Lieutenant Storm Singer shifted uncomfortably on her hooves. The illusionary spell rested on her skin like an uncomfortable blanket. It was smothering in a way, like wearing clothing that was too tight.

However, for all of her complaints, the disguise did seem to be working as intended. The pegasus stood amid a gathered crowd of her ‘compatriots’ before an altar. There were a few dozen of them in total, but Singer knew that the Manehattan cell of the Chaos Cult was much larger than that. Likely as many as a few hundred members or perhaps even thousands. Although, most of them were dispersed throughout the city. Busy with assigned missions, duties or otherwise indisposed by maintaining their facade as a regular pony and loyal citizen of Equestria.

It was honestly frightening to witness how many ponies from all walks of life had devoted themselves to such an evil ideology. When she first accepted the mission, she imagined the cultists to be criminals and ne'er-do-wells that dwelled within the dark corners of the periphery of pony society. The sorts of troublemakers that a seasoned guard, like herself, would be able to spot from a mile away.

She was shocked to find how wrong her presumptions were. Looking at the crowd; she saw doctors, carpenters, kindergarten teachers and even very minor members of the nobility. The sorts of ponies that she would pass every day on the street and never think twice about.

There was so much about the nature of the organisation that she had to learn from the ground up, it made her progress in infiltrating the cult frustratingly slow. She had joined easily enough; they had been expecting her, and the friend that introduced Sunlight Breeze to the cult had already vouched for her. However, that only got her through the door and onto the bottom rung of the organisation.

She had yet to find any proof of the Cult's connection to the upper nobility and she was starting to get frustrated by the lack of progress.

Her thoughts were interrupted when became engulfed in a smothering hug from the side.

“Sunlight! I'm so glad that you could make it.” A gleeful cheer exclaimed.

Singer suppressed the urge to groan in exasperation. Instead, she forced herself to don a mask of excitement and nuzzled the pony that had hugged her.

“Oh my, I'm so happy to see you, Dawn, I thought for sure that you weren't coming.” She responded in what she hoped was an equally cheerful tone.

The yellow-coated, maroon-maned unicorn released her embrace before waving off the comment with a hoof. “I wouldn't have missed today's sermon for the world. It's so rare that a High Priest preaches to us directly.”

Singer forced herself to smile appreciatively and nod in agreement.

The pony that she had ‘befriended’ was a minor Manehattan noble that had joined the cult not too long before Singer had. Although the Lieutenant detested the direction that Iridescent Dawn had chosen to take her life by siding with chaotic forces. She struggled to summon any great amount of ire towards the bubbly and free-spirited noble-mare.

Dawn was born to a very traditionalist noble house and had been arranged to marry as part of a political alliance. Her intended, was a rather detestable noble stallion who was thirty years her senior.

When she had been introduced to the ideology of the Chaos Cults, she was very quickly seduced by the Cult's supposed goals of equality, freedom and the destruction of an oppressive societal order. It didn't take Iridescent Dawn long to renounce her family and join the Cult fully.

Her story was just one among many. Ponies who had been born in the gutters or whose lives had taken a severe downward turn and, out of desperation, would want to shatter the status quo to merely have a chance at a better life. To wipe the slate clean and start again.

Singer almost sympathised with them. They were desperate and had been suckered into worshipping a mad god at the word of lunatic cultists. However, there was a more cynical reason that the lieutenant had befriended Dawn, beyond pity.

“Is your cousin going to be joining us, Dawn? You speak so highly of him and I'd love the opportunity to finally meet him.” Singer probed in a casual tone.

The noble-mare frowned forlornly. “Unfortunately not. Dream is almost always busy with his duties as a Colonel.” She sighed in lament. “It's a pity because he was the one who had introduced me to this wonderful place, and I would hate for him to miss such a big occasion.”

‘A Colonel in the Manehattan Royal Guard Garrison named Dream. Should be easy enough to track down.’ Singer mentally noted as she filed the information away for later.

The limited inroads that she had made in breaching the upper echelons of the cult had forced her to pursue more secondary objectives, such as identifying high-level cult members embedded within Equestrian society.

It was a less-than-optimal use of her time and brought her no closer to the true masterminds of the conspiracy. However, there was little else she could do besides gathering whatever information she could and waiting for an opportunity.

“Oh, it's starting,” Dawn said excitedly before Singer could probe further.

Atop the raised platform before them walked an elderly stallion. The forest-green coloured earth pony wore a stern expression and had a commanding aura about him; not too dissimilar to Commander Azure Flame. His name, as far as Singer was told, was High Priest Fervent Spirit. A likely alias, but apart from his high-ranking status within the cult, and his origin being from another cell somewhere in Equestria, that was all the information that she could find out.

Even so, it was unclear as to his real role or importance to the cult. The organisation, by its nature, was very decentralised and compartmentalised. Its doctrine declared equality among its members, so there was no explicitly stated formal hierarchy. However, there was most certainly an informal one. As far as she could tell, the hierarchy consisted of three different tiers.

The first tier consisted of initiates or ‘untrustworthies’ like herself. Ponies who were indoctrinated by the cult and financially supported it, but were kept unaware of the wider operations.

The second tier was the trusted ‘staff members’ of the local Chaos Cult cell, consisting of guards, recruiters, accountants, couriers, etc.

The third was the leadership tier. Ponies who knew the Cult's secrets and were deeply entrenched in the upper echelons of the organisation.

These weren't defined roles, and there was definitely a lot of overlap between the tiers; initiates who were entrusted with some basic tasks or administrators who knew far more about the Cult's activities than a lowly recruiter.

So far Singer had only identified High Priest Fervent Spirit and the Manehattan cell's most senior member, Dashing Velvet, as members of the leadership tier.

Her thoughts were interrupted when the High Priest began his sermon.

"Welcome, my friends, my kin; my fellow seekers of truth. You have come here not by chance but by fate, drawn by the whisper of a power that the world would have you ignore. Look around you, each face here bears the marks of a life lived under the heel of a broken order. And yet, you are here. You have risen above despair to seek something greater. Something real. Tonight, let us cast aside the lies we have been told and embrace the truth that burns within us all.” His voice boomed out across the room. The words echoed from the arched ceiling of the underground hall.

"Brothers and sisters, look around you. Look at the chains that bind your lives! The walls they built to keep you low, the rules they forged to keep you powerless. These chains are not natural; they are the invention of order, of control!”

The crowd was immediately enthralled by the speech. Their attention was captured completely.

The Priest gestured with his hoof wildly, his words of anger and grievance resonated with the gathered audience. “They tell you to obey, to suffer quietly, and call it virtue. But I tell you: your suffering is not a virtue, it is a prison. Your despair is not destiny, it is a lie! The world they have built was not made for us. It was made to keep us small, to crush our hopes under the weight of their laws, their gold, their power.” He hissed.

He paused, letting the words hang in the air. Then, with sudden intensity, he thrust his hoof skyward. “But hear me now, for I bring the truth. I bring the voice of chaos, the voice of freedom!”

The preacher’s movements grew more animated as he spoke, pacing the platform with wild energy. “Chaos does not judge you for what you lack, it does not bind you with rules, or punish you for your dreams.”

Singer glanced at Iridescent Dawn out of the corner of her eye. The unicorn was fixated on the sermon. Her expression fluctuated between rage and hope at all the intended beats of the speech.

“Do you feel it? That fire inside you, the one they told you to extinguish?” He paused, his gaze sweeping over the faces before him. “Let it burn!” he cried, his voice raw and impassioned. “Let it grow!”

He slammed his hoof against his chest. “Chaos does not ask for permission, it takes what is rightfully yours. It destroys not to harm, but to heal. It shatters not to break, but to set us free!”

The preacher’s voice rose to a crescendo, each word dripping with conviction. “From the ashes of this rotten world, we shall rise. Together, we will forge something new, something brighter!”

Fervent Spirit's tone turned solemn, almost reverent. “So, I ask you; will you cling to the chains of the old world, or will you break them and seize your destiny?”

He stepped to the edge of the platform, his voice barely above a whisper now, but no less commanding. “Will you kneel to their order, or will you rise with us, unbound?”

He took one final step back, lifting his face to the heavens as though invoking some unseen power. “The world must fall before it can rise. Let us be the ones to bring the fall. Let us be the ones to shape the dawn.”

The crowd erupted in shouts and cries, the preacher’s words igniting a spark of hope, anger, and fervour in every heart.

Singer looked around with dread. The faces of the gathered ponies were twisted in visages of hope, rage and determination.

It frightened the lieutenant more than she cared to admit how utterly the hearts and minds of her fellow Equestrians had been captured by a traitorous cult that worshipped a mad god.

She had a feeling that all of Equestria had severely underestimated the grip that the Cult had on the underclass of the kingdom.

The High Priest continued with his speech, diving into more nuanced topics of the Chaos Cult ideology. However, she had mostly tuned him out, instead brooding over her next course of action.

(Page Break)

Storm Singer's legs grew numb as she clung to the underside of one of the roof rafters. It had been the fifth hour since she had flown up to the high ceiling; as impressive as her athletic physique was compared to the average pony, her muscles were beginning to fatigue.

Below her stood an empty, private office. One of the very few within the underground complex. It belonged to the unofficial leader of the Manehattan branch of the cult, Dashing Velvet.

Her efforts to overhear whispers and rumours had yielded fruit when she learned that Dashing and Fervent Spirit were apparently having an “important” meeting later that night. The first time that the two would meet in private since the High Priest arrived in Manehattan the previous day.

It was just a pity that the guards who controlled access to the private wing of the complex changed shifts every six hours. It forced her to sneak into the office many hours earlier than she needed to.

The lieutenant glanced at the mechanical timepiece that was strapped to the inside of her foreleg. It was a piece of equipment that had been issued to all Royal Guards to help them keep track of their schedules and shifts.

She had an hour left until the next change of shift. If the meeting didn't happen soon, then she would be forced to spend an additional six hours dangling from the rafters; until the morning shift change before she could sneak out. She wasn't sure that her grip would hold until then.

Singer never planned to place herself in such a risky position when she first infiltrated the cult. However, she was getting desperate. With the strict compartmentalisation and secrecy of the organisation, she was making no inroads in uncovering its deeper conspiracies.

The pegasus tried to focus on her breathing and not to move around too much. She had reconfigured her illusion amulet to cast a rudimentary cloak of invisibility around her. It was very effective but only if she kept her body still.

The door to the office soon opened and Singer had to refrain from audibly sighing in relief.

The lieutenant twisted her head to get a better look at the scene below her. The partially avian structure of pegasi skeletons allowed her to turn her head to a far greater degree than earth ponies or unicorns were able to, almost a full 180°.

The distinctive forest-green and light grey coats of Fervent Spirit and Dashing Velvet were immediately visible and told her that the meeting that she had been waiting for was starting.

The two ponies said nothing until they were both inside the room and the door was completely shut. Fervent Spirit then abruptly wheeled around to face Velvet and adopted a very severely annoyed expression.

“We are losing patience, Velvet. I don't enjoy being dispatched as a low messenger to tell you to hurry along with your operations, but we are massively behind schedule because of your dawdling. It's been three weeks since the attack in Everfree and you have yet to even commence with your part of the plan.” He harshly reprimanded.

The pegasus cult leader scowled. “If you or the rest of the Conclave had bothered to consult with me beforehoof, then I would have told you how unrealistic the timeline was.” He jabbed the tip of his hoof into Fervent's chest. “I'm glad that you have such faith in my abilities that you think that I can just clap my hooves and grant your wildest wishes, but that's not how this works. What you ask for is more difficult than you realise.” He shot back.

The earth pony slapped away Velvet's hoof. “I care not for your excuses, Velvet. You promised that you could deliver and you have so far failed in keeping that promise. Our benefactors grow impatient.”

Velvet took a step closer, getting right into the High Priest's face. When he spoke his voice was far louder than it had previously been, bordering on shouting. “You speak of my supposed shortcomings as though you yourself are Discord's vision of perfection. Perhaps we should spend some time reminiscing on your failings.”

The air in the room grew colder at that statement. Fervent's expression hardened.

“Don't”

The word was almost whispered but conveyed with a deadly serious tone.

The two held their ground for a while, staring at each other in a tense silence. Then, as quickly as the tension had come, it evaporated. As though they had come to some sort of nonverbal agreement to put the matter behind them, they both stepped back and calmed themselves.

Fervent Spirit was the first to finally speak. “Regardless of what has or hasn't happened in the past, we still need to find a path forward. I'm expected to deliver a report before the rest of the Conclave. However, I need a definitive timeline from your end.” He said in a much calmer voice.

Dashing Velvet closed his eyes and gave a long-suffering sigh. “Arranging a clandestine archaeological expedition of the nature you need is not as simple as you think. The sorts of ponies that are competent in such fields and can be trusted with our secrets are rare.” He explained in an exasperated voice.

“A timeline,” Fervent demanded firmly.

“Give me ten days. I'll have everything and everypony we need ready for departure by then.” He finally stated resolutely.

The High Priest nodded in satisfaction before turning around to leave.

“You know,” Velvet remarked snidely. “All of this would have been a lot smoother if the Conclave had greenlit this expedition before the Everfree attack. I wouldn't have to deal with a strict deadline if we still had the advantage of absolute secrecy.”

Fervent stopped to look over his shoulder. “You know that the nobles demanded a demonstration of our capabilities before they agreed to fund us further. It's not all bad though, think about all the money you now have to fulfil your mission.”

Velvet didn't take the reassurance well. “It's not a matter of money, I need time!” He hissed through gritted teeth.

“You have ten days. I need to deliver my report to the rest of the Conclave. I sincerely hope that you can stick to this deadline better than the last one.” He chided before opening the door and leaving.

Velvet stamped his hoof in frustration, causing the wooden floor to splinter slightly.

“Not enough time, not enough time.” He mumbled to himself in a whisper before retreating out the door as well. Presumably to make whatever arrangements he needed to.

Finally alone once more, Storm Singer considered the information that she had just overheard. The conversation raised more questions than it answered.

Some of it was reassuring. The knowledge that there was friction between the members of the cult's leadership, as well as their panic over missed deadlines, meant that things were not going to plan for them. The fact that the attack in Everfree was Phase 1 of their plans and not the beginning of their endgame was also relieving.

The part about an archaeological expedition baffled her though. Most of the rest of the conversation made an amount of sense in context. However, that phrase was a piece of the puzzle that didn't add up.

Discord's reign was only about a hundred years ago. There are ponies alive today whose parents or grandparents experienced the Age of Strife first-hoof. There was no need for an archaeologist to uncover the history of Discord and the legacy that the monster left behind; you could just interview the children of ponies who lived through it.

The disavowment of the Old Equestrian Kingdom and previous pony civilisations was a cornerstone of the Cult's ideology. They believe that the culture, traditions and history of the past should be destroyed and forgotten, not recovered and preserved.

There was something larger at play here, she could feel. She needed to find a way onto that expedition team. It was the key to uncover what was going on.

Sunlight Breeze's family dealt in the antique and artifact trade. She could maybe use her credentials in the industry to get Velvet to consider her for a role in the mission. Maybe she could even ask Captain Sapphire to fabricate licenses and paperwork for even more qualifications. Plans and strategies swirled through her mind.

It would be risky putting herself in the front and centre of the Cult's attention. However, if was to have any chance of success in her mission, then she needed to roll the dice and take a massive risk.

She didn't know how long she spent clutching the rafters, lost in thought. Her strategizing was interrupted when her mechanical timepiece began to vibrate, alerting her to the imminent shift change. Singer released her grip on the roof, twisted her body around midair and silently glided down to the floor.

Setting her amulet back to the ‘Sunlight Breeze’ illusion, she cracked open the office door slightly, just in time to see the guards at the end of the hallway leave. She now had an opening of a few minutes before the next guards arrived.

When she finally made her way back to the common area of the cult hideout without incident, she began to solidify a plan in her mind.

Author's Note

This chapter turned out to be a lot longer than I thought it would be. I was originally envisioning it to be less than two thousand words but I really wanted to get all the necessary information down.

I also had to do a full rewrite of this chapter. I was not happy with how the first draft turned out but I'm feeling much better about this one.

I know that a lot of people are really keen on the Luna/Celestia/Windy plotline and might not be as excited by Storm Singer's side quest, especially as it's not clear yet how her story will fit into the wider narrative, so I'm keeping her interludes to a minimum. I'll do a bunch of time skips on her arc to get where the story needs to go while still keeping you updated on her activities.

I've created a Discord. I'll be posting updates there about this story and any future projects, as well as justing chatting and hanging out with all of you.

https://discord.gg/QhnsC8zNNz

Big thanks to my Beta-readers:
https://www.fimfiction.net/user/644525/History+Student

I love reading your comments and hearing your opinions. As well as interacting with you guys. Leave your thoughts down below.