“Okay! I got it, Mom!” I exasperate to my mother while still having a fond glint at her. “I can take care of the rest on my own. I'm a big girl now.”

“Okay,” my mother replies while I see concern linger on her face. “I'm just checking.” She backs out of my room and envelops my doorknob with her magic. “Good night, Sweetie. I hope you feel better tomorrow.”

I have to bite my tongue for a bit to prevent telling my mother the concerning truth. Instead, I flash her a reassuring but also disingenuous smile as I tell her somewhat honestly, “I hope so too, Mom.”

My mother waves at me one more time before she fully shuts the door.

I settle back into my desk chair as I release a long sigh. It is only then that I realize something. I spin around in my chair then roll it to the window. Using my magic, I part my curtains and view beyond, particularly in a downward direction.

There, as I predicted, I see my two best friends, Scootaloo and Apple Bloom. Apple Bloom, in particular, doesn't usually follow me this far to my home. That is a testament to her concern for me.

Like I did for my mother, I smile reassuringly at them and even wave at them despite the fact I don't feel it in my heart, for I know that things will get worse before they get better.

My strategy works. They return my smile and wave before departing. I correctly assumed that they wouldn't part from my home until they received some reassurance from me today.

But I know they need to get to their homes soon because the country is in a state of emergency lock-down. As a result, curfew is in effect. It's likely a wise precaution, too, because ponies, in general, are often very skittish when things go noticeably wrong.

After my friends leave, I realize I'm finally alone enough to review some of my thoughts of the past few weeks which is a situation of some building urgency of late.

I've been mulling this over for quite some time now about the risks of writing down some of my thoughts. If ponies know what has really been going on through my head lately then I think it would raise some eyebrows and concerns from even the good ponies. If these thoughts fell into the wrong hooves then it's ten times worse.

But I have to do it. I have to express myself somehow. A record of this might come in hoofy too later on. I just need to think of a way . . . to . . .

Hmm. I think I have an idea. Actually, it's pretty brilliant.

I roll myself back to my desk then float out a piece of paper and a quill. I dip the quill in ink then hover it over the paper. I take a moment to organize a mental system for how I'm going to approach this then decide what exactly I plan to express.

When the quill finally flies on the paper, I write my thoughts like a diary but I disguise it as a music sheet. Every word and note in the song is just a clever code for the real message behind it.

In it, the real message that is secretly written is:

This is risky. This is very risky. Putting my thoughts on paper feels like a necessity to me but it could do so much damage in the wrong hooves. My friends might think I'm even more insane than I let on and my enemy is quite likely a skilled code cracker. He, more than most, may very well have the skills to decipher the real message buried in this song, and if he does, we could be in much greater trouble than we already are.

But I can't help it. I must express myself in some fashion and I shall do it my way. If I don't release these feelings then I'll be buried under them. There's too much at stake already to risk more mistakes due to my escalating pressure.

So here it is. My full confession. I hope this does some good someday.

It may be that I won't have the skills necessary to decode my own message when I return to normal. All I know for sure is, for the moment, I am definitely not normal, and I know why.

Agent Raven, and therefore also his original self and all of his magic clones, are most definitely true geniuses. I am more certain of that than ever because I've been living in one of his bodies for over a year now but his abilities started to manifest more within the last three weeks.

As my experience in this new state continued, I quickly noticed a rapid climb in my mental acuity. I still think I was smart before compared to an average pony, but the way I feel lately is starting to make me feel like I was an imbecile in comparison to how I am now. Raven is clearly on a whole different level than me.

Not only that, but he's an especially well-trained genius. So, not only is the limits of his maximum potential much higher than average, but he's had enough extreme training to push him to the brim of those higher limits. The only analogy I can think of that compares something like this to something else is average pony intelligence compared to a basic animal.

But I've learned something important about being a genius that I genuinely didn't know before. I used to think that having a super-smart mind means being better at absolutely everything that could possibly use the brain in any capacity, but it turns out being a genius is a lot like a cutie mark, and that is something I understand very well. What it actually means is being exceptional at some things while being average or even slow at still other things.

Now that I have a better perspective, I'm starting to understand how many ponies really fit that category. Under those terms, Pinkie Pie can be considered a genius insofar as planning parties is concerned. She's also exceptionally skilled at memorizing names, birthdays, and basically the date of any festive event. But, just in case her memory fails her, she is extra prepared by having a large filing system that includes all the details that are important to her.

Pinkie Pie plans parties. Period. That's who she is and what she's good at. It's everything else that might go in one ear and out the other with her.

As a guest in Raven's body, what I've noticed is I have gained an exceptional acuity for noticing minute details. With these skills, I really could become a skilled detective. What's more, I have become an expert psychologist, particularly when it comes to the subtle arts of body language. Raven doesn't just smell emotions, he verifies his findings by other means as if he's too paranoid to trust only one source of information.

And speaking of paranoid, that's another trait that has been hounding me lately. I've been feeling hyper suspicious and that's kept me on the tips of my hooves. On the plus side, it's made me far more alert, but on the negative side, it's made me less happy. It's much easier to make an emotional connection with others if I can trust them, but lately, I've felt forced to keep checking if what a pony is saying is what they really mean.

To make matters worse, other ponies have felt more paranoid too and that is our enemy changeling's fault. I've waited these past few weeks for him to make a move and it seems he has several times over. By now it's become known that there is at least one hostile changeling attacking ponies out there. He keeps getting sighted doing something awful, he keeps getting away, and he always makes sure there are witnesses to share the fearsome tale. As a result, fear and paranoia have rapidly spread across Equestria, exactly as he likely intended.

The real tragedy of all of this is, once again, it summons racial suspicion and doubt within my race except, this time, it is aimed against even the reformed changelings. Ponies are still claiming they are forgiving, open, and trusting, but I can read a room better than ever now. I know what's really going on beneath the surface. It's basically the same stupid problem we suffered before Twilight's coronation when the three tribes of ponies were almost suddenly turned against each other.

It has become painfully clear to me now that, when hardship finally rears its ugly head, ponies show their true colors. As a species that is traditionally herbivores and prey, there's a primitive fearful instinct we can't deny deep down. Since we are a society used to a thousand years of relative peace, we break down awfully fast when things get too real, especially if there's very little time to adjust.

The most recent and severe of these attacks from the enemy changeling is a direct and, more importantly, successful assault against Princess Twilight Sparkle during this year’s Grand Galloping Gala. Notably the first she tried to host without the aid of her mentor. In that very public event, an evil changeling revealed his true form and stabbed the princess before escaping. That's the second direct assault she's survived this year, and like the first, I'm almost perfectly certain the attack was not meant to kill. If it was, she'd be dead.

Instead of that, the changeling is merely trying to send a message to the rest of Equestria. If I had to put that message into words based on the pattern of behavior he's displayed thus far, it would translate like this: “Be afraid, Equestria. Be very afraid. I've just proven that even your most beloved monarch is vulnerable to my assault and I can do it no matter how much security you try to place in my way. If I can wound a mare as powerful as her and get away with it in full public view, then imagine what I can do to you. From now on, you are forced to distrust even the most recognized face because every face might be a mask that is hiding ME!”

I know Twilight wouldn't want her citizens to panic. I know she would want everypony to trust each other and get along in friendship and harmony, but these current circumstances are making it impossible for her, at least for now. Likely with some reluctance, she is forced to step up security across her nation because to not do so would impinge upon her citizens’ faith in her leadership. She has to show some strength during adversity or no pony would trust her again.

Which plays her right into the enemy's hooves and she probably knows it.

I can respect Twilight's position better than ever now, for my own situation is similar enough to make me sympathize with her. Now that I know what it feels like to be a genius, I also know its consequences. Not only can our minds think at a much faster rate, they also must do so. It's actually painful to us to not receive enough stimulation because our minds hunger for information all the time.

No wonder ponies like Twilight and Sunburst fill their head with so much book information. They had to or else they'd be too bored.

This also helps to explain to me why Twilight freaks out as much as she does. With her mind absorbing so much information at a time, she can occasionally be overwhelmed with too much stimulation. That, in turn, overwhelms her emotions. Once she starts to lose her emotional balance then every step she takes thereafter is one stumbling step after another. She has to pause a moment and reorient herself or she'll keep on doing it.

I've heard her friends are typically the ones who have to bail her out and talk sense into her when things get that bad. They even coined a term for her whenever she does that, a state they affectionately call, “Twilighting”, or “Twili-nanners” .

Despite my greater acuity to dissect the inner mental workings of others, I've also noticed an increasing emotional disconnection to others which is likely rooted in instinctual distrust. Now I can be a good liar and actor but there's also this subconscious habit of thinking that others might also be that way to me. These new instincts have prompted me to guard my secrets as much as possible but also investigate, and possibly exploit, others for their secrets. If I am driven to feel like others are lying to me then I have an equally strong drive to discover the hidden truth.

This is important to note because I know that is how Agent Raven, his original self, and all the clones also think.

By dissecting myself and all of my new habits, I've grown surprised to notice that he is not a power-lusting mad changeling, as Raven seemed to have alluded to in my first open dialog with him, but rather a very mission-oriented individual. He doesn't want power for its own sake. Instead, it is merely a means to an end. He feels driven to succeed in his missions with as much perfection as possible no matter what that mission is. He'll use whatever means are at his disposal to accomplish that goal. To him, there is no morally white, gray, or black. Just success or failure.

Across these past three weeks, I've grown concerned that these new instincts, reflexes, and impressions I've gained are also taking something away. I've been afraid that as I become him more, I am myself less.

But across that time, what I've noticed instead is everything that makes me Sweetie Belle is still there. I still love my friends and family. I still remember the reasons behind all of my personality and choices in life.

Instead of losing something, I've gained something but that, in turn, is modifying, mutating, and twisting what's already there. Steadily I am growing into a blend of the two personality types but still heavily leaning on being Sweetie Belle because all of my memories of being her are still intact.

As for the memories of being Agent Raven, it's more of a subconscious instinct which is why it feels especially weird when I gain highly unusual skills like now being able to read multiple foreign languages. I see the foreign letters and I simply feel what sound it makes. I also instinctually know how to combine those letters and pronounce them properly, and I even know how to translate them back to my native ponish language. The one thing I can't do is explain how I acquired these new skills because I have no memories to back them up.

All of these new changes have certainly affected my overall outlook on life and I can't say it's in an entirely positive way. For instance, I'm getting bored in school now because I feel like I'm way ahead of these lessons. I had to bite my tongue on multiple occasions to resist the temptation to correct the teacher. I no longer respect Miss Cheerilee's knowledge or intelligence when I feel so vastly superior to her, but the part of me that's still fully Sweetie Belle feels sad at these changes. Emotionally speaking, I miss the feeling of looking forward to going to school because, back then, it was still a challenge, but now . . .

Now . . .

Now I feel like a grown adult stuck in a foal's body. It makes me tempted to just change my shape into an adult version of myself except I don't want to advertise my feelings to others. If I did, it would only further illustrate my new sense of disconnection with them and that, in turn, would concern them even further than I already have. If they grew concerned then I would grow concerned, but at least I know I still care about them enough to know that hypothetical situation would bother me.

These days it feels hollow to attend the Cutie Mark Crusaders meetings. At first I was excited because my new abilities allow me to analyze others even more deeply than I could before. Now it's not just instinct that leads me to the answer for others’ destiny but also critical analysis to back it up. With the ability to decipher how others feel in multiple ways, I've correctly led them to the answer multiple times now. I've seen more cutie mark awakenings these past three weeks than we, as Crusaders, have seen in six moons.

But when I look back at the situation, I've noticed that it's only been me that led the Crusaders to success lately. It's not about us anymore and that makes me feel sad and empty. They gaze upon me with awe and cheer on my recent string of success for the moment but I now have enough instinctual psychological knowledge to know what will eventually happen if this pattern continues. If I keep showing up the other Crusaders, they'll eventually feel obsolete. They'll look at me and ask, “What do you need us for anymore? You're the one mostly leading our success nowadays. Just keep doing that while we go over there to play and have fun together.”

We used to do everything together, including saying some sentences simultaneously. To do that, we have to be on the same wavelength, but now I also realize that we had to be balanced for that to occur. None of us can be superior or inferior to each other. Instead, we have to all be equal. Different, but equal.

Lately I've been pondering the virtues and pitfalls of holding back the answers to our clients’ problems and instead keep dropping hints to the other Crusaders so I can lead them to the correct answer instead. That option makes me feel a bit dirty because I'd be toying with the lives and very destiny of our clients just to make sure my friends feel more included.

On the other hoof, if it works, our clients will still get the answers they seek. It would just take a little longer and no pony else will feel left out. I can also cheer along with them too but only because I can predict a pattern of behavior and accurately calculate what and when they'll shout out so that I can pretend to be equally enthusiastic and spout the same thing that they do.

Being ahead of the curve is also very isolating. I miss being on the same wavelength as my friends. Back then, our missions had so much more joy for me because it was a challenge we fulfilled together as friends. We'd high hoof each other at the conclusion of every success because it felt so good to accomplish this together as equals.

Now it feels like either I dominate the spotlight or I hold back my own potential on purpose just so that my friends don't feel left out.

It hurts! It hurts so bad to feel this isolated from my friends! I'm still emotionally Sweetie Belle and, as such, I have social needs that don't feel as fulfilled anymore. As a changeling, it is more important than ever for those social needs to be met for it does not just nourish my soul but also my body.

Poor Ocellus. I know she has needs much like my own now. She needs her friends just as much as I do, but the town has lately regarded her with remote suspicion. Some just watch her more carefully and others outright refuse to sell to her now. Either way, that hurts my heart to observe because I know she's innocent. She's done nothing to deserve this recent hostility. While it is understandable, it's also clearly unjust.

The good news, however, is the fact that not everypony has forsaken her. This is especially true with her closest friends but it also includes some of the townsfolk. The Apple and Cake family, for example, have steadfastly remained loyal to her.

Just as I have gone through some changes, Button Mash has freaked out about his changes too and it's for the same reason but he's started to calm down about it lately. We tried to encourage him to think of all of this is just a new experience and an interesting perspective. The fact he likes the same foods as I did is realistic to me because he's now working with the same taste buds that I used to have, although I think we are remarkably similar in that regard by coincidence.

But, just like me with this new body, he's now thinking within my physical brain except its memories got replaced with his own. My subconscious habits linger in the background and it's had a subtle effect on him that's steadily accumulating.

For instance, now he likes to hang out with us Crusaders more often and, frankly, we've been just as welcoming to him because we love having more friends.

However, while he was just sitting in the background and playing one of his portable video games, we got freaked out when he called a word aloud at the same time the rest of the Crusaders did. What makes it even more freaky is I didn't at that moment. It was as if he was more me than me at that moment.

After the shock of that moment passed, we had to console him yet again not to worry about losing himself to this experience.

But, when we did, I kept my mouth shut, or rather spouted out a modified version of the truth because I secretly knew there was some basis for his fears. He is turning into a pony closer to me but I also know that gap won't be completely bridged. He will always be Button Mash too but with tweaks of my personality mixed in there.

What is more concerning lately is the state of his true physical body. As time passes, his true body is withering away due to disuse and lack of exercise. The doctors are doing what they can but it's clear that our present situation can't be too ongoing or the way things are now could end up all too permanent.

Things came to a head yesterday when a large group of us foals gathered together to play dodge ball during recess. A total of eighteen of us were drafted into that game. I came in somewhat reluctantly and I know why. I may not be an actual adult, but Raven is relative to his species. Because he is, I've been feeling older than my true age also.

However, his cold attitude and neutral detachment from others are modified by my own personality in my specific case. Since I care for other ponies, it makes me feel more like a caring, warm, and mature mother who should be caring for these foolish foals and keeping them from trouble rather than being humiliatingly silly by “pretending” to be one of them myself.

This also makes me sad because I likewise remember how fun it is to truly be a foal and enjoy our games together. How does a feeling like that feel so close and so far away at the same time?

During the game, we split the teams into two sets of nine. Diamond Tiara was the captain of the opposing team and we voted Pipsqueak to be the captain of ours. Scootaloo was on my team but Apple Bloom wasn't.

For that, I recall there was a silly grin on Apple Bloom’s face as she promised she'd not go easy on us, but there was also a playful glint in her eyes that promised Scootaloo and I that there would definitely be no hard feelings between us either. It was a look that we gladly shared back with her. It was an important reminder that, even if we're temporarily on opposing sides, we'll always remain the best of friends.

When the ball was tossed upwards, it was the opposing team that was the first to catch it as it came down. That meant it was the opposing team’s turn to serve the ball and try to tag members of our team out until either one of us catches it or all of us are tagged out and thus ending the game.

But when the ball was served at our team, something very unexpected happened to me. The moment I felt adrenaline surge through me, time slowed down in my perception because my mind was thinking at such an incredibly accelerated rate. Not only that, but I almost saw imaginary lines trace across the playground and the area we were at in particular. They were geometry lines that showed me where everypony was and where they would be based on a very rapid calculation of trajectory, speed, and noticing subtle movements on the body of every foal around me. I observed this as things unfolded before me. The lines predicted where the ball would be in advance, for example, and I'd later observe that the predictions are almost perfect, thereby confirming the unusual information I was receiving was indeed accurate.

I became hyper-aware of everything around me, too, including directions I wasn't looking. I felt like I could close my eyes and still remain aware of not only where everything and everypony was but where they would be in a few seconds.

As the game continued, I had a brief flashback to the time Agent Raven trained against other imaginary tall and deeply twisted reformed changelings in the dream training area he called “The Room”. During that time, I once marveled at how he moved through the battlefield with liquid-smooth motions. He never wasted his momentum as the battle wore on. Instead, he used it to swing to the next motion and the next and the next. He even used his enemies’ momentum against them and to assist his own.

At the time, it looked like magic to me. I had no idea how he was doing it, but when the dodge ball game came about, I got a taste of how he was able to accomplish that. By having time slow down, he had more time to notice what was all around him and calculate a perfect move for every second of battle.

This isn't to say that either one of us moved at super-speed, however, because my body slowed down to an equal degree as every pony else. Attempting to move, to any degree, within this hyper-cognitive state felt as difficult as trying to force my movements while swimming through jello.

It did, however, at least give me more time to plan a perfect strategy.

That's not all. In order to dodge the ball, I subconsciously morphed my joints and muscles in such a way to permit them to bend in very unnatural ways, or better to say very uncommon ways. With a great deal of training, the most flexible of my race probably could have pulled this off too, but what I accomplished during that game was extremely uncanny for a mere foal to perform. I almost effortlessly pulled off what would normally require a cutie mark awakening to accomplish and, even then, many years of hardcore training. Such a pony would probably have a gymnast cutie mark of some kind in this case.

The moment the other foals noticed my unnatural movements, they started to get sloppy due to the shock of their own surprise. That, in turn, provided me with an exploitable opportunity.

As the ball ricocheted behind me, I realized its trajectory carried it a few inches beyond my reach. To compensate for this, I secretly used my magic to pull the ball into my reach. Technically that is cheating because we unicorns weren't supposed to do that in this game.

However, I hid my magic by morphing it into a color that has no color. As such, it is invisible.

Somehow I knew this technique had its limits. It can only hide very low levels of magic. There are ways to detect magic but it required a trained wizard to be there and actively concentrate on a spell that would detect the presence of other magic in a certain area. However, the method I used, if done at very low power, is flawlessly hidden to the naked eye which is more than hidden enough for a bunch of foals.

As a result, the ball subtly curved in mid-flight towards my hoof. It happened so fast that most would not be able to perceive it.

This meant I had the ball and it was now my turn to serve it. The opposing team waited for me to do it but I didn't serve it right away. Instead, I galloped back and forth on three legs while holding the ball with my right foreleg and faked them out by making the motions of throwing the ball but didn't actually toss it. While that happened, the opposing team kept galloping back and forth as well in an effort to prepare themselves to either dodge it or catch it. While they did that, I visualized imaginary lines between them and waited for the right moment to strike. I also encouraged the right moment by controlling their movements using my own.

The gallop about and fakeouts were all part of a carefully calculated and strategic design. When the right moment did come (and not before several of my opponents impatiently complained for me to toss the ball already), I threw the ball in a very carefully calculated way and with a very specific degree of strength. The result was the ball not only hit my primary target but ricocheted between two more targets before the ball bounced back at me. The moment it did, I immediately tossed the ball back at my opposing team again. This time it bounced back and forth between four of my opponents but the ball didn't bounce back to me this time. Instead, it ended up bouncing less and less on their side of the court, but by then, I already took out seven out of nine opponents in two seconds.

When the ball bounced back to me the first time and then I immediately served it again, the first of my four opponents, in this case the gray plump earth pony colt named Truffle Shuffle, was hit especially hard. He got it so badly in the face that it knocked him down to the ground and later revealed a bruised eye as he tearfully looked back at me as if to sadly ask me, “Why? Why did you attack me so hard?”

Because I was so keenly observing everything around me lately, I noticed the look of shock on both teams. They looked at me like they couldn't believe what they were seeing, but it was only later that I realized the deeper implications of their horror.

One thing I couldn't observe was my own face, but I remember how I felt at first. I gazed down at my defeated opponents, including Apple Bloom, with vicious gloating satisfaction because, at the time, I felt drunk on the raw surge of power. I never felt more powerful in my life and it felt delicious. The confidence it brought and the surge of adrenaline . . . I was lost to it for a brief moment.

But then the horrified reaction of the foals around me sank in. At that moment, I had an epiphany. At that moment I gained the horrifying realization of, “This isn't me! This isn't what I'm like! I don't enjoy hurting others.”

“Trah . . . Truffle, I . . .” I stuttered.

Truffle turned away from me and buried his face between both of his forehooves and the blacktop pavement beneath us. Between all of that, he wept. During that time, his shoulder blades shuddered up and down a bit.

Out of the corner of my eye, I also saw the purple movement of Miss Cheerilee rushing at us to investigate why some of us looked so hurt all of the sudden, especially Truffle.

Apple Bloom also knelt beside Truffle and affectionately patted him in order to comfort him. After that, she gave me an equally confused but also accusatory glare as if to ask, “Why, Sweetie Belle? What's gotten into ya all of a sudden?”

Rapid calculations spun through my mind because I was reading the mood of everypony there and used that knowledge to predict what they'd likely do next. An instinct of danger sank into me which, in turn, provoked a reflexive aggressive response that I fought to keep down. I fiercely reminded myself that I don't like to hurt anypony and I especially have no real motive to make this any worse.

But since I actively fought against the fight response, there was only one option really left to me.

Even while knowing that it would probably only make the situation worse, I panicked. I spun about, morphed changeling wings on my back while otherwise keeping my same form, and flew away above then beyond the schoolhouse.

“SWEETIE BELLE!” Scootaloo cried out behind me. “COME BACK!!!”

I couldn't. Tears blurred my vision as I flew on.

Feeling spent, I float my quill back into the ink bottle then take a moment to catch my breath. The memories of what I've done on the playground still haunt me because it revealed, however briefly, that something sinister still lurks beneath the depth of my subconscious and there are very solid reasons for it to be there, but most ponies around me don't know that. To them, my uncharacteristic behavior probably seemed to come out of nowhere other than some of the behavioral changes they've observed in me these past few weeks.

I know they've been growing concerned. I can smell it and I've observed it both in others and in myself. Above all, I don't want to become a monster. If this confession is meant to reveal anything, it's that I am still a little pony at heart.

I sniffle as I lean heavily back in my seat. While doing that, I gaze up at my ceiling that is once again blurred with some tears.

In a way, I consider this a good sign. The fact that I regret my actions means I still don't want to be a bad pony. A bad pony would be pleased, or at least indifferent, to harming others, but I can never do that. I'm still Sweetie Belle. I'll fight to my last breath to hold on to my deepest and most important core values.

A grin flashes on my face when I recall being trapped in a cave with my fellow Crusader sisters and all of our older sisters. In response to my sister’s story of Mistmane’s determination to find out why one of her dearest friends went suspiciously evil, I said, “I’d assume there was too, if somepony told me either one of you two’d gone evil.”

My club sisters, and many others for that matter, have proven that they would feel the same way about me if I start acting out of character.

I lift my head again and gaze forward at my own reflection. Just like the past three weeks, Raven isn't there. It's just my reflection.

Or is it? It's true that I've been changing lately. Maybe I shouldn't freak out about that too much. Change is only natural over time. When I finally become a true adult mare, I expect to be different again compared to myself as a foal. I've recently gained some experiences that helped to accelerate and push my maturity in unnatural ways, but the results of those changes merely reflect what would have happened to me over time anyway.

The most important thing to note here is I am still Sweetie Belle. I am still the lovable and innocent filly who has been going through tough times lately.

I lean forward in my seat and reach a hoof to touch my reflection while I continue to gaze upon it.

“I forgive you, Sweetie Belle,” I say to my own reflection. “For I know you don't really mean anypony else harm.”

More to the contrary. Becoming a genius lately does not mean I'm necessarily doomed to a life of being jaded by a lack of a challenge. Twilight, Sunburst, and Starlight are all very gifted ponies too and they still find ways to be happy. If they taught me anything, it's that I need my friends more than ever. I can't afford to push them away. Not now.

But I also am equipped with foreknowledge about what's to happen. I notice more than I usually do. I see subtle patterns in behavior both in individuals and in an entire society. I see the underpinnings of trouble brewing because of the hostile actions of the enemy changeling and his very strategically planned design.

By now I am strongly convinced that Thorax's reformed changelings have been investigating across Equestria to hunt down the culprit that's been giving them all a bad reputation lately, but knowing as much as I do about Raven and the clones, I'm virtually certain that infiltrators Thorax sent have not only been overwhelmed, but some of them might even be replaced by enemy clones which means the original evil changeling now has eyes and ears within the hive as well. From there, he's probably planning on corrupting them from the inside.

However, in his eyes, he'd be thinking he's doing them a favor by restoring them to their former glory.

I grimace as I realize that Thorax is probably in grave danger now because he's an obstacle the enemy changeling would consider very harsh solutions for if that's what it takes to “save” the rest of his race.

Starlight Glimmer and Twilight Sparkle both know about the hidden changeling within me, but I get the feeling they no longer see eye to eye with each other. Twilight has been implementing some fairly heavy hoof countermeasures against the rising panic of her country which really can't be helped under these circumstances, but I think Starlight is beginning to suspect that her old mentor has already been replaced and is only “pretending” to be bothered with these new policies. True or not, that suspicion and distrust plays us right into our enemy's hooves.

I can't blame Starlight for thinking that way either. She might even be right. Raven, his original, and all the rest of the clones are well-trained strategic geniuses who have a lot of resources to build upon by now. I can already feel the foundations of our society crumbling again which affords him another opportunity to advance his plans in the shadows. While everypony is being paranoid and pointing hooves at each other, he won't even pause long enough to laugh in the shadows because he's so laser-focused on advancing his mission. Nothing, and I mean nothing else matters to him.

Because Twilight and Starlight likely don't see eye to eye with each other anymore, I think both of them will try and claim me tomorrow because they both know I'm an important resource that they can't afford to ignore any longer.

The only question is, which mare will get to me first? And which mare should I trust with the truth?

I ponder that for a moment as rapid calculations spin through my head until a wave of fatigue assails me. I realize that stressing over this isn't going to help me too much tonight. I need to save some energy for tomorrow because, one way or another, it is likely to be a long and challenging day.

But before I go to bed, I read what I've written first. First I re-read what the message actually means, and then I read what the message actually says.

It takes me a stunned moment to realize that I have actually written an entire orchestral symphony. It is complete with music sheets for every instrument in the band. There are song lyrics to this piece as well and that, too, has a coded message buried within it. This musical masterpiece of mine, likely the finest I've ever written, not only conveys my thoughts but also my feelings buried within the various octaves of the music.

Then again, I am not judging this musical piece from a professional standard. While I might think it could be a masterpiece, I wonder if anypony else would agree with me.

I lower the sheet as I muse to myself that maybe I should consult with Octavia sometime about this, but I'll probably wait until this crisis is solved first.

I fearfully but also resolutely close my eyes and wince as I inwardly promise that, no matter how weak or strong I feel, I'll do everything in my power to protect the ones I care about. Everything I've uncovered and discovered about my changeling host likely is only scratching the surface of his potential. While acquiring some of his talents may make me look like a super foal now, I'm probably still nothing compared to him.

And he has a changeling clone army by his side. Every single one of them can annihilate an army in their own right. Probably with ease.

But while he has precise focus, I have passion. As a result, he can never want victory more than I ever will. I have the magic of friendship inside me, too. He's not the first potential tyrant to underestimate it. One way or another, I will defeat him . . . somehow . . . but my preferred method is to befriend him.

I smile to myself as I realize that is a very pony thing to want. That's proof positive that I still am, indeed, a lovable pony at heart.

Author's Note

I realize this chapter expresses Sweetie Belle in a manner that is out of character for her, and even she realizes that, but the chapter also explains why this is so. This is a time skip chapter (hence the title) that also went back and recapped some of the events that occurred across that time. By doing that, it explains step by step some of the reasons why she changed.

And in a timely moment, too, since the story is winding to a close soon. In the twilight hour of the story she is given some necessary upgrades that help prepare her for the final challenge, but these new talents and "gifts" are also a devil's bargain.