. Yeah, it was.” Buck said.

“Does anyone want to unpack any of that?” Sunburst said.

“I want to unpack myself out of these dirty clothes and take a seven-hour shower.” Starlight said.

Scootaloo seemed to have turned to stone at the moment of Adagio’s confession. She broke through the paralysis now, sitting at the far edge of the back seat, texting feverishly. It seemed she had a lot to say, but not out loud.

“Buck, I’d like to discuss this with you privately.” Adagio said. She was blushing now, sheepishly twirling a lock of hair. She had yet to let go of his hand.

“...that’s fair. Sunburst? You mind taking me back first?” Buck said.

“Right. Let’s all take some time to decompress.” Sunburst said.

The ride was unnervingly quiet. Scootaloo made a novel attempt at playing an old CD from the pouch behind the driver’s seat, but after the first exuberant notes of Sweet Child of Mine blared from the speakers, Starlight ejected it. Then she laid her head on the dashboard, and didn’t make a sound for the rest of the trip.

No one knew what to say or how to say it, and so they sat in silence, watching the city lights roll by like ghost fire in the fog. The jeep pulled into the parking lot of Buck’s apartment, and without saying anything, Buck led Adagio to stand with him in the stairwell, away from prying ears.

“What…what’s happening?” Scootaloo said. She looked like a lost child.

“I’m not sure. The only thing we can do is wait.” Sunburst said.

“It feels like…like everything’s upside down. But nothing is falling.” Starlight said, cryptically.

“Huh?” Scootaloo said.

“I don’t know, Scootaloo. It just feels like something changed.” Starlight said.

Adagio Dazzle could taste the conflict wafting off Buck like a savory steam from a pot of stew. He was cycling through a mad spiral of confusion, shame, denial and lust, and yet he only looked a bit perturbed. It was unnatural.

Adagio could still remember the feeling of his back arching beneath her fingertips when he’d taken her on his bed. She could still hear his low, soft grunts as he bottomed out inside her in the boardwalk changing room, could still recall the sensation of his thick, salty spunk rolling down her throat when they’d mingled with Scootaloo in her bedroom. The smell of his hair on her pillow. The unrefined, addictive taste of tarts. His rolling, warm baritone filling her ears. The thickness of his fingers. The sweetness of his tongue.

Adagio found herself biting her lip at the memories. Gods, she wanted him back so badly it burned.

The look in Buck eyes now was of a kind with the adorable, half-drunk astonishment he’d shown when she’d bared herself to him on their first night. Surprised, even now, to discover that she still craved him.

Buck’s hand fell away, lifting slowly to press at his temple. He looked like he was considering a midnight flight to another country.

“What are you tryin’ to do to me, Adagio?” Buck said. “You know I'm sweet on you, and you know me and Ditzy are...I was really hoping we could…"

"What? Be colleagues? Besties, as the kids say?" Adagio said. "You know I don't play "just friends" very well."

Buck blushed at the notion, his mouth moving, trying to find words.

"I-I thought you and me made some progress up there, so why? Why're you doing this now?” Buck said.

“It’s because we made progress, Buck. I meant everything I said up there, just as I mean what I say now.” Adagio said.

“You know that I have a whole life! You know I’m with Ditzy, and still, you keep trying to drag me into…” Buck said.

“What? What am I dragging you into?” Adagio said.

“Somethin’ you know I can’t come back from. I’m trying to learn to control my magic; not make it worse by getting all…” Buck said.

“Intimate?” Adagio smiled.

“Reckless.” Buck said.

“Buck…don’t you think it’s a little late for that? You’ve seen what magic can do, for good or ill.” Adagio said.

“God…all those poor kids.” Buck said, and now he turned away, biting his knuckles.

A painful spike of chaos drove itself in between Adagio’s eyes, and she knew she was only tasting a fraction of Buck’s emotional weight. Adagio reached up to touch Buck’s stubble, locking him into her soft gaze with all the tenderness she could muster.

“Buck, Buck, look at me! Please. I know you have a lot to process right now. I know. We all do! But this is important. Just listen to what I have to say, and I’ll leave.” Adagio said.

“Do you promise?” Buck said. It was barely a whisper.

“I swear it.” Adagio said.

“...fine. I’ll hear you out. But no funny business, alright?” Buck said.

Buck took a step back, letting Adagio’s hand slide off his chin. She instantly felt cold, but she didn’t complain because she understood. Why would he ever feel safe around her? Don’t cry, you old fool, Adagio thought. Don’t you dare start crying. Just get through this mortifying ordeal and you can scream about it later.

“Of course.” Adagio said, and then went quiet. She’d had a whole speech ready in her head, but the moment Buck gave her an invitation, she found it was woefully lacking. Nothing about her proposition seemed easy to explain, or entirely sensical. Adagio reasoned that’s what made expressing emotions so hard. She wanted desperately to be understood.

“...are you gonna…?” Buck said.

“Yes! Yes, I just need to gather my thoughts! This isn’t easy for me, either!” Adagio huffed.

“Okay, take your time.” Buck said. “Do you need me to turn away?”

“No! No. You’re fine.” Adagio said.

She turned away instead, and slapped her cheeks, muttering under her breath.

“I am…Adagio Dazzle. I am the scourge of the Celestial Sea. I am a beast of the abyss who eats men’s hearts. I can do this…just look him in the eye and say it plain.” Adagio murmured. Her knees were shaking.

“You okay?” Buck said.

"Buck, you were wonderful today. But more than that, you showed your greatest strength." Adagio said.

"My fashion sense?" Buck said.

Adagio slapped her forehead and barely contained a sudden urge to laugh.

"I'm talking about your charm, Buck. You made peace with your biggest detractor. You swayed no less than two enemies to our side. You almost certainly would have swayed a third, if I hadn't blundered into your spotlight." Adagio said.

"I don't know if that's totally fair, I mean, all I did was run around and get into shenanigans. I made a big fucking mess, is what I did." Buck said.

"You put down a manic, vicious clone of yourself by hugging it! It was because of your power that I managed to defeat that ghoul Minuette, and likewise, it's because of you that I was able to cushion us all from a sudden death by avalanche Whether you acknowledge it or not, you saved all of our lives." Adagio said.

"Okay, thanks, I guess! But what's that got to do with us?" Buck said.

"Every time we've had an outing like this, I've seen little glimmers of the man you could be if you were placed in the right set of circumstances. Even in the belly of the beast, you kept me warm, and laughing. When I'm next to you, I feel invincible! You shine through me, like light through a diamond. And together, we could be...! Oh, what am I trying to say?" Adagio said.

She paused, expecting Buck to interrupt. He was terrifyingly quiet.

"I know that I’ve kept you at arms length, because I was scared. I was scared of allowing this…intimacy to form between us. I was fearful of what it would do to me. But I can’t use that fear as an excuse to shut you out anymore. I want to have an intimate relationship with you. I want to see what we can be, together.” Adagio said.

"So you want, what, to be my girlfriend again?" Buck said.

"No. It's just as I said. I want to be your pet." Adagio said. “You’re always trying to serve others. Always doing what you think you need to, to make others happy, and it's stifling your power, and the spectacular person you could be. Now, I want to serve you. When you’re with me, I want you to be selfish. Honest.” Adagio said.

“This again?” Buck said.

“I want you to eat when you’re hungry, sleep when you’re tired, and…! When you're horny, I want you to use me.”

“You don’t know what you’re asking me. I'm too much.” Buck said.

“Not for me. Do you remember what you said to me? When we made up, that night in your apartment; you said you want to do everything to me. Well, I want it, too. I want you to take me as you please.”

“That’s…! You know me and Ditzy are-”

“We both know she'll never accept this side of you. She's too small-minded, and too frightened of your power." Adagio said.

"She's trying her best!" Buck said.

"I'm trying to embrace you! I want you to get out every ounce of frustration you've been carrying around in that beautiful mind of yours. I want to spoil you rotten, like you deserve. No catch, no payment, no need for subtlety. I crave your passion, Buck. I’d rather gobble it all down then let you squander it, and if that means you stay with her, only to come to me when you need to, then so be it. I couldn't care less what Ditzy Doo thinks or wants. I'm telling you what I want.” Adagio said.

“This isn't you talking. This is my mana in your head, or something!" Buck said, but there were no hearts in Adagio’s eyes, no drunken smile, no mewling, nuzzling affection. She was serious.

"Oh, for the love of--This is Adagio Dazzle speaking. You should be grateful that I…!” Adagio bit her tongue.

There was something in Buck's eyes; a sort of peculiar recognition.

Buck was remembering what the clone, Heart Song had told him about Adagio; how she craved his power, but didn't want to admit that she truly wanted him. Wanting to be wanted, but afraid of being known. In the chaos that followed, he'd thought it was all just a work, but now he wasn't so sure. He thought, perhaps, Heart Song had used the truth to lull him, rather than lies.

Here he was again; Odysseus on his lonely little boat, making his way back home. He'd just barely escaped the island of Circe and now here was Adagio, a siren trying to lure him into the water. Was he really stupid enough to fall for this again? Buck took in a long breath.

"You really mean it, don't you?" Buck said.

Adagio stood, her arms open, her face red. She was trembling. She looked small, demure, and brave.

"Is it so wrong that I want to hold you again?" Adagio said.

Dire insights into Adagio's true nature faded from Buck's mind. He knew she was bad. And he also knew it took a mammoth effort for her to come as clean as this. And he was so, so tired.

“I…don’t know what to say.” Buck said.

A bit of plastic flew at Buck. He palmed it, and saw that it was a key fob for TenPony Towers. A key to Adagio’s suite, with a little mark of yellow lipstick on it.

“You don't have to decide now. My door is open to you, and I'm not afraid of what you carry through it. That's all.” Adagio said.

“Adagio, this is a lot.” Buck said.

“Just think about it. Please.” Adagio said.

Adagio turned to go, then stopped short. For a terrible moment, Buck was sure she’d run at him and rip his heart out with her teeth. There was a shiver in her shoulders, and then, before he knew what he was doing, Buck's arms were around her. Her cold hands closed around Buck's forearms and she let out a shaky breath.

“I...I will. I promise, I’ll think about it.” Buck said.

He was warm. She wished she could just stand here and squeeze Buck for an eternity. She wished they could lounge beneath his bedspread and embrace, just like this, until the sun rose. She wished for a world where nothing existed but the two of them; not the cloaks, not Canterlot City, not Ditzy Doo, not even her sisters. The thought made her tremble all the more.

“There. I said it. That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Adagio sniffled, more to herself than anyone else.

"Look at me." Buck said.

Adagio turned her head to look up at him. There was a glint of tears in her eyes, but there was that smile again. The rare smile Buck had seen lit by the sun over the boardwalk. Adagio Dazzle’s radiant smile, full of tenderness and whimsy.

"Will you do something for me?" Buck said.

"Anything." Adagio said.

"Will you look me in the eyes and tell me you want me?" Buck said. His voice cracked just a bit. Even now, he feared Adagio would trick him. She couldn't blame him.

Adagio cupped Buck's cheek, and she rose up on her toes. So close, Adagio's raspberry eyes seemed to fill the whole world. So close, Buck could smell the mixed drink on her breath. So close, their lips nearly touched as she whispered to him.

"I want you, Buck. More than I've ever wanted a man. When you need me, you know where to find me. And I don't want you to ask. I'm all yours.” Adagio said.

She kissed the corner of his mouth. Then, with no small amount of reluctance, Adagio untangled herself from Buck's grasp and without another word, she saw herself out.

Sunburst’s jeep puttered its way out of the parking lot. As it left to deliver the rest of Canterlot’s defenders to their homes, its lights passed another vehicle; an entirely unremarkable black sedan.

Buck stared at that little plastic key, turning it over in his hand as the rain poured down the stair’s overhang in dribbling waterfalls. He kept staring at it as he crested the stairs, kept staring as he tuned out Garble and Smolder’s crowing argument coming from next door, and held it up as he laid back on his couch.

Buck’s whole body was sore, and so was his heart. The moment his back touched the couch cushions, he found himself drifting off. Even as his eyes closed, he held the key fob to his chest.

“I’m so fucking hard right now.” Buck mumbled, and then fell dead asleep.

The next day was another moist, muggy Wednesday in downtown Canterlot. The freak rainstorm had blown southward toward Chicoltgo, where it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. It was early-ish, the sky was gray, and a blanket of stuffy fog hung around Sugar Cube Corner.

It was quiet. Normally Wednesdays brought the heaviest rush of the week, but the front door had only jingled once or twice through the whole morning shift.

Scootaloo stood sentinel at the register, looking into the mist past the windows as if she was trying to recall a bad dream. At the same time, Ditzy Doo had a quiet word with Mrs. Cake in the kitchen.

“I don’t see what the issue is, dear. Children can be a bit harsh at times! They’ll grow out of it.” Mrs. Cake said. She was just finishing up prep for the evening shift, filling some cookie cups with scoops of mint chocolate chip ice cream. “Could you bring over the next rack, dear?”

“I’m not talking about rough-housing, I’m talking about bullying. Your Pound Cake has been saying very cruel things to Dinky; the sort of things he’d only say to hurt her feelings!” Ditzy Doo said as she laid a metal tray on the counter.

Ditzy’s expression was soft, but she was clearly frazzled. There was a thick pad of flour just under the protruding bust of her apron, and her hair was a bit unkempt.

“That doesn’t sound like my Pound Cake!” Mrs. Cake said. “Whatever it is, I’m sure Ms. Cheerilee will handle it.”

“Cheerilee has way too much on her hands already. The school barely has enough funding to keep running, let alone keep her ahead of the curve. She’s barely keeping it together over there; I know you can see that! I think Pound Cake is taking advantage of her not paying attention.” Ditzy said.

“Well, I’ll just have to have a talk with her during the bake sale next week.” Mrs. Cake said.

“I want you to have a talk with your son, Chiffon. Dinky was crying last night because Pound Cake made fun of her for not having a Dad. She’s having a hard enough time as it is!”

“I hardly think my son would-”

“If you don’t teach Pound Cake to stop bullying Dinky Doo, I’ll walk. Then you can find someone else to deliver and prep for you.” Ditzy said.

Mrs. Cake saw a mother’s steel in her eyes, and her glibness finally broke. There was an anger there; the kind that only came from years of effort and care.

“...I understand. I’ll have his father set him straight. I’m sorry, dear. How are you? You look like you’ve been missing sleep.” Mrs. Cake said.

“Is it really that easy to tell?” Ditzy said.

“I’m a mother, too.” Mrs. Cake said, laying a tender hand on Ditzy’s shoulder.

For a moment, the small, rotund woman was the warmest presence in the world. Ditzy hugged Mrs. Cake then, who winced in her strong grip, but returned it all the same.

It was almost nostalgic. Ditzy Doo had worked so hard to build a good life; a neat, tidy space for her daughter to grow big and strong, but she could feel a familiar tug on the wind. A distant, needle prick feeling that things were slowly unraveling, out of her control.

“It feels like…like the whole world is pulling away from me.” Ditzy sniffled.

“Why don’t you take the rest of the shift off, dear?” Mrs. Cake said. “I can handle these cookies. You should rest.”

“No, no, I need the money.” Ditzy said.

“I know that’s right.” Mrs. Cake sighed. “Take a thirty, then.”

“Don’t I only get a ten today?” Ditzy said.

“Oh, it’ll still say ten on the sheet, don’t worry. It’ll be our secret; don’t tell Carrot, hm?” Mrs. Cake said, with a wink.

“Thank you, Mrs. Cake!” Ditzy said, and she dragged her feet to the front table. She yawned and laid her head down, letting her prodigious bust act as a pillow.

“Wowsers. What’s it like?” Scootaloo mumbled.

“Hm?” Ditzy said, one eye looking up.

Scootaloo wasn’t lazing about like a stray cat as she usually would. She she moved stiffly, favoring one of her legs. There was a bandage on her head, and a couple nicks on her cheek. She was currently fidgeting with her phone, tapping out some sort of urgent gossip that Ditzy couldn’t guess at.

“What’d you say?” Ditzy said.

“Huh? Oh, nothing!” Scootaloo said, shoving her phone in her pocket.

“Are you okay?” Ditzy Doo said.

“What do you mean? No, nothing’s wrong!” Scootaloo said.

“It’s just, you look kinda roughed up.” Ditzy said.

“Yeah, I fell out of a tornado! Remember my leg?” Scootaloo said.

“Yeah, but that was last week, wasn’t it? Now you’ve got new scrapes. Did something happen?” Ditzy Doo said.

“No, nothing happened! Okay, maybe something happened, a little bit, things maybe got a little crazy, but I’m fine! We’re all fine, everything’s jake!” Scootaloo said.

“...then where’s Buck?” Ditzy said.

“Huh!?” Scootaloo said.

“It’s about the time Buck usually comes in. Is he hurt?” Ditzy said, glancing at the clock. When she looked back, Scootaloo was inching toward the back door.

“Hurt? Buck? He’s good, he just, uh, he really put his uh…his back into it yesterday, so he’s resting! That’s all! He’s hard as nails! Tough! Tough as nails!” Scootaloo said, sweating.

“I didn’t hear him come in last night. Were you all out late?” Ditzy said, sitting up.

“What do you care?” Scootaloo said.

“Excuse me?” Ditzy said.

“I mean, you said you didn’t want to deal with any magic stuff, right? Well…this is that! So, I dunno, like, lay off?” Scootaloo mumbled.

It wasn’t so much an insult, but to Ditzy Doo, the sudden pushback felt like a slap in the face. First Dinky was keeping secrets about being bullied, and now Scootaloo was hiding something.

“Scootaloo, I’m just worried!” Ditzy said.

“Well, don’t! We’ve got it handled!” Scootaloo said.

It was just then that the store’s bell jingled.

Who else should come striding through the thick mist than Adagio Dazzle in her accounting blazer, her hair full of glistening mist. She was ruby-lipped, elevated on a pair of purple platform heels. She was carrying a briefcase in one hand.

She looked straight through Ditzy Doo, who’s straw colored bangs sloppily draped across her face, as she approached the counter.

“My usual, please.” Adagio said.

“Right away!” Scootaloo said.

As Scootaloo scampered to assemble Adagio’s espresso chug nightmare and blood orange tart combo, Ditzy Doo surreptitiously tidied her hair, patting flour from her apron. Adagio stood at the counter, checking her phone. She didn’t even spare Ditzy a glance as she spoke.

“Hello, Ditzy Doo. How are you?” Adagio said.

“None of your business.” Ditzy said.

“That’s fine enough; I wasn’t especially interested.” Adagio said. “I just happen to know someone who would prefer it if we got along.”

“Here you go!” Scootaloo said, ringing Adagio up.

“You’re getting faster at that, Little Birdie. Well done.” Adagio said sweetly, and Scootaloo melted.

“You’resuperwelcomeheylookitthetime!” Scootaloo said, disappearing into the bathroom.

Adagio checked a shimmering gold wrist watch, smiled, and with all the boldness in the world, sat across the table from Ditzy Doo and sipped her concentrated caffeine slurry.

“What do you want?” Ditzy growled. One of her eyes caught a glimpse of Mrs. Cake putting her hands on her hips in the kitchen nook, and so she made an effort to relax. This was a regular customer, and they needed those. Adagio seemed to know it, too.

“I want a short break from my stuffy office. Is that a crime around here?” Adagio said.

“No.” Ditzy said.

“Oh, and one other thing.” Adagio said. “I’d like to speak with the head baker.”

“That would be me, dearie!” Mrs. Cake said, emerging from the back.

“Ah, you must be the famous Mrs. Cup Cake! It’s a delight to finally meet you, after hearing so much.” Adagio said.

With the heat off of her, Ditzy Doo put her head back down on the table. She couldn’t help but hear the conversation.

“Is that so?” Mrs. Cake said.

“Of course! Buck has told me that you’re the absolute pinnacle of confectionery craft here in Canterlot, and your baked goods have been carrying me through the work week since I started at the office down the way. You’re nothing short of a legend.” Adagio said.

“Goodness! That’s such a sweet thing to say! Well, thank you so much for being a regular customer! Goodness knows we need those.” Cup Cake tittered.

Ditzy silently rankled at the flattery, and Mrs. Cake’s bashful response. Didn’t she know Adagio was nothing but trouble?

“Yes, and as a regular, I wanted to do my part to keep my favorite little bakery going strong in these trying times. If it’s not too much trouble, I’d like to commission you for some catering.” Adagio said.

“It would be no trouble at all! May I ask you for the particulars, dearie?” Mrs. Cake said.

“Naturally. Here’s an annotated list.” Adagio said, producing a folder from her briefcase.

Ditzy couldn’t stand to listen anymore. She was suddenly so angry, her ears were ringing. She shut her eyes tight and imagined she was somewhere else; a technique Silver Spoon had taught her in therapy.

“Flowery fields…warm muffins…buzzing bees and bubbles on the breeze…” Ditzy muttered to herself. After some time, the throbbing tin pain in her head ceased.

“two days from now, in the financial office of the Barnyard Bargains super tower. I’ll need your finest couriers to wheel a cart up there. Can you do that?” Adagio said.

“Of course we can! Golly, for an order this big, we’ll do it with bells on our toes!” Mrs. Cake said, salivating.

“Excellent. If you could give me a receipt, I can pay for the commission in full.” Adagio said.

“Now? Isn’t that a bit ahead of time, dearie?” Mrs. Cake said.

“Not at all. Buck has told me you’ve never once failed to complete an order, so I have absolute faith in your execution.” Adagio said.

“Oh, the absolute sweetheart! I’ll have to thank him for making such a wonderful contact. Now let me see here…”

As Mrs. Cake frantically tapped at the register, Ditzy Doo dared to peek at the counter over her arms. She shut her eyes again as Adagio glanced over.

And it was done. Adagio swiped a platinum-gilded card, and folded the lengthy receipt neatly. She shook hands with Mrs. Cake, rattled off some more cellophane pleasantries that made Ditzy feel a bit sick, and then sat at one of the dining tables with a confident, deliberate slowness. She put her back to Ditzy as she snacked on her favorite blood orange tart.

“Ditzy Doo, dearie, once your break is over, I’ll need you in the kitchen. We’ve just got the biggest order of the summer!” Mrs. Cake squealed, practically skipping to the back of the kitchen. The sounds of pots and pans moving deafened the rest of her babbling.

Ditzy Doo said nothing. Her foot stomped petulantly, and before she knew what she was doing, she’d jumped to her feet. Adagio sipped her quintuple espresso, entirely unbothered.

“Hey, you…!” Ditzy barked.

“I have a name.” Adagio said.

“Did...did something happen yesterday?” Ditzy Doo said.

“Why, whatever do you mean?” Adagio said, checking her nails.

Ditzy Doo could practically feel Adagio’s smirk over her shoulder. Her hands clenched into fists. She tried to remember what Silver Spoon had said about confrontations, and drew a blank.

“Buck isn’t in today.” Ditzy said.

“I can see that, yes. Surprisingly observant of you.” Adagio said.

Ditzy Doo circled around and her hands slapped onto the table in front of Adagio, who’s even expression hadn’t wavered. Ditzy thought distantly that Adagio’s eyes had briefly slipped down her cleavage, but it was buried under the noise of a wailing storm siren in her head. She made every effort imaginable to keep her tone even. This was still a place of business, and Adagio was still a customer.

“Scootaloo is all beat up, and Buck isn’t in today! I’m asking you; did something happen yesterday?” Ditzy said.

“He didn’t tell you?” Adagio said. “I suppose he wouldn’t, since it’s none of your business.”

Ditzy Doo longed for a hammer’s weight in her hand. Instead, she felt the deep scrape of her own nails in her palms.

“What happened!?” Ditzy snarled through her teeth. A flash of green sparkled in her eyes. Adagio took in a slow, sumptuous breath over her steaming cup. Ditzy could swear she saw the ghost of a knowing grin behind the curve of the cup’s lip.

“So much happened. I’ll admit, things were complicated for a time, but we came back together in the end.” Adagio said.

“What?” Ditzy said.

“Buck and I. And all of us. We all came together, and now we’re tight as a drum. Even Starlight Glimmer and I are getting along. Who could have thought it? Oh, but it’s nothing you’d want to be concerned with.” Adagio said.

“What are you talking about?” Ditzy said.

“I should thank you. It’s good that you sent Buck away with us. The distance lent him a certain…clarity.” Adagio said.

“What. Did you. Do?” Ditzy growled.

Adagio’s only answer was a knowing grin.

Just as it seemed Ditzy would flip the table, Adagio set her drink down, and rose. Even with the heels, she was shorter than Ditzy Doo, and yet Ditzy flinched like the siren was as big as a bear.

“Well! I’m going to take my lunch down the street, since I can’t get a moment’s peace here. Thank you, as always, for your service.” Adagio said.

She rose elegantly, turned on her heel with a flip of her hair, and made her way out.

“Oh, and try not to frown so much, dear. You’ll get even more wrinkles.” Adagio said.

Heels clacked across the linoleum floor. The shop bell jingled, leaving Ditzy Doo with nothing but her heaving breaths, and a bit of blood trickling through her fingers.

She couldn’t scream. She couldn’t swing. She couldn’t do anything but seethe in this glass cage of propriety.

She was fully out of the loop, just as she’d requested, and it was driving her to distraction.

Pages flipped under a beam of soft yellow lamp light. The curtains had been closed to the oppressive noonlight, casting Sunburst’s suite in shadows. Gentle lofi beats pulsed through the scholarly space as Canterlot’s premiere scholar of the arcane wrote line after line in a little notebook. Sunburst’s free index finger scanned across a mythological bestiary, one from his own earth. He’d stopped on a page depicting a satyr; an ancient, half-man-half-goat creature of revelry and sexuality, blowing on a pan flute while sporting a proud erection. He blushed, turned the page and found another poignant image; a trio of erinyes, the three legendary furies of greek mythology. The goddesses of vengeance had blood red wings and black dresses, breathing flame, wielding handfuls of hissing serpents.

Another turned page brought an image of a ghastly swordsman rising out of the earth, a baleful light shining in its hollow eye sockets.

“There. Revenants…it says the only way to handle them is to conclude their business in the mortal plane. But what does that mean in our case?” Sunburst muttered, scribbling in a notepad. With his free hand, he sent out a short message via mass text. Everyone needed to know this.

A short alarm buzzed on Sunburst’s phone, and he snapped out of his laser focus. He quietly rose and tipped a watering can over a philodendron on the kitchen windowsill.

“Did you find anything?” Starlight said.

Sunburst shuddered, turning to see Starlight Glimmer. She was still in her pajamas, leaning against the kitchen eave, tipping a box of Dash’s Rainbow Flakes over a bowl. It had a picture of Rainbow Dash on the cover, her neck bangled by a quintet of Olympic gold medals.

“...yes. I think you’re right. These transformations aren’t random. There’s some cultural basis in them. Sunset Shimmer became a demon, because that’s what her particular brand of mania led her to. And she was able to hypnotize the student body and turn them into imps.” Sunburst said.

“And when Adagio Dazzle powered up at Canterlot High, she manifested her original siren form, because that’s what she wanted; to return to her old glory.” Starlight said. “So these undead cultists, they’re inducing a sort of awakening. Burnt Oak had burning wood on his arms.”

“An treant, maybe? Do they have those in Equestria?” Sunburst said. “And Minuette…that’s tricky. I only ever saw her with a unicorn horn. We have to assume she’s awakening, at least partially, into something with an affinity for the cold.”

“Where do you think she is on the chart?” Starlight said.

“Definitely chaotic. But she was manipulating ice. Maybe close to the center?” Sunburst said.

“Maybe. Something doesn’t seem right, there…” Starlight said. She bent down to reach into the fridge.

Sunburst was silently enjoying a view of Starlight’s perky butt, when her bad leg suddenly buckled. He rushed to Starlight’s side as she stumbled down to one knee.

“Are you alright?” Sunburst said.

“Stupid, useless fucking leg…!” Starlight growled. She grabbed one of the fridge shelves to try and get up, but her hand slipped with a clatter. Sunburst gently brought her to her feet.

“What were you trying to get? Milk?” Sunburst said. “Here, I’ll pour it for you.”

“Useless.” Starlight spat, slamming her fist into the floor. “I was useless in there! Worse! I was a liability!”

“Now, don’t say that. You were under a lot of pressure, and-”

“I turned into a fucking monster! The kind I swore I would protect this city from! I killed them, Sunburst! I killed children!” Starlight sobbed.

“I understand, Starlight. I’m here.” Sunburst said. He reached down, but Starlight slapped his hand away, grabbing the counter to haul herself to her feet.

“And then I just…I just sat across from all of you like it was nothing! Laughing! Like Adagio isn’t…like I’m not just as bad as she is!” Starlight said.

“It’s alright…it’s alright…” Sunburst said.

“It was a mess…!” Starlight said.

“So the only thing we can do is keep on living, and try to learn from it.” Sunburst said.

Starlight fell again. Her leg hurt so badly, even just standing was agony. Sunburst caught her under her arm.

“It’s okay, it’s okay, I’ve got you…” Sunburst said, and he carefully maneuvered her until she lay back on the couch.

“Sunburst…I failed. How can I ever face them again?” Starlight whimpered.

“Who?” Sunburst said.

“Ditzy Doo! Sunset Shimmer! Anyone; everyone!” Starlight said.

“They’ll understand. Just like I do.” Sunburst said.

Starlight looked at Sunburst, mortified. She wrapped her arms around his neck and clung to him desperately, her sobs turning into gasps.

“They’re going to take me away! They’re going to…they’re going to take me away and lock me up!” Starlight said.

“Who, Starlight? The cult?” Sunburst said.

“The Pillars! I…I’m compromised!” Starlight said.

“Starlight, look at me. You are not a monster! It’s obvious there are things you need to work through, and that’s fine! I’m here for you! But you are not a monster! No one is defined by their worst day!” Sunburst said.

“Oh, can it with the social worker crap, Sunburst! If you hadn’t–if I hadn’t been stopped, I might’ve…I don’t even want to think about it!”

“We won, Starlight!” Sunburst said.

“What are you talking about!?” Starlight said.

“We accomplished our mission; we saved the hostages, and we neutralized the threat to Canterlot. We’ll have time to grieve and process this, but you need to recognize that we all worked together, and we won. That’s enough. It has to be enough.” Sunburst said. “Just, for now, let yourself rest.”

“They’re going to want to know what I did. What I became.” Starlight said, wiping her eyes.

“Then I need you to tell me exactly what happened during the attack on the hive, so I can figure out what to tell them in the report. I’m not letting them take you, or anyone else. We saved the world yesterday. I’ll make them see that.” Sunburst said.

“...I dropped the cereal.” Starlight said.

“I’ll clean it up. Do you want another bowl?” Sunburst said.

“No. I’d probably just drop it again. Or slip and fall, or break something.” Starlight said.

“What did we say about negative self-talk?” Sunburst said.

“That I’m tired, and I want you to lay on top of me and hold me so I don’t get up again.” Starlight said, holding out her arms.

Sunburst settled down, sliding his arms around Starlight. She squished him against her chest. He could feel a bit of wetness as she laid her cheek against the top of his head.

“We’re going to figure this out.” Sunburst said.

“I love you, Sunburst.” Starlight whined.

“I love you too, Starlight Glimmer.” Sunburst said.

The sun was just starting to droop toward the western horizon. The thick fog rose up to the rooftops as the evening cool drifted in. The front windows of the Dusty Pages Memorial Library were frosted with dew so thick, it was impossible to see outside. Dedicated students, impassioned hobbyists, and homeless people seeking a quiet asylum sat and studied in respectful silence. A silence that was broken by a pair of platform heels clacking briskly along the old marble floors.

Adagio Dazzle honed in on a distinctive aura she’d only tasted once; a steady, heady red wine flavor which was shot through with bitter anxiety. She followed it across the library’s central study space, rolling her eyes as Smolder, bent over a map, casually flipped her off.

“Hello? Could you help me? I’m looking for a bit of information.” Adagio said.

Moon Dancer looked down at her from her perch on a rolling ladder, nonplussed.

“Well, you’ve come to the right place. What exactly do you want?” Moon Dancer said.

Adagio looked around carefully. No prying eyes or ears. Good.

“I was just wondering if you had any information about a girl named Minuette.” Adagio said.

Moon Dancer nearly fell from the ladder.

“What exactly are you trying to pull?” Moon Dancer said.

“Just what I said. Minuette. Blue skin, obnoxiously bright smile? Are you acquainted?” Adagio said.

“And if I was?” Moon Dancer said.

“Oh, well, I happened to meet her. Just yesterday, as a matter of fact, and it wasn’t the first time.” Adagio said.

“Is this some sort of sick joke?” Moon Dancer said.

Adagio blinked. There it was again. Something dark and angry at the core of this brusque, pudgy girl. Like a coiled snake, ready to lash out. There was just a trickle of magic here, somewhere, though Adagio couldn’t quite make it out. And Buck was fond of her, too.

“Do I look like I’m joking?” Adagio frowned.

“Ugh. I don’t have time to humor the ramblings of some toxic, washed-up pop idol!” Moon Dancer said, and she returned to organizing her cart of unshelved books.

“And what if I told you that it's a matter of life and death?” Adagio said. “Would that get your attention, you pompous little-”

“Hey! Quit harassing the staff!” Smolder barked. The scattered people around the stacks glanced over at Adagio and frowned.

Adagio glared at Moon Dancer, who didn’t bother to treat her with a look back.

“Listen I’m…sorry.” Adagio said, her voice dropping low. “I don’t mean to slink around and provoke you, I just want answers. Your city is in danger, and I’m trying to get to the bottom of it.”

“Where’s Cauldron Bubbles?” Moon Dancer said.

“Who?” Adagio said.

“Cauldron Bubbles. My landlord. She deals in magical bullshit, drugs and sex toys. Buck said you would try to save her.” Moon Dancer said.

“She and the rest of the civilians escaped during the chaos. If she isn’t home already, she should be soon.” Adagio said.

Moon Dancer squinted at Adagio’s cavalier attitude. She pulled a phone out; one that trailed with old plastic charms; some ghost type pokemon, a little dracula, and a spiked collar.

Adagio raised an eyebrow at that.

Moon Dancer tapped the phone’s screen, maintaining eye-contact with Adagio the entire time.

“What are you doing?” Adagio said.

“Checking to see if you’re full of it.” Moon Dancer said.

Adagio crossed her arms and tsked, but said nothing else as Moon Dancer began a text conversation.

“...Buck says you aren’t lying, at least.” Moon Dancer said. “Is he alright?”

“He’s fine; just tired.” Adagio said.

“What do you want to know about Minuette?” Moon Dancer said.

“Why don’t you set us up with a booth, where we can speak privately?” Adagio said.

As Adagio and Moon Dancer moved to a more isolated spot, Smolder narrowed her eyes. Once in a private booth, Adagio told Moon Dancer about what she’d experienced; about the undead nightmare that was Minuette, and her sad, manic story about losing friends in a car crash. Moon Dancer gave her names: Lyra Heartstrings, Twinkleshine, Lemon Hearts, Twilight Sparkle and Minuette.

Adagio was taken aback by the name of one of her mortal foes, but she tried not to let it show on her face. She tried to focus on the task at hand.

“I don’t think we’ve seen the last of her. Is there anything else you can tell me that might be relevant?” Adagio said.

Moon Dancer stared at Adagio then, as if she was looking for some sort of hidden camera over her shoulder.

“Anything at all. The more we know about her and your friends, the better.” Adagio said.

“…here.” Moon Dancer said, passing Adagio a little note card.

“Nurse Sweetheart at the Canterlot Charity Hospital…” Adagio read aloud.

“Shh! You can go there whenever. Say you’re there to tag in for Moon Dancer. And take this with you.” Moon Dancer said, handing Adagio a small, slightly battered novel.

“...the Taking of Sleeping Beauty by Anne Rice?” Adagio said.

“It’s her favorite.” Moon Dancer said.

Adagio flipped the cover around, and found herself befuddled by the description.

“Oh, this is filthy.” Adagio said. “What exactly am I supposed to do with this?”

But she was talking to an empty booth. Moon Dancer had slipped out at some point, and though Adagio looked around the stacks, she couldn’t find her again.

As Adagio made her way out of the library, Smolder skulked through the rows of shelves. She listened carefully, moving around the stacks until she came across Moon Dancer, who was near the exit, hastily pulling on a jacket.

“Hey, girl, hey!” Smolder said. “Are you okay?”

“I’m going home.” Moon Dancer said.

“That witch is pretty nasty, right? She hurt your feelings?” Smolder said.

Moon Dancer glanced at her, and without a word, made a swift exit.

Smolder blinked twice. Any other day, she’d follow her common sense and mind her damn business. But she’d had a strange feeling in her guts since the sudden cloudburst yesterday, one of those odd chills you feel as you start to get a little older.

Adagio Dazzle was just sliding into her immaculate custom car when Smolder caught up to her.

“Hey, Ice Queen!” Smolder said.

Adagio looked around, then pointed incredulously at herself.

“Yeah, I’m talkin’ to you!” Smolder said.

“Oh, it’s you again. What is it? Need someone to polish your scales? Is fire coming out of strange places? I hear they have pills for that, now.” Adagio said, rising slowly.

“Where do you get off making librarians cry, huh?” Smolder hissed, an edge of reptilian malice around her eyes.

Surrounded by mist and still feeling the current of Buck’s mana coursing through her, Adagio knew implicitly that she could snuff out this creatures’ life if necessary.

“Whatever you saw had nothing to do with me. I came to ask her some questions, and she came away with some news, both good and bad.” Adagio said.

“Like I believe that.” Smolder said. She drew closer, a hand slapping onto Adagio’s hood. Adagio spied a hint of orange scales on her arm.

“You don’t have to believe anything, just like I don’t have to explain anything. I don’t answer to you, you limp-tailed gecko.” Adagio said.

“Listen, you. I’m working with the Pillars too, so we're collaborators. Or something!”

“You were more than enough liability at the fair, I don’t want you compromising my operations now.” Adagio said.

“Where are Sunburst and Buck?” Smolder said.

“Why do all of you people assume I’m some sort of babysitter?” Adagio said.

“If you’ve done something to them, I swear–” Smolder said.

“You swear what, exactly? You’ll sprout wings and try to kidnap them again?” Adagio said.

“That was your fault!” Smolder snarled.

There was a dry heat evaporating the mist around her. An outline of horns curling through the fog around her head. It wasn’t like Buck’s sweet, spicy flavor, but the heavy tongue burn of barely-contained rage.

“Is that what the Pillars told you? Or was it Ditzy Doo? No matter. Your opinion doesn’t concern me, child. Go back inside; see if all your maps and charts can help you get a clue.” Adagio said.

Smolder looked like she was about ready to spit flame and ruin Adagio’s fancy new ride. But then calm rolled over her expression. She wouldn’t be so easily provoked.

“Ugh. Talking to you is like trying to grab an oily fish. That’s fine, I’ll just go ask Buck how he’s doing.” Smolder said, lighting a cigarette.

Something deeply petty in Adagio flared up. The mists formed a pair of gray fingers and snuffed out the cancer stick before Smolder could take a drag.

“What exactly is your relationship with those two?” Adagio said.

“College friend, roleplay buddy, baddest bitch they know.” Smolder said.

Adagio got a little chuckle out of that. Smolder frowned.

“Oh, certainly. And how well do you know Buck, exactly?” Adagio said.

“Intimately.” Smolder said, with a toothy grin.

"Well, how nice for you. As you saw at the fair, both Buck and Sunburst have gotten along just fine without you. This little guard dog act? It's pathetic." Adagio said.

"You know, people like dogs. Better than being a back-biting snake like you." Smolder said.

"The only person with a forked tongue around her is you, worm!" Adagio said.

Adagio reached for a rapier that was no longer at her hip, then with a great force of will, managed to swallow down this interloper’s presence like a bitter medicine. Another feckless goaltender that she needed to maneuver around. It didn’t matter; she’d already won.

“I don't have time for this.” Adagio sighed. “Just do yourself a favor; don’t pick a fight with me. We both know how it’ll go.”

“Are they hurt, or not?” Smolder said.

“They’re fine.” Adagio said. “Now move. I’ve had enough talk about men and the women who treat them like precious porcelain plates.”

Adagio’s sleek, golden car sliced through the misty streets before Smolder could protest any further. It roared up the street, disappearing into the fog on its way to the north side of town.

Dark clouds drifted lazily out over the great lake, showering Canterlot in golden rays as the sun set. The thick mists caught the light, sending dazzling dapples across the wet streets.

A pale woman in a dark mauve suit and a blue bow tie moved through the lengthening shadows of TenPony Tower’s swanky lobby space. Her mulberry haired, streaked with a bubbly pink, was coiffed into a set of flawless, almost geometrically identical bangs. The uppity elite populating the lobby took a glance at her ice blue skin and piercing cherry eyes, and felt the world shift beneath her. There were those in this world that thought they were important, and then there were those that simply knew.

Shortly thereafter, there was a knock at Sunbursts’ door. It opened with a soft creak, revealing a bedraggled Sunburst, a pencil dangling from his goatee.

“Yes, can I…oh. Hello!” Sunburst said.

“Your report is late, Agent Sunburst.” Said the woman. She seemed about Sunbursts’ age, but her eyes were as dense and intimidating as a tax form. She raised her wrist, where a strange metal device with a screen was strapped. There was a light beeping as she tapped it, then a ticking LCD timer appeared in the air just above it. “Eight hours, twenty-three minutes and seventeen seconds late.” She finished.

“It’s nice to see you too, Sunny Flare.” Sunburst said, resignedly.

“I always am.” Sunny Flare said.

“Would you like to come in for a cup of tea?” Sunburst said.

“I would like you to do your job, Agent Sunburst. And that’s Deputy Inspector to you.” Sunny Flare said.

“Well then, Deputy Inspector, I have your report. Is there any reason why you wanted it in physical, rather than the usual file?” Sunburst said.

Sunburst bent down over the coffee table to grab a thick folder marked “The Hive Incident: Ground Zero Account.”

Starlight Glimmer was not in the living room.

“I wanted to assess you in person. This is more efficient.” Sunny Flare said, with the smallest smile Sunburst had ever seen. She tapped on her little wrist computer, and a green beam swept across Sunburst’s form. There was a slight dial-up screech and then a holographic display scrolled through a document in the air.

“Agent Sunburst. Scholar, Hedge Mage.” Sunny Flare read.

“I could have sworn I asked them to change that to “wizard.” Sunburst grumbled.

“Master’s Degree in Sociology, Bachelor’s in Psychiatric Studies, a Minor in Cultural Studies. How’s your humanities degree treating you? Still useless?” Sunny Flare said.

As she spoke, Sunny Flare manipulated the hologram with her fingers, and various files flitted into the air in front of her. Here was a snippet from Sunburst’s dissertation; “Magical Thinking and the Monomyth”, there was a form detailing various spells Sunburst had cast, and a diagram of a human figure with a pair of ears and a horn traced above it. In the center of the figure’s chest was a little graphic design of an orange sun casting yellow beams.

“Sunny Flare, I am exhausted.” Sunburst said.

“Power Level: Flash Bee. Though capable of short to medium-ranged bursts of magical activity, Agent Sunbursts’ mana reserves are low for a unicorn-oriented individual. Suggested role; mediation and clean-up. Hm…no trace of corrupted mana. But your blood sugar level is quite low.”

“There is a hole in my side. Why are you doing this now?” Sunburst said.

“I have eye-witness reports on your mission, and I must say, I’m frankly shocked at how it spun out of control. Colluding with enemy forces? Creating a massive rift in the open air above the Everfree Mountain Range? Destroying private property, and failing to apprehend your target. You had quite an outing, didn’t you?” Sunny Flare said.

She glanced casually at Sunburst over her scrolling text and found that he didn’t show any outward reaction to her accusations. She frowned as he sipped a steaming mug of tea.

“If we’re under assessment, you know you need to make an appointment. You can’t just swoop in here and read my dossier whenever you want.” Sunburst said.

“As a matter of fact, I’ve been instructed to make sure I drum up an accurate file about you, Starlight Glimmer, and the incidentals that have been drawn into your escapades, including the rogue element Adagio Dazzle.” Sunny Flare said.

“There are rules, Sunny Flare. I know you have them memorized; you always were a stickler. You have your report. I insist you leave my home and make a formal appointment, like you know you’re legally obligated to do.” Sunburst said.

Sunny Flare narrowed her eyes. She was a bit taller than Sunburst, and was looking down her nose at him.

“Or, we could sit down and have some tea. I'd love to hear how you’re getting on at the Seaddle location!” Sunburst said.

The holograms retreated back into Sunny Flare’s wrist-mounted device.

“The assessment will be Saturday, one week from now. Noon, at the warehouse. Bring all of them.” Sunny Flare said.

“Wonderful. We’ll see you then!” Sunburst said, to Sunny Flare’s back, which was headed through the front door.

“I suggest you take this seriously; your future with the Pillars is very much at stake.” Sunny Flare said.

“I promise, we’ll all be on our best behavior!” Sunburst said. “Take care, now.”

“...and stop acting like we’re friends.” Sunny Flare said, shutting the door behind her.

Sunburst peered through the peephole for a few tense seconds, then his shoulders drooped. He couldn’t remember ever being quite so tired before.

Starlight Glimmer poked her head out of the bedroom.

“Is she gone?” Starlight said.

The lower east side was bathed in a soupy fog. Outside Buck’s apartment building, the only thing visible in the curtain of gray was the old light post at the end of the parking lot, flickering like a fluorescent candle in the dark.

Little red scribbles drifted through Buck’s living space like wandering mirages as he went about the laborious process of doing nothing. He had nowhere to be and nothing to do. It was just him, his thoughts, and all the guilt that came with them.

At some point after an inglorious breakfast of hotdogs with no buns he’d left in the fridge, Buck had sat down in front of his computer to write. It was a habit he’d started, lapsed on and started again more times than he could count. Less a diary and more of a brain dump. At first, his ramblings fell out of his hands like a sudden rainfall, but soon it lessened to a trickle of second, third and seventh thoughts about the previous day’s events.

By the time Buck finished dissociating, the sun had set again.

“What the fuck am I doing with my life?” Buck said.

He shut off the computer and saw the blazing eyes of his doppelganger in the reflection. With a slow, creaking motion, Buck let his head slump onto the keyboard.

“…is this what it’s gonna be like every time?” Buck said.

It was strange to be here again, after such an earth-shaking sequence of events. Lost in a malaise of guilt and rising self-loathing. Before long, Buck found himself laying on his couch, scrolling through old pictures on his replacement phone. It was a fancy new model, quick as a whip and full of essential memories that had been stored in the cloud long ago.

Buck quickly swiped past a picture of himself and Her, smiled at a picture of him and his sister, and landed on an old one from high school. It was the girls, back before all the drama and yelling. The Rainbooms; vibrant and wild, throwing their caps up on graduation day, their smiles wide and their eyes bright. Buck’s finger was slightly in the shot.

“Was it ever this hard for you guys? Maybe I should…No. Nobody wants to be bothered with me.” Buck said.

Buck scrolled through his contacts, skipping over the Rainbooms who’s numbers he still had. It was less than half of them, and he was pretty sure Sunset had scrapped her old phone ages ago. His thumb briefly hovered over one marked “Sis.” He had a lot to talk over with her, and not just about himself.

“She’d tell me to suck it up.” Buck sighed, smiling. “And Mom would tell me to pray. No help.”

It was then that Buck noticed Adagio’s name at the very top, flanked by little purple sparkles.

Buck shut his phone. He tried not to think about how Ditzy would react to the news that he had stuck his dick in another supervillain and hatched a bastard child all in the day after they’d started their break. He couldn’t believe the person he’d become. He wasn’t even sure if it was a bad thing. At some point in all that chaos, he’d had some fun.

"If I tell Ditzy all of that, will she ever talk to me again?" Buck said. His empty apartment didn't have an answer.

Buck poured himself a bowl of knock off Spectro Flakes cereal, the kind that came in a big plastic bag, and ran out of milk before he could fill the bowl. While he miserably ran some faucet water over his makeshift dinner, his front door creaked open.

Buck’s whole body tensed. His brain was ready for just about anything, but his body was still exhausted. He turned, the air around his head shimmering like a mirage as his eyes fell on…a pair of low yellow eyes, peeking through the cracked door.

“...Dinky Doo?” Buck said.

Before Buck could even get his arms out, the seven-year-old had jumped up to hug him. She was shaking, snorting snot up into her nose as she clung to Buck.

“Oof! Hey, kiddo!” Buck said.

“You’re here! You came back!” Dinky said.

“Well, yeah, of course! Why wouldn’t I come back?” Buck said.

“‘Cause, ‘cause Mama said you were sick, like my Papa and he went away, and Pound Cake said it was because I’m bad at numbers and construction paper, and–and you were gone so long, I thought-” Dinky rambled.

“Okay, okay! Let’s slow it down. Here, get down.” Buck said, and though he lowered Dinky to the floor, she still clung to his leg with her little purple arms. Buck tore out a paper towel and held it up to Dinky’s nose. “Blow.”

Dinky blew her nose with a honk, and Buck ran her a glass of water, which she gulped down. Buck smiled, remembering his Dad’s voice from back when he was Dinky’s age.

“Slowly, now. Water’s good for you, but not all at once.” Buck said. Dinky nodded, coughing, and started to drink in little sips. Buck kneeled down and tousled her hair.

“There you go…there’s a good girl. Now, take it from the top. You thought I was gonna disappear?” Buck said.

“Mama said you were sick! I was…I was scared you were gonna go away forever! And it’s my fault…” Dinky said.

“No, Dinky Doo. It’s not on you. You know how you grow a little every year?” Buck said, pointing at his door. There were still a bunch of little pencil marks in the frame, from when they would record Dinky’s growth spurts.

“Uh-huh.” Dinky said.

“Remember how you used to climb up on my closet shelf to hide? But then one day, you couldn’t fit in there anymore?” Buck said.

“Yuh-huh. It was sad…” Dinky said.

“But, do you also remember when you used to have to get up on Mama’s shoulders to see over the counter at Sugar Cube Corner? But now you’re tall enough to do it by yourself?” Buck said.

“Yeah! They gots pots and pans and machines that go brrrr!” Dinky said.

“Right! Well, you getting taller, it’s maybe a little sad, and a little scary. It’s a change. That’s the thing about people; we’re growing all the time, in a buncha little ways. And sometimes, if you don’t notice, it seems like we change all at once. That’s what’s happening to me, Dinky. I had to go and deal with something really scary, and at the same time, I’m changing. It’s not…bad. It’s different.”

“Okay…” Dinky said. She wrung her hands and swayed on her feet in that little way she always did when Ms. Cheerliee gave out homework.

“C’mon. Let’s go sit down.” Buck said.

Soon enough, Buck was sitting on the couch, Bluey was on the TV, and Dinky was drawing with crayons on the coffee table as if all was right in the world. It was a picture of a blobby house, with three people-like things in front of it. One of them, a woman, had uneven eyes, and the man had big, broad shoulders.

“Buck…why did Mama send you away? I thought Mama loves you! Why would she send you away, like my Papa?” Dinky said. She didn’t look up as she spoke.

“Aw, kiddo…it’s not like that. I…listen, your Dad was sick. He was sick in a way that made him really dangerous. Your Mama didn’t send him away; he had to go, because he was hurting people. That’s not your Mama’s fault, and it’s not your fault either. It’s nobody’s fault. Your Mama saw I was changing, and it scared her.” Buck said.

“A’cause change is scary sometimes.” Dinky said.

“That’s right. Change is what grown ups are the most scared of. Your Mama works really hard so you two can live a good life together. And so when she saw me change, she was scared it would mess up all that work. She needed to get away while we both figure things out.” Buck said.

“Did it hurt your feelings?” Dinky said.

“...a little. But that’s okay. Sometimes big feelings can hurt. They can make you really scared, or really, really mad. But they can also make you happy. Did anything happen lately that made you happy?” Buck said.

“Ooh! I found this!” Dinky said.

Buck fought a disgusted grimace as Dinky Doo pulled a dirty little bird skull from her overall’s pocket.

“Oh! Uh…that’s…great! That’s really cool, Dinky!” Buck said.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah! I had to hide it from Ms. Cheerilee, ‘cause she said bones are gross and bad. Don’t tell nobody, okay?” Dinky said.

“Hey now, bones aren’t bad! We’re all full’a bones!” Buck said.

“That’s what I said! But Ms. Cheerliee said I’m not supposed to pick them up, and to go wash my hands.” Dinky huffed.

“Oh, well, you should definitely wash your hands. C’mon, I’ll get this thing nice and clean.” Buck said.

“Okay! I know the wash your hands song! Scrub scrub scrub, rub-a-dub-dub, twist your hands together~!” Dinky said.

For just a moment, things were normal; Buck was just some guy next door to a nice family again, and there were no monsters or zombies or dead kids, just a normal night like any other. He’d just finished washing the suds off the rook skull when suddenly there was a clatter outside. The next door over slammed shut, and there was a frantic patter of feet in the hallway.

“Dinky Doo? Dinky Doo! Where are you!?” Ditzy said.

Buck turned to see Ditzy standing in his doorway, out of her mind with panic. She’d come in so suddenly, Dinky hid behind Buck.

“I’m here, Mama.” Dinky said quietly.

“Oh, Dinky! Mama was so worried! I-oh! Uhm…hi, Buck.” Ditzy said.

“Hey, Muffin.” Buck said, with a meek smile. He was glad to see her, even in this circumstance.

“Have you been here all day? Are you okay?” Ditzy said.

“That’s, uhhh…that’s a big question. I’ve been, uh, catching my breath.” Buck said.

“Did something happen?” Ditzy said.

“Yeah, uh, a lot of big feelings.” Buck said. "I got a little beat up, that's all."

“Scary.” Dinky said.

"Well, I'm glad you're alright." Ditzy sighed, and Buck watched her unclench her hands. She wiped her eyes and put her hands on her hips.

“Dinky Doo! You scared me half to death! I thought I told you; you can’t come over here right now! Buck is sick! You don’t want to get sick too, do you?” Ditzy started.

“It’s okay, Mama! Buck said that he’s just changing! And, and, it’s okay if it’s scary!” Dinky said.

“Oh, he did, did he?” Ditzy said.

“Uh-oh.” Buck said.

“Well, tell me something, Mister Man, did you fix your little problem?” Ditzy said.

Buck wasn’t sure about this new tone Ditzy was taking. She was tapping her foot with an almost motherly fury; like he’d neglected to do his third grade homework.

“I don’t think fix is the word...not exactly. It was really chaotic out there.” Buck said.

“What does that mean?” Ditzy said.

“I mean it’s…it’s complicated. Complicated, like, we need to have a serious talk. You and me. I think I made a breakthrough, though. I figured out where my..." Buck trailed off, looking from Ditzy's strained expression to Dinky's curious one.

"I uh, I tapped into the source of my problem. I know where it's coming from now, and I just…I needed to vent. That was part of it.” Buck said.

“Oh, right, venting. I bet you did plenty of venting with that Adagio Dazzle while you were out there!” Ditzy said.

“Wait, wait, what-”

“It’s only been a couple of days since we…! How could you?” Ditzy said.

“Wait a minute. What do you mean? Did Scoots say something?” Buck said.

“She didn’t need to! Adagio came to the bakery and she…she put in an order, and…!” Ditzy said.

“And what? What'd she do?” Buck said.

“I don’t know! I don’t know what you and that little witch are getting up to out there, but I won’t have Dinky be involved with it!” Ditzy said.

“Muffin, you know I would never-”

“Don’t you Muffin me!” Ditzy shrieked. “And don’t you lie to me! I know something happened!”

“Mama’s scary…” Dinky said, hiding her face against Buck’s leg.

“Ditzy please. We can talk this through." Buck said.

"Not when you're keeping secrets from me!" Ditzy said.

"Do you want to know what happened, or not?" Buck said. His voice came out harsher than he'd wanted. A spark of red popped next to his head.

"Yes! But not if...I don't know! I don't know!" Ditzy said.

Ditzy could see little red exclamations shimmering around Buck’s head. She saw beating cartoon hearts, and comically oversized head veins, and the shadow of a writhing, rail-thin form outlined in red.

"...she was here, wasn't she? Adagio." Ditzy said.

"Huh?" Buck said.

"What did she...what did you do with her here?" Ditzy said.

"Nothin'! We had a talk, that's all!" Buck said. For the briefest moment, there was a hint of Adagio’s unmistakable profile whispering something in Buck’s ear. Ditzy's eyes narrowed.

"What did she say to you?" Ditzy said.

"Look, I know why you’re shaken up; Starlight told me about the thing in Fillydelphia, with Sugar Belle, and Firelight-”

“Don’t say that man’s name in this house!” Ditzy gasped.

“I’m not like him, Ditzy! I'm still me!” Buck said.

“No, you’re not! Something’s…something’s happened to the Buck I know! He would never go and…he wouldn’t snoop around about my…none of this is okay! And now you’ve got my daughter over here, and you’re putting who knows what into her head!” Ditzy said.

“I was just trying to help!” Buck said. “She’s having a hard time, and I-”

“You don’t think I know that!? You don’t think I can tell when something is happening? All of you think clumsy old Ditzy Doo has a head full of rocks, is that it?” Ditzy said.

“No! No, Ditzy, that’s not what I’m saying at all!” Buck said. He took a step forward, arms outstretched. “I’m saying I understand! I’m saying we can work this out!”

“You need to work yourself out! And until then, I don’t want you near my daughter, do you understand? Dinky, we’re leaving.” Ditzy said, taking her daughter by the arm.

“I wanna stay with Buck!” Dinky said.

“We’re going home, Dinky. Now!” Ditzy said.

“NO!” Dinky said.

Buck let out a rattling sigh. He patted Dinky's head, looking down at her with a sorrowful look in his eyes.

“I don't wanna go!” Dinky said. “It's not fair! He's not bad, Mama! He’s not bad! Why are you yelling at him?”

“It’s alright, Dinky Doo. Listen to your Mama, okay?” Buck said. “It’s like I said; we’re all having some big feelings right now. But it’s gonna be alright.”

Dinky had tears in her eyes again, and this time, Buck couldn’t hold his back.

“Promise! Pinky promise!” Dinky said.

“Cross my heart, hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye.” Buck said, doing a little motion with his hands. “Go on home.”

Dinky wrenched her arm out of Ditzy’s grasp, and she ran from the apartment. Buck could hear her little feet scuttle next door, and then the slam of Ditzy’s bedroom door. A space that had once been open to Buck was shut tight. He glanced at Ditzy, who looked like she was walking through a dream, as if even she was shocked by her own outburst.

“Don't shut me out.” Buck tried. "I know this is all confusing, and complicated, but I'm telling you, I'm getting better. You know I still love-"

“Don’t. Just don't.” Ditzy said. And then she, too, was gone.

It was a pain Buck was all too familiar with. An ache in the chest; like his heart was being slowly torn in half. All he truly knew is that he was frightened about what was happening, both to his body and his life. It was like some strange second puberty in technicolor. In times like this, Buck had only one option left.

He picked up his old guitar, did a little plucking and fell, slowly and tenderly into a blues song. It was all Buck could do not to sob. Though his hands shook and his eyes hurt, a melody poured out of his fingers and filled the living room with his strange, melancholic feelings.

Even after saving the world, Buck was lost. Lost in the space between what he wanted and what he needed.

Scootaloo, by contrast, was in no way lost. She had been so delighted to have a functioning ankle again, she’d decided to test it out by…walking around one of the most dangerous neighborhoods in the city alone. At night. In a fog thicker than a bowl of chunky pea soup. By complete coincidence, it was also the neighborhood that held Buck’s apartment.

For Scootaloo, things after the previous night were considerably simpler. She could only vaguely remember fragments of the harrowing visions she’d suffered at the hooves of the spookum that attempted to invade her world. She assumed that was a normal thing that happened when super-heroics were going on. She’d pretty successfully repressed how fucked up things had gotten in the hive, and while her failure to shut the rift really, really stung, she’d put it to the back of her mind with her daddy issues and other festering traumas. In fact, she was really only focused on one thing tonight, and she was ashamed to admit it, even to herself.

That evil Deviantart OC version of Buck had, for some reason, made her wetter than a rain gutter in Atlantis, and she really, really needed to talk about it with someone. In older times, she would have gossiped with her fellow members of the Canterlot Movie Club about it, and Applebloom would eat up all the gritty details, and Sweetie Belle would tell her to have some tact, and Gabby would be knee-deep in a ramble about her favorite ship from whatever movie they were watching.

In retrospect, they’d be no help. Sunburst and Starlight were definitely sleeping everything off, and Adagio would just tease her. That meant the only person she could talk to about her rising sexual obsession with Buck’s mean side was…Buck himself. He’d been pretty open about his sexuality before; his glibness was something she really appreciated, and she still wanted to ask him about the box of toys under his bed, but she was desperately afraid of running into Ditzy Doo, or that creep Garble in the hall, even at this hour.

These mental calculations had led Scootaloo to the only course of action that made sense to her, and that is why she was currently climbing up to Buck’s second-story balcony in order to creep in through his patio door; a habit she’d kind of fallen into over the last couple of months without really noticing. Her head was so full of awkward sexual questions, she didn’t even consider how dangerous it was to do this when everything was wet from rain and mist. At night.

“He won’t be mad. It’s Buck. He can bounce back from anything. It’s not bothering him; it’s visiting. Yeah, that’s it!” Scootaloo mumbled to herself, as she climbed a slick rain gutter like a lanky, orange spider-monkey. “And it’s definitely not a little hot that I’m sneaking into his place again. It’s cool. We’re cool, friendly friends.”

Scootaloo was just peering over Buck’s balcony to make sure the coast was clear, when her view was eclipsed by a tight ass in dark gray jean shorts. From this angle, Scootaloo took in the sight of a bared, orange lower back beneath a black, lacy top. A naked, sharp shoulder with a tattoo of a compass rose on it, a toned trapezius muscle leading up to an ear pierced thrice with little silver spikes, peeking out from under a purple, side-swept, undercut mohawk with fading blonde streaks in it. The most sapphic core of Scootaloo’s being squealed that she should run screaming home and make a punk girl pinterest board as she realized a simple, painful truth.

Smolder was, beyond a shadow of a doubt, cooler than her. Taller, too, with a round, perky ass and a not-inconsiderate amount of side boob. Smolder was an experienced roleplayer, and a cosplayer, and she had crazy cool tabletop stories. Just being in her shadow made Scootaloo feel hot and ashamed.

Scootaloo dropped low, becoming as small as possible in the dark. She felt totally defeated as she watched Smolder hop from Garble’s grimy balcony to its neighbor and open Buck’s sliding door without a moment’s hesitation.

Buck raised his guitar like a baseball bat, nearly ready to swing when he noticed Smolder casually crashing his pity party. She was carrying an eight pack of colorful, girly-looking spiked lemonade, and a loaded snaggle-toothed grin that Buck couldn’t help but smile back at.

“Hey nerd.” Smolder said.

As Scootaloo nearly slipped from Buck’s balcony, a light crackled on in a window on the opposite side of the apartment building. Ditzy Doo’s bathroom window had just recently picked up a few tenants; a little cluster of light blue lilies in a small plastic pot. Steam billowed out into the foggy night as the window was raised. The smell of perfumed water and a tender, intricate string melody followed it, drifting over the treeline behind the building.

Dinky Doo had finally fallen asleep, but the night was young. After a long day of responsibilities and hard conversations, it was finally quiet. She wanted nothing more than to forget the worries of the day, to forget what Adagio had snidely said to her, and to let Buck and his strange situation rest. She wished it was as easy as that.

“What am I gonna do…?” Ditzy whined.

She was full of heartache over the day’s events; not just Adagio’s taunting, but the way she’d spoken to Buck. She knew she didn’t have all the details, but Buck had looked so guilty, and she was so, so angry, and…and it didn’t matter. She’d hurt Buck’s feelings, certainly, but Buck was betraying her with every moment he spent in Adagio’s presence. He was turning into something she didn’t recognize. She had to find a way to get him back; find a path back to the peaceful days she cherished. All she could do now was sit back and try to collect herself.

These were Ditzy Doo’s thoughts as she tied her hair up in the bathroom mirror. Her eyes were puffy and red from the long cry she’d had on the toilet just a few minutes ago. Behind her, the apartment’s tub slowly filled with hot water and bubbly suds. Even in her own private space, Ditzy kept a towel wrapped chastely around her form. She had just snapped the hair tie into place, when the odd, rune-covered stone she’d found went tumbling out of her cleavage.

Ditzy smacked her wrist on the sink as she flailed to catch the artifact. It bounced off her grasping fingers, spun through the air, and only came to rest when Ditzy caught it with both hands. By then, it had almost gone out the window.

“Phew. I guess I forgot it was in there!” Ditzy sighed. The irony was not lost on her.

Here was a small, subtle temptation, sitting innocently in Ditzy’s hands. She didn’t really know how a memory stone worked, but Starlight seemed to do it without much effort. Point it, think about what memories you want gone, and have an alibi. It seemed simple enough. Ditzy looked from the stone to the mirror with her good eye, and saw her reflection had gone hazy from the condensation. She couldn’t much recognize herself, either. She squeezed the memory stone, and it gave off a soft glow. Last time, Starlight used it to protect Ditzy and herself from Buck. Maybe this time she could use it to protect Buck from himself?

“...no. No, no, no. Absolutely not.” Ditzy said, shaking her head as if to banish the dark thoughts.

Ditzy placed the memory stone on the top shelf of her bathroom cabinet, behind a couple of spare toothbrushes and a box of sanitary wipes. It was a problem for another day. Right now was Ditzy Doo’s time, and she was going to use it.

Ditzy Doo gasped as her toe tested the steaming water, then sighed as her hips slid down past the rim of the yellowing, fiberglass tub. Ditzy lounged beneath a mound of bubbles and let the bath bake the motherly tension out of her joints. Her straw colored hair trailed around her head like a halo as she lathered her grey shoulders, her thin, sturdy arms, and then her prodigious bust.

“It must be nice to be a flower.” Ditzy mused, smiling at the dewy lilies on her window sill. “No complicated feelings, no big drama, no kids…all you have to do is sway in a breeze, look pretty all day, smell nice, and…wait to be…pollinated.”

Ditzy was making her best effort to relax. She’d done everything she’d read in the little self-care brochure Silver Spoon had given her, and now she was confident that she was doing the relaxing thing right, and according to the rules. This just had to work.

Ditzy’s attention fell to a little tray of blueberry muffins sitting next to the tub; a treat that she’d been allowed to take from work. One bite sent a delectable, almost scandalously sweet flavor dancing across Ditzy’s tongue. Next to the tray was a copy of Pride and Prejudice. It was the tale of a woman so miraculous that a snooty, boorish man was willing to move heaven and earth and change himself just to be with her. It was Ditzy’s absolute favorite book in high school, and it was finally time to return to it.

In the space of a few dozen page turns, Ditzy was back in her old bedroom, knowing her Mom would give her hell if she found out she was reading such “filth”. The sheer distance in time made that summer memory feel warm and cozy.

As Ditzy muffled the day’s crisis beneath a good old fashioned nostalgic fantasy, the lilies on her windowsill shifted imperceptibly. The plastic pot trembled, and the flowers rose a few fourths of an inch.

Out in the gray, foggy treeline, a cloaked figure glared up at Ditzy’s window. The interloper reached into the dark burlap of its hanging cape and produced a small, copper bell.

A chime. A whispered note, high as a triangle’s twang reached through the darkness and shook the illuminated window.

The bath water rippled. Ditzy Doo grabbed at her forehead with a gasp as all her recent anxieties slammed through her head like a hail of hammered nails.

Meanwhile, in the parking lot, a car door shut with a soft click. A stakeout in progress reached its logical conclusion. A set of sensible black shoes were muffled as they went from asphalt into the wet grass around the side of the apartment building. Agent Sweetie Drops slipped silently around the corner of the apartment building.

She checked her watch. She doubted any potential help was up at this hour. Regardless, she sent out a quick message with her phone. While there were other agents in Canterlot, only two were qualified for a confrontation with magical threats. And they happened to be resting.

“If I’m even a little lucky, I can just wait this out. I’m a caseworker, not some brawler, for Pete’s sake.” Sweetie Drops said.

The cloaked intruder rang the bell again, and Sweetie Drops felt a keening ring stinging her ear drums. The thought of facing the Director again loomed like a guillotine over her head, and yet it wasn’t nearly as frightening as Lyra’s patient exasperation at the concert. Sweetie Drops felt goosebumps rise on her arms. It had to be some sort of enchantment.

She pulled from her suit pocket a small silvery cylinder, which unfolded into a short baton with the click of a button.

“There’s no time. Brawler it is.” Sweetie drops sighed.

Author's Note

Song Review: Weakness by Eli Noir is what I would categorize as a lowkey bop. It has a simple, captivating guitar melody, a little tinkling piano and some easy-to-understand lyrics that speak to the soul. It's like a delicious yogurt cup of a song, speaking to the experience of someone who finds themselves drawn to another person like gravity.
The lyric "Tell me how to let you go" especially speaks to the emotional core of this chapter; our poor protagonist is being pulled in two directions again, and he can't tell which the song is singing about.

This was a pretty tight turn around, at least compared to the last few chapters. I'm trying to make the next section of the story more concise, in contrast to the obscene girth of the Chrysalis arc. I intend for this arc to be a tight three to five chapters, told over the course of this year. It's anyone's guess if I can meet that goal, but the aspiration, at least, is noble.

I must've wrote and re-wrote Adagio and Buck's conversation here about twenty times. I feel it really shows an evolution of both their characters, and the odd nuances of their relationship. I'm proud of it.