Merciful Deletions

It was almost like any other day in the town of Ponyville... Autumn was arriving early this year, filling the air with a slight chill that was... More comfortable than anything else. There was hardly a cloud in the sky, with air so sweet you could practically drink it, and the only thing sweeter being the scent of fresh squeezed lemonade. All of downtown Ponyville had seemingly turned into one large block party, in celebration of the second annual 'Civil Defense Day'. A day when the town not only came out in support of their local first responders, but also ostensibly to learn important safety tips... In actuality, most were just happy to go out and have fun, and so Civil Defense Day doubled as a sort of 'Harvest Festival'.

The last such event had been interrupted by a terrible railway crash that'd forced the fire department to deploy, but no such interruption appeared to be shaping up now. A band played atop a carefully constructed stage, one of over a dozen local acts that'd agreed to take part in the festival, and giggling children ran and played among countless smiling people. There were games to be played and prizes to be won, a pie eating contest, a corn maze, hay rides, and a massive chili cook-off being hosted by the Fire Department of Ponyville. If chili wasn't one's style, Chief Macintosh had insisted there also be BBQ available. That wasn't where the food ended, with funnel cake, corn-dogs, apple fritters, cupcakes, and ice cold beer. All provided by local businesses.

One young man had been assigned to man the main BBQ smoker, and so there he stood, attired in jeans and a tight navy blue FDPV T-Shirt. The young dragon had recently enjoyed his 18th birthday --and by consequence underwent his first 'Molt'-- just prior to the arrival of the Flim Flam Brothers and their 'Super Speedy Cider Squeezy 6000'. The effects of the Molt were... Extreme. In addition to a number of other physical changes, it'd also included a brief elemental transformation, in which he'd transformed into a giant purple and green dragon. Furthermore his draconic endurance, already considerable prior to his becoming an adult, had become quite prodigious. Now allowing him to stay up for days or even a week at a time if need be without growing tired...

He now stood at a lofty 7'6" tall, with a decidedly muscular build, broad shoulders, and an even broader smile. To Spike T. Dragon, the day's celebrations may as well have represented a perfect microcosm of everything Equestria should be. Joyful, friendly, free, a snapshot of the Acadian ideal that he wished could be the norm every day... Given the various calamities that'd rocked the world of late, he could tell that the people he was serving were happy... For today they were allowing their cares and fears to fall away in favor of fun.

Doing so had become increasingly difficult ever since the return of Nightmare Moon. The ecological disaster brought by Discord's Chocolate Rain had hit Ponyville's farmers fairly hard, but they were hardy and hard working Equestrians... They faced the challenge and overcame it, just as they always had. The most recent blow to their peace of mind had been the Violet Scare -- when the government revealed to the public that they were under threat from a group of Changelings known as the 'Violet Hive'.

That'd been a rough couple months...

It was like everyone in Ponyville lost their collective minds to panic, though Spike supposed it was understandable given the circumstances. The FDPV had been called to duty more times in 9 weeks than it had in the entire year prior. There'd been a couple riots, effigies were burned, civil debates devolved into belligerent shouting matches which only made things worse. The local gun store had sold out of weapons and ammunition, which only made things worse as more than a few inexperienced gun owners accidentally shot themselves in the foot, hand, or --worst of all-- groin. Fortunately Chief Macintosh had founded the Ponyville Shooters Club, which among other things offered free gun safety and proper self-defense training courses... These had reduced negligent discharges by 57%, and Spike had attended enough of them that he also qualified as an instructor.

Spike himself had become the owner of several firearms, many having been gifts from his girlfriend Orzel. Princess Luna's adopted daughter, a dragoness the likes of which the young man had never encountered before or since. Best described as a pansophic pint-sized powerhouse, a mechanical and scientific polymath whose mind worked in ways that modern men of science struggled to quantify. She absolutely loved weapons --firearms especially-- beyond mere admiration, as at the tender age of 16 she'd designed and built her first Sub-Machine Gun. Given her rather 'unique' heritage, Spike had little doubt that her adoration for destructive devices --indeed her love for knowledge and learning in general-- had been hardwired into her very DNA.

Thus, in addition to her being Equestria's Crown-Princess, she also happened to own Basilisk Defense Technologies. A new but increasingly successful defense contractor, which had been founded at Ponyville's own Maksym Field Arsenal --formerly Prado Dorado Army Air Base-- and was contributing a fair amount of funds to the festival. Prior to the Violet Scare Orzel had been sent elsewhere, somewhere far away, where the Violets would never be able to find her. Her role was that of Equestria's 'Designated Survivor', the contingency in case something ever happened to Princesses Celestia, Luna, or Mi Amore Cadenza.

Her engineering pursuits weren't limited to gunsmithing, she was also a very skilled enchantress, potioner, and had even developed the first practical piece of bullet resistant body armor Equestria had ever seen. One of her enchanted patches even adorned Spike's flame battered bunker gear back at the station, identical to patches on all the other members of the FDPV and an increasing number of Firefighters across the country. Capable of warding off immense heat and the crushing weight of falling debris, it was no overstatement to conclude that half of the FDPV owed Orzel their lives in one form or another.

Perhaps the only thing she loved more than making guns was Spike himself, which was why she so regularly sent him firearms as gifts, several of which had been customized and decorated by hand. Prior to his actually owning one, Spike had actually been rather iffy on the topic of guns... After all, Equestria had police officers and soldiers with guns, why did normal people need guns too? Her response had been 'Because Equestria has police officers and soldiers with guns.'... As if that explained everything. Matters of 'Gun Control' had been something he and Orzel regularly fought about, but... His time as a firefighter had shown him things that changed his mind.

He'd been a firefighter for roughly a year now, and through that time he'd seen quite a lot. More than enough for a dozen lifetimes, if he was being honest. There were things out there worse than the Violets, things that the police and military might very well be able to handle, but... Why take chances? Average emergency response time was 15 minutes in Ponyville, and while that didn't seem like a lot to the uninitiated, Spike knew that 15 minutes was more than enough time for a house to become entirely involved in flames... If a changeling were to attack someone, and they managed to call the police, odds were the responding officers would more likely be investigating the victim's death than saving the victim's life.

Of course, topics of guns and national crises weren't the only stances on which Spike's position was starting to change, and he was beginning to reconsider whether or not he should continue his career as a firefighter. Sure, he'd helped put out plenty of fires, saved plenty of lives, but no matter what he did it just didn't seem... Good enough. He was a dragon. Bigger than his compatriots, and far far stronger, with an endurance and physical resilience to match. Everything he did felt like a waste of potential, not that his work wasn't important, just... Well, it was like killing a fly with a sledgehammer.

Perhaps it was for that reason that he'd taken another job, one that he'd never admitted to anyone except for Orzel. It'd all started a year ago, to the day... The Rose Township Crash. Two trains --a freight train carrying hundreds of thousands of gallons of toxic chemicals and a passenger train carrying 500+ people-- slammed head on into each other just outside Rose Township.

It'd been the largest disaster site Spike ever worked, and indeed had handily broken records for the deadliest railway collision in Equestrian history.

The flames had burned so intensely that by the end the tires of the fire trucks had melted and fused with the asphalt, all while the FDPV had battled the inferno whilst in an environment wholly hostile to life. Were it not for their respirators and Orzel's protective patches, all members of the FDPV likely would've been badly burned and poisoned, as had been the case for the brave but unfortunate members of the Rose Township Volunteer Fire Brigade. Of the people aboard the trains themselves, only 20 survived, most of them with life changing injuries. The rest were too badly burned to be identified --if their remains were even found to begin with-- as most had simply burned to ashes.

It was as Spike was searching for survivors in that hellacious environment that Spike had discovered the desiccated body of a man in his underwear, identifiable only by a Maltese cross tattooed to his chest. The same man was a member of the Volunteer Brigade, and was simultaneously helping to combat the blaze... Orzel had warned Spike to be mindful of such happenings, and to call a certain phone number and speak a certain word if ever he found them... 'Even this' she said 'was saying more than she should've'.

So that was precisely what Spike did... He'd called the number, spoke the magic word, and maybe an hour and a half later the scene was joined by a unit of 'Military Firefighters' who quickly secured a perimeter and 'contained' the imposter. Suffice to say, Spike now regularly trained with his weapons, and had no qualms lumping himself in with Equestria's growing 'Pro-Gun' crowd.

The man leading the clean-up effort at the crash had been Piercing Gaze, Sub-Director of the Nocturne Agency and Director of OPTIC --the Office of Paranormal Threat Interdiction and Containment'-- one of its subordinate branches. He'd offered Spike a job as one of OPTIC's Local Observers, first responders whose primary mission was to monitor their local community for anything... Well... Paranormal. If they encountered anything like that while performing their regular duties, they were to quietly contact OPTIC HQ and await an Agent or Cerberus Team to contain and hush up the incident.

So far Spike had made some pretty important catches, averting a number of disasters that the people of Ponyville didn't even realize could've been disasters, if they even noticed at all... Most didn't ever even become aware their lives had come close to changing. Perhaps that was why he enjoyed the OPTIC job more than firefighting, it gave him the chance to prevent the fires before they even started, but... Even that didn't seem like enough. He was considering going off to join the Navy, as had been his initial intention... He was old enough now that he didn't need his Mom's permission to enlist, but... That would re-open a can of worms Twilight wanted to permanently remain closed.

"Hey Spike!" A sudden cheerful voice snapped Spike out of his inner thoughts, back to the warm celebratory atmosphere. The young man adopted a friendly smile as his eyes settled on the voice's source, Applebloom, Chief Macintosh's younger sister, who happened to be around Spike's age. She wore a yellow sundress, her vibrant red hair tied up in a ponytail, a large empty paper plate held in her hands.

"Hey Applebloom. What can I get you?" Spike spoke as he opened the lid on the smoker. A small cloud of smoke wafted up, flooding his nostrils with an overwhelmingly delicious aroma of cooking meat and burning charcoal. "We've got brisket, ribs, chicken, even some of those big turkey legs."

Applebloom fluttered her eyes at him, offering a smile Spike recognized as her attempting to be flirtatious. He'd known for the past year that she had feelings for him, something he'd been honest with Orzel with from the outset... The dragoness didn't seem all that phased by the news, which was more than Spike could say for himself, then again a slab of granite could take notes from Orzel's resting expression.

Spike meanwhile was personally left feeling a little awkward, though he'd thankfully become rather adept at hiding it. Considering his relationship with Orzel was quite literally a state secret, there was part of him that felt he couldn't very well come out and tell Applebloom he was spoken for... Not without incurring a number of uncomfortable questions or accusations that he was simply making things up.

"Brisket's my favorite, I'll have some of that." The young woman's answer was just as cheerful as her greeting, and so Spike dutifully began cutting off strips of one of the numerous briskets sizzling in the smoker. "Y'know, the girls and I were gonna go swimming down by the river later..." She began almost too casually, prompting Spike to speed up his cutting of the brisket. The arrival of someone else in line behind the young woman was also a factor.

"I'm not much of a swimmer." Spike took Applebloom's plate and piled it high with brisket, though he also left space in case she wanted to move down the line and get some sides.

"Neither am I." She responded coyly. "Come on, Spike. Every time I ask you to do something you're always turning me down, and it's not as if I see you doing anything around town. Do I have bad breath or something?"

"No, that's not it. I like you, I like hanging out with you, but..." Spike sighed, closing the lid on the smoker and setting the tongs down on the nearby table.

"But what? You have a girlfriend you've neglected to tell me about?"

"Yes." Spike blurted, inwardly cursing himself... He honestly hadn't expected her to ask so bluntly, or for himself to respond in kind. "It's complicated, okay? I know this is gonna sound fake, but she doesn't live in Ponyville... As I said, I like you, Applebloom. I really do, but... Not that way." Applebloom looked at him ponderously, then sighed heavily and nodded.

"That's all you had to say." With that she took her plate and walked off, leaving Spike to quietly scratch his head. The spots around his pointy green horns tended to itch the most when he was confused or befuddled, and he was most definitely both. Was it really that simple? No... If Chief Macintosh was to be believed, it most definitely was not... Women were --in the Chief's own monosyllabic words-- 'odd and strange', and Spike could only count his lucky stars that he'd somehow fallen in love with one who was by all accounts hardwired to be as 'logical' as possible. Not that he'd ever say other women weren't logical... He valued his life too highly for that.

"I'm guessing she's gonna be pissed for a bit, then she'll get over it. Just make sure you don't tell her to 'calm down', although that's really a general rule for most people." Said the next person in line, walking up with a plate of his own. Spike recognized the slight Trottingham accent in his voice before his face, as he'd only ever seen him in person once or twice. Sub-Director Piercing Gaze, the very model of a scholarly gentleman. Thin, with an average build and an average face, he sported a simple black suit and tie. Round metal-rimmed spectacles rested precariously on the tip of his nose, and he was puffing upon an old wooden pipe. "How's it going, lad? Mind grabbing me one of those giant turkey legs you mentioned?"

"Something tells me you aren't here just for turkey legs, sir." Spike responded, once more opening the smoker and grabbing said turkey leg with the tongs. This he placed on Piercing's plate, steaming hot and smoked to perfection. "What's up?"

"Walk with me." The Sub-Director simply responded, nodding his head off towards an otherwise unassuming area of downtown Ponyville.

"Hey, Maple? Could you cover for me for a bit?" Spike called to one of his fellow firefighters. Upon receiving a thumbs up, Spike stepped away from the smoker and made his way around to the front, where he quickly commenced walking beside Piercing. "Is something wrong? Did something happen to Orzel?"

"No, nothing happened to Orzel..." Piercing soothed, briefly pausing to take a bite of his turkey leg. "Gods, the rub on this is excellent! I'll have to get the recipe from someone... Anyway." He proclaimed, snapping his fingers and summoning a napkin with a flurry of prismatic magic. This he used to hastily wipe his face clean of grease. "I know this is a little sudden, but Ponyville was on the way and I figured I'd ask."

"Ask what?"

"Ask if maybe you wanted to tag along with me on a little OPTIC gig, lad!" Piercing proclaimed, sharply smacking Spike on the back with his free hand. "Your reports are well written, you've got a good eye for trouble, and you certainly meet the physical requirements." Spike just stared at him, not entirely sure what he meant by an 'OPTIC gig'. Ever the observant one, Piercing answered the unspoken question. "Look... You know OPTIC isn't some organization you can just join, right? It's very much a 'Don't call us, we'll call you' sort of game. Typically we draw from the Army and Marines, but anyone can be selected."

"So... You're asking me what… To be an Agent? Is this a one time thing?" Spike was unable to conceal his confusion, or his shock at such a blunt offer.

"Of course not. I want to train you up, turn you into a lean mean cult and monster fighting machine!" Piercing responded between bites of his turkey leg. "I won't sugar coat it for you, you'd need to move back to Canterlot and there's gonna be a lot of weird, and pardon my Prench here, 'fucked up' stuff... That's just OPTIC's bag. But the pay is better than what you're making now, not to mention the benefits, which is something we never had back when I started out... We even get dental."

"Why now? Why so suddenly?"

"Because I find myself in need of an extra pair of big muscular hands for a couple cases I'm working..." Was the simple answer. "Yes, the Sub-Director still goes out on cases. My abilities would be wasted behind a desk, I'm at my best when I'm in the field, and that's kind of my point." Piercing adopted an apologetic expression. "You're a great firefighter, and I'm not trying to say your work isn't important, because it is, but... As a dragon you have a unique set of gifts, abilities that would be better suited to a career in OPTIC. I'll understand if you say 'No', but I'm hoping you say yes."

"It's funny... I was having the same thoughts before you came up." Spiked admitted quietly, tucking his hands into his pockets as the two of them carried on through Ponyville's downtown, on towards the looming leafy tree-top of Golden Oak Library. The massive hollowed out tree where he presently lived, albeit in the confines of an uncomfortably small broom closet... There wasn't exactly a spare bedroom, after all.

Spike took a moment to examine Piercing more closely, and as he did he found that the look in his eyes was... Familiar. A thousand yards distant. The sort of look Spike had come to associate with Orzel whenever she was remembering something unpleasant.

"My guess is you're having those thoughts because you sense it too... A feeling that we're on the brink of something terrible. That the world as we know it is on the precipice of destruction, and that's because it is. It falls to patriots like us to save it. Men who are willing to drop everything, and put the needs of their fellow man above their own. Men who are willing to make the safety of Equestria their personal responsibility." Piercing continued seriously, resting his half-eaten turkey leg back on his plate. "I won't lie, this job will take a piece of you, one way or another. It's thankless, everything we do has to remain out of the public eye, odds are you'll alienate a lot of folks... I understand if you don't think you're up to it, and I know this is me literally asking you to drop everything in your life, but I need an answer... Your country needs you, son."

Spike inhaled slowly through his nose, his eyes flitting between Piercing and the library ahead. He wasn't entirely sure how to respond, not at first at any rate. Piercing had just given voice to the question Spike had been asking himself for a while, and he couldn't help thinking that how he answered that question would define the kind of man he was. As established, he was a dragon... He was endowed with strengths and abilities that gave him an edge in sheer physicality that most Equestrians could only dream of.

He could continue to use those abilities to great effect helping Ponyville's fire department, and Spike had no doubt he would save numerous lives if he chose to do so, but... He also got the feeling that Piercing was right. For the past year or so he'd noticed a creeping dread, the cracks starting to form in Ponyville and elsewhere. They were hidden now beneath the air of festivity, but they were still there. He hated it... The powerless, hopeless, endless anxiety that gnawed and skittered in the darkest shadows of his mind like some wicked infestation of vermin.

No doubt it was a similar formless thing that haunted many of his fellow countrymen whenever their thoughts turned to the future, and there he sat with the chance to do something... To take up arms against the beast, to slay that harrowing horror once and for all, for it simply could not be allowed to live.

His thoughts turned gradually to the faces of those he loved and treasured... Twilight Sparkle, who had raised him as her own son, and all the members of her family that'd aided in that raising... Shining Armor --a career officer-- who had taught him right and wrong, and instilled in him the sense of patriotic duty, honor, and integrity that made him aspire to a life of public service. Then there was Orzel, the Crown-Princess for whom he would gladly lay down his life... Not only because it was his patriotic duty, but because she was his light in a world growing perpetually darker... A beacon of warmth and affection in an ocean otherwise as black as pitch.

A surprisingly devout young woman whose strength of convictions could best be described as templaric. Were she faced with the same question he faced now, Spike had no doubt what her choice would be. She would not hesitate to purge the forces of evil from the face of Equus, and would do so with all the incandescent fury of an avenging angel. In a way she already was, seeing as much of her enchanting work of late was directed at aiding OPTIC...

Though the darkness surrounded his thoughts, though the storm of indecision raged and railed against the confines of his mind, there soon came a glimmer of recognition. Ever so faintly, ever so briefly... It showed him the path to a decision he hadn't realized he'd already made long ago. Spike was a proud Equestrian, dragon or no. He wanted to serve his country and serve it well. To give back to a nation that'd given him so much, for it was his solemn belief that the strong had a duty to protect the weak...

Were it not for Twilight's refusal to give her permission, he would've enlisted in the Navy at 17... He would at that very moment be serving his country aboard a ship in the ocean, his life in harms way far from the shores of the land that'd born him all these years. Orzel referred to Equestria as her 'New Motherland', a fitting description in Spike's mind. Now Piercing was standing here, telling Spike that his country --his 'Motherland'-- needed him, needed him to do more with his natural gifts than ever before.

Spike knew that he'd never be able to look at himself in a mirror again should he refuse, not without feeling ashamed. No... Spike had to be true to himself, had to do what he felt was right. Duty was calling... How could he still call himself a patriot if he refused to answer?

"Alright, I'm in."

"Great! I'm proud of you, lad!" Piercing cheered, picking up the turkey leg and gesturing towards the library. "Go on and pack a bag for yourself. I don't know how long we'll be, so it'd be best to pack for a week, maybe two. It'd also probably be good if you grabbed your guns... Like... All of them. I'll swing the car around."

Spike merely nodded, swiftly entering the front door and stepping into the library proper. The space itself was rather small, but the shelves were all perfectly organized, all the returned books having been placed in their respective slots... Not by Spike's hand or even by Twilight's, but rather by a number of enchanted constructs. They were only a foot tall and resembled a humanoid shape, but were hewn from iron and wood. Yet another gift from Orzel, the first one having been given at Hearth's Warming Eve. She'd basically enchanted it to do his job at the library for him, that way he could go and 'live his own life' without making things more difficult for his Mom...

Twilight herself was actually out enjoying the festivities with her friends, though that was probably for the best. No doubt she'd have something to say about him dropping everything. Then again... How many times had she done the same for Princess Celestia when she needed her? Even so, he would've liked to say goodbye. For now the best he could was leave a note. Setting his jaw, Spike quickly made his way up the steps to the second floor where his broom closet awaited him. Opening the door to the small space, he had to duck through the door frame.

While not the picture of neatness, Spike had widely done his best to keep his room clean. A half finished miniature minotaur rested on his desk beside his modeling paint and a number of O&O source books. The bed was made as best as it could, and occupied half the room's space. Situated beside his dresser was the room's newest addition, a tall narrow gun safe. Approaching the sleek black citadel of reinforced steel, Spike quickly set to inputting his combination 31-24-36 -- Orzel's physical measurements... With a mechanical clatter he undid the latch, swinging the heavy door open to reveal the weapons within.

Presently Spike owned three rifles, one semi-automatic, one automatic, and one bolt action. The first and last were military surplus, each chambered in .30-06, that Spike had purchased for himself at auction with the intention of taking up hunting. The bolt action fed from a 5 round internal magazine, while the semi-automatic fed from an 8 round ENBLOC clip. The automatic 'Assault Rifle' was by comparison quite new, a variation on the military's new service rifle, chambered in the equally new 7.62x39mm. In addition there were the guns given to him by Orzel: a 10 Gauge Pump-Action shotgun, a Police Surplus .44 Magnum revolver, a replica .40 Caliber Cap-and-Ball revolver, and a customized P1936 'Equalizer' semi-automatic pistols, chambered in the newly adopted 10mm Auto.

Though it was perhaps a little 'flashy', the latter most was typically Spike's everyday carry piece, both because it packed a wallop and because the workmanship that'd gone into it was a constant reminder of the woman he loved. He'd only left it at home today because there were plenty of police out to enforce the law at the party, and while he trusted in his own training, the fact remained there were plenty of kids running around out there, and they had a habit of grabbing for things they weren't supposed to. Better to leave it safe and secure at home.

The blue steel and small ornate gold engravings spoke volumes as to the skilled woman that crafted it, as although on its surface it appeared merely as a fancifully decorated pistol, it was so much more. The weapon was adorned with holy symbols of half a dozen Gods and Goddesses of light and protection, not to mention faintly pulsating emerald green enchanted runes and sigils, all of which had been applied with painstaking care by hand. Though some might find the recoil a bit unwieldy, the weapon was proportioned well to Spike's rather sizable hands. The man had no doubts as to its efficacy, or why it'd been so heavily enchanted to begin with. This weapon in particular was a response to the Rose Township Crash and the Violet Scare. Just as Spike worried constantly for Orzel, so too did Orzel worry constantly for him...

Spike spent a few moments admiring the weapons, then left them to quickly change out of his FDPV shirt and into a simple black t-shirt. He spent the next couple minutes packing an old olive drab duffel bag he'd purchased at the same Army Surplus Auction as his rifles, stuffing it to brimming with with just about every piece of clothing he had, as well as a large cigar box he typically kept under his bed, which contained some of his more treasured belongings. A few more minutes saw his weapons and ammunition secured in their own bag, save for the Equalizer, which he wore in an appendix holster about his waist.

Tightening the laces on his boots, Spike donned a brown leather bomber jacket. He had to take a moment to adjust the fur-lined collar before slipping on a pair of aviators. Taking one final moment to regard himself in the mirror, the man couldn't help adopting a slight grin. While he did his best to keep himself humble, it'd become increasingly difficult since his Molt not to stop and... Admire himself at times. Dragons just had a natural tendency towards a certain degree of vanity, or so he was reliably informed. With that final check of himself out of the way, he carried his bags downstairs.

With a fair degree of haste Spike wrote a note to Twilight to inform her of what he was doing... Even she didn't know he worked for OPTIC, so no doubt that revelation would come as a surprise. His little enchanted helper would take up the slack, so she wouldn't need to worry about the library in his absence. Next he wrote a note to Chief Macintosh, explaining that while he'd enjoyed being a firefighter, his country needed his service elsewhere now... He hoped they'd both understand, and that his sudden departure wouldn't leave any hard feelings.

With that, Spike made his way out of the library. True to his word, Piercing was waiting out front. Apparently having finished his turkey leg in Spike's absence, he'd since resumed puffing on his pipe. He was leaning against a very large black four-door sedan, the trunk of which was already open. As Spike tossed his bags into the back, he couldn't help noticing how much trunk space there was. One could easily hide a couple bodies in there if they wanted to. Not that Spike had ever needed to hide a body, of course. Closing the trunk with a heavy thud, Spike straightened his jacket and looked to Piercing.

"You got everything, lad?" The man asked curiously, exhaling a small cloud of smoke. "Wallet, ammo, cash?" Spike briefly patted himself down, double checking that he indeed had his wallet, tucked into the back pocket of his jeans. Responding with a simple 'Yeah', Piercing smiled. "Great, you can drive!" With that he tossed a keyring at Spike, something the young man snatched deftly out of the air.

"Alright... Where am I driving to?" Spike asked, watching Piercing walk around to the passenger side. Both men climbed in at roughly the same time, each closing their respective door with a weighty 'Thunk!'.

"Long term? My best guess is Manehattan, though honestly I'm not entirely sure." Piercing said simply, prompting Spike to do a double take. "With a bunch of stops along the way."

"But that's like... 2,000 miles! Can't we take a train? How about a plane? Maksym Field is a less than 40 minute drive."

"Closer to 2,200 actually, not counting those stops I mentioned. And no, we can't take a train or a plane." Piercing agreed, rolling down his window and continuing to puff on his pipe.

"What about teleporting? You're a wizard, right? Can't you teleport?"

"In theory? Yes... Perhaps I should rephrase. We could take a plane, or a train, or even teleport, but it's better if we drive. It's gonna take me some me time to get you up to speed on how the Agency operates, and I want to give you plenty of time to ask questions. We'll probably get some 'on the job' training in as well." Piercing did raise a good point, as Spike knew next to nothing about field operations... Nonetheless, it was a tad annoying. The enigmatic scholar was doing his best to make himself comfortable in the passenger seat. Spike sighed heavily, gritting his teeth and slipping the keys into the ignition. With a flick of his wrist the engine rumbled to life, moments later the radio came on, playing some smooth jazz. Out of habit Spike reached for the knob to change the station. "Hey, I like this!"

"If I'm driving 2,000 miles, you can bet I'm picking the station." Spike retorted bluntly, swiftly shifting the channel to a station broadcast out of Canterlot. He'd developed an affinity for the draconic music genre known as 'synthwave', something that Piercing evidently hadn't listened to before. "Just... Give it a chance, yeah?" This time it was Piercing's turn to sigh, but he didn't press the issue further. "So... Fill me in, what's the story?"

"Stories, actually. As I said, a number of stops, each should be a good example of a typical OPTIC case, and each should give us an idea as to where we're going overall. My best guess is Manehattan, but that could change depending on what we find. For all I know, we might wind up in Las Pegasus or Applewood, maybe Baltimare or Fillydelphia. It's all up in the air at the moment." Piercing said with a shrug as Spike paused to adjust his mirrors, then put the car in gear and started making his way along the eastbound roads. "Have you ever heard of Abyssinia?" Spike shook his head. "I recommend looking into it sooner rather than later. At least tell me you know about the Abyss War, right?"

"Yeah, I mean I'm aware of it. Orzel talked about it a bunch, but I'll admit I kinda... Zoned out. Refresh my memory."

"It was conflict waged between the Ancients and the forces of the Abyss. The Ancients are basically what you'd call 'precursors', at least in the parlance of your average science fiction." Piercing commenced with a scholarly tone, as if he was addressing an entire lecture hall rather than one man in a sedan. "I mean, you take all the technology we have now and multiply it by a hundred, you still wouldn't come close to them... Being as technologically enlightened as they were, they eventually ran out of stuff to explore here on Equus, so they got it into their heads to look elsewhere for knew things to discover. Not other planets, though... No, the Ancients liked to do things big, so they started snooping around other universes."

"And lemme guess, the Abyss was one of those universes." Spike interjected, to which Piercing only nodded. "The fact that there aren't any of these Ancients still around and that it's called the Abyss War kinda tells me things didn't end well."

"I didn't say there weren't any left. Some of their descendants are still alive and well, you know them as Princesses Celestia, Luna, Cadence, and to a certain extent even our dear Orzel." Piercing clarified. By now they were passing by the fire station, soon they'd be going over the Eastern Bridge. "There's rumors the rest went off to hide in the Western Unknown, but... I'm getting off track. The Ancients opened a portal to the Abyss, things went bad, and monsters under the thrall of the powerful beings in the Abyss threatened to wipe out all life on Equus as we know it. Now, can you guess the site of the portal through which these creatures ruled?"

"Abyssinia." Deduced Spike, chuckling and shaking his head. "Okay, so I'm going to make an intuitive leap here and say that the reason I need to know about Abyssinia is because that's where the Abyss' forces were most concentrated, so there's probably a bunch of bad stuff left over. Sort of like... Landmines or unexploded bombs?"

"Exactly. Except in this case they're masquerading as historical artifacts. Trinkets, baubles, things that to the untrained eye might appear innocuous but are --in fact-- much more dangerous than landmines or bombs." Piercing concluded, sighing heavily through his nose as they rolled over the Eastern Bridge, putting them on a four-lane road from Ponyville to Rose Township and beyond. "Landmines and bombs only go off and kill people once, artifacts are the unwanted gifts that keep on giving... More like improperly disposed of radioactive waste, really."

"And you think someone in Manehattan might possibly have one?"

"Kind of... A recent archeological expedition in Abyssinia listed a number of artifacts that caught the Agency's eye. They were going to be put on display at the Manehattan Museum of Nature and History for a few months before being sent off to Mare-skatonic University for further study. The Manehattan field office was looking into it, but... Someone hit the expedition's ship as they were entering the harbor, made off with a literal boatload of uncatalogued artifacts." Piercing took a steady puff on his pipe, gradually nodding his head along now with the steady synthetic beat. "Those stops I mentioned are areas we suspect the items to have been trafficked to, it's a fairly long list of suspects. I'm the foremost expert on Abyssinia during the Abyss Period, I wanna get an idea what it is we're dealing with first."

"Something tells me these are more than 'typical' OPTIC cases then." Spike said with a shrug, leaning back in the seat as he accelerated along the open stretch of highway, one that a year ago he and his fellow firefighters had raced down, their sirens screeching and caterwauling as they careened towards the unfortunate township of Rose. "You don't send your foremost expert out on something a more junior agent could handle, let alone have him make an emergency stop in Ponyville to get 'back up'... Come on, sir. This is about more than 'training me up', otherwise you wouldn't have needed my answer in such a rush, or suggest that I pack such heavy firepower."

"You're a natural at this, lad." Piercing sighed, smoke filtering out through his nostrils. "That list of suspects I mentioned? It's a long list, but it's getting shorter. Maybe it's all cursed artifacts, or maybe they know something they shouldn't and someone's cleaning house. Either way, they're disappearing. I mean, some are just vanishing without a trace, others have gone less pleasantly, and so far all anyone can seem to discern is that there's nothing that can really be discerned."

"And the only people that would have access to that list...?"

"Work at the Agency." Piercing finished Spike's thought with another shake of his head. "We know of at least one Mole that's been leaking intel to the Griffons, and we still haven't been able to catch him yet. If there's someone passing information along to a hostile cult, I dare say that'd be even worse."

"Which explains why you grabbed me in particular. I'm an outsider, which makes me one of the few people you can trust."

"As I said, lad. You're a natural."

Spike merely nodded, leaning back in his seat and gripping the wheel with one hand. Less than 20 minutes ago he'd been serving brisket to his friends and neighbors, now he was about to get involved in some sort of... He wasn't even sure what to call it. Adventure? Mission? Case? In a lot of ways he was reminded of this exact day a year ago, the last Civil Defense Day celebration... There he too had been forced away from the festivities to go and face some terrible disaster... The man couldn't help wondering if maybe there was just something about this particular day. He would've liked to have gone more than a year without another life changing crisis.

The slow chilled out synth melody was at least more soothing than the screech of sirens, and the ride wasn't nearly as bumpy as that afforded by the fire truck's stiff suspension. Piercing appeared to be getting into the music himself, albeit in a far more limited capacity... Then again, Spike didn't know much about the scholar. Orzel trusted him enough to look after her company's day-to-day operations in her absence, and rumor had it Princess Luna was in a romantic relationship with him. Either would've been a pretty solid voucher as to his character, but to have both... Well, that meant Spike had to trust him, right?

The late afternoon gradually turned to dusk, and it was about this time that they were driving through Rose Township, right along the very same railway tracks that'd been host to such destruction. They'd since been repaired, the wreckage long cleared away, and the site thoroughly decontaminated... There were still the charred black remains of a dozen or so trees, not to mention several nasty gashes that'd been carved into the ground by derailed cars. They were scars that, like Spike's memory of the event, had yet to even begin to fade.

Night fell shortly thereafter, and Spike's aviators soon found themselves tucked into the center console between his seat and Piercing's. There wasn't a street lamp for miles, any oncoming traffic was likewise scarce, only the steady dashed lines painted on the highway pavement... Darting briefly into view by the light of the headlights, only to vanish just as rapidly in the crimson taillights' glow as the car sped along. He wasn't sure exactly where he was supposed to be going, then again Piercing likely wanted to keep that information close to the vest. With synth in his ears and a feeling of uncertainty in his gut, Spike carried on into the cool foreboding night...