One Last Mission

Day ???

???, ???

In an old wooden building, before my hooves, what had once been a stallion laid limp on the ground. A thick, ever growing pool of red poured from where his head had once been, a shotgun lying on his chest. It pointed upwards, to his neck, and would have rested on his chin if he still had one. He didn’t, as what had once made it up had joined his skull and brain to be splattered everywhere, including on me.

This was my fault, yet not in the traditional way that many in the wasteland brought death. I had him under my hoof like some raider warlord, following my every command as if it was either that or Tartarus. It actually made me feel powerful, and the extension of the timer in my head only encouraged me further. Then I gave that final order, and watched as a life brought itself to an end.

What the fuck had I just done?

There had to have been a better way to handle that; a command that kept me safe while not making a pony off themself. Yet my brain had jumped to this conclusion, and I was left to stare at the consequences. Nothing was worth this, so why? Why had I given him that command? What twisted, messed up thing inside of me would ever want…

My mouth felt dry, and with how I had turned inwards from shock and horror a realization came over me. I was hungry, really hungry. Eyes glued to the corpse before me, a dark and twisted thing inside of me wormed its way up. There was something about the muscle, the fat, and the bits of gore and blood on my face that suddenly seemed a lot more enticing than previously.

As if it had its own mind, my tongue slipped out of my muzzle and tasted the crimson ichor on it. A simple little lick turned into another, and another, until it had run across as much of myself as it possibly could. That wasn’t enough, something inside me begged for more, and the hunger in my stomach asked for the same. Without even thinking, I started to drag my hoof forward, toward the body.

I needed flesh. I needed their flesh.

Before I knew it my muzzle was slowly leaning down towards his torso. A whisper in my ear egged me onwards, just as hungry as I was. Maybe hungrier, and their hunger did nothing but full my own, the only thing keeping me from digging straight in being a small piece of my brain trying everything within its power to tell me what I was doing is wrong. It was even quieter than the whisper, too quiet. Moments before my nose would have touched the body, that voice was snuffed out.

Fully convinced that I needed this, I dug in. My teeth somehow ripped flesh open, spitting it out as I tasted the fur that lined it. Muscle was torn off, chewed on, and swallowed after a serious amount of chewing. Bone appeared not long after, trying to protect organs that were barely holding on, but they proved easy to break. All it took was a single stomp to shatter any that I saw, and after haphazardly removing them I was able eat more.

I’m not sure how long I had spent eating, nothing else seeming to matter but the overwhelming hunger in my body. No matter how much I ate, it never dimmed. The hunger pains grew worse and worse, as if my body was burning through the food faster than I swallowed it. The worse it got, the more certain I was that I needed to eat more.

More.

More!

More!

My body craved more! More flesh, more bone, all of it! This was the only way to sate the hunger. I needed to eat more of this pony. I needed to eat more ponies. I needed to eat, eat, EAT!

Something wrapped around my neck and tugged me away from my meal. I thrashed and squirmed, snarling and attempting to bite the thing that dared to interrupt me. It didn’t relent, it’s grasp far stronger than my own despite all my best efforts. With every swing of my head, I watched as a zebra dragged the dead pony away. I wanted so badly to kill her, to eat her, but yet the thing holding me wouldn’t let go!

“__, you really shouldn’t struggle that much!” The thing behind me said. “You are the last pony I would want to snap the neck of.”

With each second that ticked by, my hunger became less all consuming. It never left, I was horribly aware of how badly I was starving, but somehow I found myself… thinking again. It hadn’t even occurred to me that everything my body had just done was pure animalistic instinct. Yet the more my senses came back to me, I came to better understand how that didn’t fit.

Ponies didn’t eat other ponies.

Though I had calmed down considerably, Willow Wisp didn’t let go of me. I was still held tight, likely in fear that my body would immediately start dragging itself towards the corpse. A corpse I had made, and a corpse that brought out the piece of the Gluttonous One that lingered down inside me. It was so strong; I never stood a chance at resisting.

“W… Willow,” I replied, the emotion drained from my voice as my mind continued to try and comprehend what I had done. “You can… you can let me down now.”

She did, though not before moving me to a corner where the blood pool that had once marked where the corpse’s head used to be was out of sight. The quiet that overtook the entirety of __ was haunting. When had the fighting stopped? Was everypony okay? Was Mud still alive?

I allowed my head to hang as I thought about everything that had just occurred. In doing so, I noticed something on my flank that hadn’t been there previously. It was a collection of black and white swirls, all moving towards a central point. I checked the other side of my flank, and saw the exact same thing there. No more need to figure out exactly what it was.

Any other filly or colt would be ecstatic about getting their cutie mark. For me, the moment felt as hollow as a pegasi’s bones.

The timer in my head was fluctuating like mad, as if unable to tell if my life had just extended or shortened. A cutie mark, in some cases, would hint towards the former considering it meant you had found your special talent. The Gluttonous One’s hold on me made it feel more like a tiny bandage on an extremely large wound. Somehow, not knowing how much longer my life may be was the most terrifying thing in the world. More terrifying than death being mere seconds away.

“Congrats, __. I knew you’d get it eventually,” Willow replied, her wing wrapping around me gently. I wanted to turn away from it, but the wing had joined the rest of her body in obtaining a new coat of red. “Oh, my little pony-eating savior is now truly a mare. How did you get it?”

“I… I….”

My mouth wasn’t working, but that didn’t mean I was oblivious to the circumstances surrounding how I had obtained my cutie mark. It hadn’t been around before those mercenaries came into __ wanting to kill me, and the same went for when the stallion had put the gun to my head with the plan to do just that.

“He killed himself… because I ordered him to,” I muttered, both as an answer to Willow’s question and an affirmation to myself of the horrible thing I had just done.

The mare next to me gasped, but one glance at her face showed me it was more due to excitement than shock.“I’ve never heard of a pony getting a talent like that! How did you do it?”

“M… magic. I’m not sure how but,” I slowly brought one of my forehooves to touch the tip of my horn, “I ordered him to do a lot of things, and he followed them all. It felt good, being in control for once.”

“So you can control ponies?” Willow asked, just to make entirely sure she was getting it right. I nodded. “Oh, the ponies we could kill if we put your talent and my skills together.”

The horrifying naivety in the pegasi’s tone, I know it was just who she was but it felt so wrong. Every word she said dripped with excitement and enthusiasm, her twisted view of reality leaving her unable to see the truth. The hoof touching my horn fell in front of my eyes as I searched it for any sign that the Gluttonous One had more of a hold. I found nothing.

That was a good thing, right?

“I take it you two are the ponies that Stitch sent me after?”

The raspy voice that interrupted my musings caused my head to jerk up. Before me was a unicorn colt, or at least they looked like one. They were a ghoul, like that Ditzy mare that I had met at __. Where she had this friendly expression pasted on her face that made her feel safe, he came across as more brat-like. The better-than-you look he wore was enough to gain my attention, and it was only fueled by that obnoxiously bright-looking blue and yellow shirt he wore.

Not to mention the goggles he wore looked like they were actually part of his body. It looked stupid.

“Dead Hooves and Willow Wisp, right?” He asked. That tone of his, it made me want to deal with him even less, so I ignored him. “For fucks sake just give me a yes or a no!”

“Yep, that's us,” Willow answered. “What is a little ghoul like you doing out and about?”

“First off, I’m nineteen, don’t call me little,” the ghoul replied. He levitated a saddle bag off his flank and onto the ground, allowing me to see his own cutie mark. It was a heart that had been cut into. “Secondly, the name is Open Heart. I’ve been asked to check you both for injuries, so save your ghoul-hating comments for after I possibly save your lives.”

I looked at the small box my friend was presenting to me, the material something I had never seen before. Confused, I looked up to his parents, despite how much they scared me deep down. Both were smiling at me warmly as if I was their own daughter, Ironsight’s mother specifically motioning me to accept the box.

“I-I, um, what is this?” I asked.

“It’s a gift,” Ironsight replied, holding the box out a little bit further. “It’s from us, and for you.”

I looked at the box again, trying to figure out what it was meant for. A gift, but what was it a gift for? It seemed ordinary, featureless, not at all interesting. I felt compelled to ask if it was a joke, but I refused to actually ask it. Dad always said things like ‘shut up’ or hit me or locked me in my room when I asked him questions. Would Ironsight’s parents do the same? I didn’t want to change it.

“Thanks I-Iron,” I said, reaching my hooves out. He gave me the box, and I clutched it close. “So. what is the box meant to be for?”

As soon as the words left my mouth, I inwardly screamed at myself. Closing my eyes, I waited for some form of retaliation for speaking out of line. Instead, Ironsight trotted right up to my side, put his hoof on my shoulder, and did a little whistle. He always did that when he wanted me to pay attention to him. I did manage to open my eyes, but I was too ashamed at what I said to look at him.

“The box isn’t the actual gift __. The gift is what’s inside the box,” Ironsight’s dad said. The smile on his face no longer seemed so bright. “We heard you’ve never gotten anything for your birthday and, well, Ironsight insisted we fixed that.”

My ears went flat, eyeing the box with even more concern than before. My attention turned to my friend, my vision feeling slightly blurry. “You… you didn’t need to.”

“It was nothing about needing to, __,” he replied. He wrapped a wing around me, holding me closer and more comforting than anypony I knew. “Somepony needed to make up for eleven years of no gifts, and I wanted that to be me. It’s only one, I know, but I think you’ll really like it.”

“Go one now, __; open it,” Ironsight’s mom said, doing a little motion with her wing.

Well, it would be rude not to open it, correct?

Slowly, carefully, as if fearing the strange material would cut me open, I opened up the box and peered inside. I didn’t take it out, or ask what it was, I just looked at the small box of cloud and electronics that laid inside, and felt my vision blur to the point that seeing was impossible. The corners of my lips twitched up and down, unable to decide if this moment was truly a happy one. My muzzle hung open, unsteady breaths entering and leaving it as I broke into a quiet, shameful cry.

Inside the box was a simple radio, not unlike what most pegasi had. A knob for tuning frequencies and volume, an on and off button, but nothing else. It seemed so silly to be crying over what many in the Enclave viewed as a standard piece of their home, but it was luxurious to my eyes. There was no doubt this little container of circuits and whatnot was more expensive than anything else I owned.

Anything… else. I owned this. What a strange, unfamiliar feeling it was, having something to call my own.

“__? Everything okay?” Ironsight asked me.

I looked from the radio to him, or at least I tried to. The box my present was contained in fell from my hooves as I lunged at him, forehooves and wings clinging to him like a lifeline. The tears falling from my face, the quiet sobs leaving my muzzle, they came from nowhere. Why was my body reacting like this? A present really couldn’t be that big of a deal.

Yet I was still hung to Ironsight, just like he was now wrapping himself around me. I didn’t deserve to have somepony as nice as him in my life. He deserved somepony so much better than me as a friend, and yet I knew if I told him that he would deny it. Nothing about it made sense to me in the same way it did to him.

“Th-tha… th-th-thank you,” I said, voice struggling to form a single word through my sobs. “Th-th-than… thank y-y-y-ou, I… I-I-Iro… Iron–”

“Just let it out,” he said. “You don’t need to say a thing.”

I did, by Celestia I did. Ironsight just held me close, letting my emotions do what they had to do. The tears felt endless, even as my sobs eased into something quieter. My face finally found an expression worth keeping, the ends of my muzzle turning up ever so slightly. When the tears finally stopped, I found the strength to pull away all on my own. It was possibly the strongest I had ever felt.

“Th-thanks, seriously. I… I don’t know what to say,” I said, looking back to the box containing my radio.

“You don’t need to say anything,” Ironsight’s dad replied. He and his wife had trotted over to me at some point while I was crying, and he had extended his wing out to my back in comfort. “Enjoy this gift, that’s all any of us are asking you.”

My smile grew ever so slightly bigger as I nodded. I was going to do just that, right as soon as I got home. Nothing dad said was going to stop me.

I looked mom up and down, taking in what had become of her as we sat on __ waterfront. Every once in a while I looked behind us to the little community she called __, the place she had disappeared to all those years ago. It was filled with those just like us, who the gluttonous one had gotten their hooves on. The only ponies who weren’t infected were my friends… and Hearty.

“So, how much longer?” I asked.

The look of pain on her face as the question left my lips. Even when the urge had hit her hardest in my younger years, she kept a smile. Didn’t matter to my foal-self if it was real or not; seeing that smile, hearing her voice, it made me forget about my own troubles. Now the smile was gone. It felt as wrong as the state of her body.

Even without needing to say a single word, I knew what that meant. Still, silence was not a concrete answer. I didn’t care how accurate it was, just knowing how long we still had together was all that mattered. Like a young foal, I clung to her foreleg and gazed up at her with all the innocence I still had. A piece of me felt terrible, manipulating my own mother like this, but it felt like the only way.

At the very least, no spell was needed. The expression was all that I needed here.

“I… I don’t entirely know,” she said as she wrapped her foreleg around me. “Less than a year, perhaps less than half a year.”

My ears flattened, head lowering down onto her lap as the answer settled in my head. She was lying, somehow I was certain of it. With the way her body had been transfigured to be nearly unrecognizable, it wasn’t hard to imagine that one more slip up was all it would take. One more taste of pony flesh, and giving in would be something she wouldn’t come back from.

“I don’t want you to go,” I told her. “It took so long to find you and the thought of losing you….”

Mom sighed, her hoof stroking my mane. “It’s scary, I know. Most of us would go to the infinite when we die, but you and I? There won’t be anything for the infinite to take. Oblivion awaits us, and while it isn’t what I wanted I’ve… made peace with the idea.”

“But you shouldn’t need to. You deserve so much better than that,” I replied, tears welling up in my eyes. “You're amazing, and wonderful, and so much better than ponies think you are. The thought that you don’t get a happy ending–”

“I already had my happy ending, __,” she said, lowering her down so she could better look me in the eyes. She did everything in her power to smile at me, even as the shape of her body did everything in its power to try and turn into something more feral. “I met your dad and had you. Those were the happiest days of my life. Now, you are living yours, with Joy, Willow, and your other friends.”

I nestled my muzzle between her hindlegs in fear. “That isn’t a happy ending mom. Isn’t a happy ending supposed to be a full life? A painless death? Meeting your loved ones in the afterlife and all that?”

She stopped stroking me, hoof close to my withers, unmoving. I blinked at the sudden stop in motion, tilting my head so that I was looking into her eyes. A fake smile tried to hide pure terror, but she had put it up too late. Every single piece of her fear had already graced my vision.

She knew her words were a lie; she was facing horrible pain from a hunger that couldn’t be quenched, and it grew stronger and stronger by the second. What she claimed as death was anything but, her body still moving and her mind still functioning, even if it was on a twisted, more basic level. The only piece of herself that was dying was her soul, the very thing that made mom… mom. For it to not be her fate, but mine too?

No wonder she was scared.

“I… I can ask my friends and Hearty to put us down when we are gone,” I said. The offer made a part of me sick, but somehow it still felt better than any alternative. “They’re really good at killing. Willow was raised to do it, Joy has saved my ass more than a hopeful of times, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen Heart miss. I’d prefer for all of you to take a rest, mom, not just your soul.”

Her mouth fell open, making sounds but not much else. Mom closed her eyes, her forelegs keeping me from escaping her, and her nose sniffling. Tears ran down her cheeks as much as they were currently running down mine, soft cries filling in for words. They weren’t needed, not when our shared pain did every bit of talking that anypony could ask for. That, and our solidarity, was all we needed as a clock echoed out in my head.

Two clocks, actually. One was far closer to striking midnight than the other, and for once it wasn’t my own.

“Hey, sis!”

The commanding voice nearly caused me to freeze before registering exactly who it was. Leaning over to look past my mom’s neck and mane, I found my eyes meeting with a magenta pegasus, her mane a blue so dark it could fool most into thinking it was black. Any sense of soldier-ness left her as she looked at my mom and I, ears folding back in sympathy.

“Sorry, didn’t realize,” they said, taking a step back. “I can… I can wait.”

“It’s… it’s okay,” mom replied, briefly turning back to look at the pegasus. She couldn’t hide the tears, but I don’t think she didn’t want to. “You’re Star Chart, right? The step-sister __ mentioned earlier.”

“Y-yep. That’s me,” Starry replied. My step-sister and I met eyes for a moment, before she started to trot slowly towards us. “And your __’s mother. I’ll admit, when I heard you were a zebra I thought you would be a bit more… normal.”

Mom didn’t exactly seem sure how to take those words at first, but she ended up chuckling at Starry’s words. I gave my step-sister a look, one that simply said ‘really?’ in hopes that she would understand the insensitivity of her words. The look she gave me in turn could best be described as blank, that poor brain of hers probably didn’t get what I was trying to explain. Letting out my own snort of amusement, albeit at Starry’s face instead of her words, I lifted myself out of my moms lap and focused completely on her.

“You called?” I said, after letting her stand there confused for at least a minute or two.

She blinked, shook her head, and then smiled at me. “Stitches says she got that device of hers complete. Wanted to see you try it on.”

“Iron Iron Iron!”

The height at which he jumped from my words and sudden barging in, it had to have been the most startled I had ever seen him. In literally any other circumstances, I might have been worried about doing such a thing to a CO, but my brain was not working well. Like a scared foal, I stampeded into his office, slammed my hooves onto the top of his desk, and craned my neck down at him.

“Iron, I need your help. This stallion, he–”

My brain paused as soon as I saw my friend and higher up was lying on the back of his chair, which apparently fell down when I had barged in. To say he looked unamused would be an understatement; I’m certain I’d be having my pay docked, and possibly have a few out-of-the-blue shifts added to my schedule. With a sheepish laugh, I circled the table and reached a hoof out to him.

“Sorry, Iron– I mean, sir. Sorry sir,” I said as he grabbed my hoof.

I pulled him back up instantly, eyes darting from his own and to the desk in shame. He did a brief stretch of his back and wings, an annoyed grunt passing through gritted teeth as he did. When it ended, his gaze fell on me, a mixture of disappointment and amusement gracing his features.

“Fucks sake __, what in Tartarus got into you?” he asked me.

I swallowed a lump in my throat, straightening my posture and doing everything in my power to show some semblance of humility and respect. “Apologies sir. I can’t really explain what got into me.”

“Well that isn’t going to do, is it?” he replied, turning away and standing his chair back up. He motioned for me to move to the opposite side of the desk as he sat down, an order I followed without delay. He closed his eyes, his wings messaging both sides of his temple. “We’ll talk about what you just did in a moment. I haven’t seen you act like that in a few years now, not since….”

I felt my gut twist, knowing exactly what manner of event he was talking about. A grimace took over my features, Ironsight’s eyes going wide as he saw them.

“__, did he–”

“No! No,” I said, shaking the grimace off my face and replacing it with something colder, stoic. “He hasn’t shown his face in some time, thank goodness. I’m here for something else.”

He let out a sigh of relief, his back resting against the chair. “Thank the winds. What’s the issue then?”

“Well, this stallion came to talk to me at the mess hall earlier today,” I explained. As soon as I finished that sentence, Ironsight’s look grew far more defensive. Eyes barely visible, a frown on his face, he was prepared for the absolute worst. I quickly shook a hoof in front of me. “H-he did nothing bad. At least, I don’t think so? He just asked me if I wanted to go to this place and it made me feel… I’m not sure how to describe it.”

Even saying that much brought the feeling back tenfold, my heart beating wonderfully fast and my cheeks forcing my muzzle into a smile. My stomach felt like it was stuffed with butterflies, and for some fucking reason the sight of the stallion’s face wouldn’t leave my mind. I brought a hoof to my chest, getting lost in the unknown feeling. For all of its strangeness, it might just be the most pleasant feeling I ever held in my entire life. All given to me by some pegasus I knew absolutely nothing about.

I opened my eyes, realizing I had been silent for around half a minute. Of all the things I expected when I looked at Ironsight, watching him go from disgust at a pony he didn’t even know to stupefied beyond belief was not one of them. I blinked, the strange but pleasant feeling subsided slightly so that concern could peek through. Usually it was me wearing that expression, not him.

“Ironsight, are you okay?” I asked.

My words did wake him up from whatever spell I had managed to cast. He cleared his throat, put on a stoic face, and focused his attention back on me.

“Completely fine, just a bit surprised,” Ironsight said. A smile was threatening his face, but he somehow managed to keep it down and his professionalism up. “I’m not entirely sure what you are here for so far. Did something happen afterwards?”

“N-no. It’s… well,” I focused on that strange, pleasant feeling I had in my chest, as if drawing on it for strength, “I wanted to ask you what I might be feeling. Not as my superior, obviously, but as my friend.”

Just like that, all professionalism fell off his face to be replaced by an adorable, goofy smile. There were tiny little movements in his body, ones I recognized as him holding in the urge to laugh at something. I tilted my head, raising one side of my brow as I tried to determine exactly what it is he found funny. Did he not realize that my question was entirely serious?

“Sorry, __, sorry. I guess it makes sense since you wouldn’t completely understand what you are feeling but ....”

Ironsight rose from his chair, circled his desk, and suddenly wrapped a hoof around my head. In surprise, I let out a small yelp and tried to free myself, but his grasp was a bit too strong to get out of. His free hoof ruffled my mane to the point that it was now a mess, the slight amount of work I spent keeping it in line completely destroyed. By the time he let me go, I was well beyond frustrated with the stallion before me.

Unfortunately, I was more than aware that he was one of the only ponies who saw me being angry as a thing to not be afraid of. Years of basically being an older brother to me had led him to view it more as a pout more than anything. That was the case here as well, the goofy smile still on his face and a hoof rubbing his withers. It was all I was going to get from in terms of an apology.

“First things first,” he said, that same hoof booping the air in front of him, “what did you say? Can I assume it was….”

A crumb of confusion found its way into my frustration at his words. “I mean, yeah! I said the feeling was strange, not bad.”

Thinking about that feeling, it was all my brain needed to completely forget about my anger. The way it bubbled up, crushing any negative emotion that stood in its path, filling my body with warmth. What was this feeling? Why did that stallion make me feel this way, and why had it been so much harder to speak with him than literally any other of my fellow soldiers? So much of me didn’t care, wanting to feel it again and again. The naive little filly still deep inside me, however, was far too curious to let the question go.

“Why does he make me feel so… happy?!” I asked, more to myself than to the stallion before me.

“You really don’t know?” Ironsight questioned back. I nodded absentmindedly, too focused on soaking in every little bit of what I felt to care about what he was asking me. “__, that is love!”

A stood there for a moment, my brain not immediately registering the words that came from his muzzle. Then, slowly, like an errant cloud going across the sky, it sank in more… and more… until my brow rose up high and my jaw ever-so-slightly dropped. I blinked once, twice, thrice, trying to grip the sheer idea that Ironsight had just laid before me. To top it all off, I felt my face suddenly feel a lot hotter – for lack of a better term – than it had been before.

Despite standing completely still, I somehow nearly lost balance and collapsed as soon as I realized the full meaning behind his words. Love, I was feeling love. Not the kind a friend felt for a friend, the one a pegasus had for the Enclave, or the kind associated with a really good story or song. This was romantic love, towards a pony who I had seen, but hadn’t really talked to until today. A stallion that had a really lovely voice, pretty nice on first impression, a great mane-style, pretty nice on first impression… a great flank… gorgeous eyes… and that wingspan of his was just… just….

A snicker woke me up from my love-induced daydream. Ironsight had covered his face with a wing, the sounds he was making behind it not at all muffled by his feathers. Sweet Celestia was I glad that my coat hid blushes well because the level of embarrassment I was feeling was unmatched.

“I-Ironsight!” I shouted. I wanted so badly to sound angry, but the aforementioned embarrassment had found its way into my voice as well.

“Sorry. Sorry,” he said, though judging by the continual laughter present in his voice he certainly didn’t sound sorry. His wing went back to his side, face practically beaming as he locked eyes with me. “So, what’s his name? Come on, I told you about my crush, you have to tell me yours.”

“I, uh, well, his name was, uh…,” I looked away, unsure that my coat color was actually hiding the red in my face anymore. “I-it’s… Iron. Iron Anchor. He’s a cloudship pilot.”

Oh Tartarus the smug smile that put on his face. As a hoof went to rub at the underside of his muzzle, I already knew mentioning it was a mistake.

“Iron, is it?” Ironsight asked. Despite everything in me saying to not do anything, my body automatically nodded. “Well, I know I’ve made an impression, but I didn’t think somepony having such a similar name would–”

“Shut!”

Before he could finish, I started bopping him on the head with my wing. It wasn’t harsh – I didn’t actually want to hurt him after all – but it felt like the best and most appropriate way to show how I felt at that moment. Was it foalish? Definitely, but at some point a pony reaches such a high level of embarrassment that acting foalish is a non-concern. All he did was chuckle, a fact that made a groan more than happy to escape.

Yet even that little show of being upset was completely fake. Once again my mind turned to the crazy fact that I had somehow fallen for somepony. I started pacing back and forth, Ironsight watching with a coy look on his face.

“Wait. I-if I’m in love, a-a-and he asked me out. That’s… that is a–” the words got caught in my throat, so I looked to Ironsight to make sure I was correct. He gave a nod, and I swallowed before starting to pace again. “A date. H-h-h-he asked me on a date. Am I ready for one? I mean, it would be rude of me to back out but what if this ends up going bad? What if this feeling is incorrect? What if–”

“__!”

The sound of my name causes me to stop in my tracks, head snapping to Ironsight as if switching form one hostile grounder to another. The smile on his face had softened greatly, no longer carrying this cocky aura to it. It was more laid back, gentle, and every bit more comforting than what he had adorned before. He knew that this was the moment to stop teasing me as a friend and console instead, something he was no doubt way to use to from years of dealing with me.

He placed a wing on my back and a hoof around my withers. He gently nudged me to close in. There was no reason for him to, I felt so small at the moment and his comfort meant the world.

“Listen, he hasn’t done anything to harm you, right?” He asked. “Nothing verbal or physical, just polite.”

“Y-y-yeah,” I answered, one of my hooves rubbing against my upper foreleg. “He said just as scared as me.”

“And you clearly like him, so don’t worry about the ‘what ifs’ right now. I’m happy for you, and I think it's at least worth giving him a try,” he said. His wing patted me a few times. “If things don’t work out, that’s okay; if they do, wonderful! And if you would like a third wheel to keep you calm during this first time…”

Having calmed down significantly from his words, I rolled my eyes. “Y-you just want to look at the h-h-h-hot stallion that made me feel like this.”

“Guilty, but you know I can control myself,” he said, taking his hoof off my withers and poking my chest with it. “So? How does that sound?”

Even knowing about his silly little ulterior motive, straight up saying ‘no’ to him wasn’t the first thing that came to mind. I’ve known Ironsight for years, and I know he wasn’t joking about controlling himself. He meant every word, and he fully expected me to reprimand him if he got out of hoof. Maybe not that harshly, considering he was still my closest friend, but enough to drill it into his brain that Iron wasn’t his… probably.

“I’ll consider it,” I replied, though judging by the smile we were flashing at each other, it was basically a yes. With one last playful shove from me, and then one in retaliation from him, I wrapped both forelegs and wings around him. “Thanks for hearing me out, and not being a complete ass about this.”

He giggled and returned the hug. “Anytime __.”

“…”

“…”

“Hey. you there?”

“…huh?”

“Oh thank Celestia. You had me worried.”

“Who… your voice sounds familiar.”

“Of course it does, because I was the one who put us in this predicament.”

“...”

“Wait, no, that was you, right?”

“I don’t know. All these memories, they don’t make any sense.”

“You see them as well?”

“Of course! They are my memories after all. At least, I think they are. Some don’t fit.”

“Of course they don’t.”

“Huh?”

“They don’t just belong to one pony, I mean. I think… I think these memories are from both of us.”

“What? How?”

“It’s the memory spell. The one you… I… one of us cast on each other. I can’t tell who exactly did it. Trying to recall memories, it hurts too much.”

“If that is the case, then that means we both are–”

“Singing Rhapsody and Dead Hooves, yes.”

“...”

“...!”

“Ah!”

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, it’s just… you’re right. It does hurt.”

“You didn’t just try to–”

“Of course I did! I want to know which of us is which! All these memories, jumbled up and battling with one another, I want it to end. My mind feels so chaotic.”

“It’s not just your mind. Mine is too. It’s all muddled together to the point I can’t tell who is who.”
“What do we do about this?”

“I-I don’t know. Not even Vigil completely understood it, if our memories serve correctly.”

“And if death itself has no idea what is going on…”

“Then what is happening to us?”

“Let’s… let's calm down for a moment. Take one thing at a time, try to figure shit out.”

“Y-yeah, that sounds good. First thing first then, where are we? I can’t see anything.”

“I think we are unconscious. Last thing I recall is Rhapso– Dead– the body falling unconscious.”

“The body?”

“The living pony who one of us killed… kind of. I can’t remember who was who, so that’s what I’m going to call them.”

“Sounds kind of rude, but since we can’t tell who is who, I guess we have no choice. Do we just do the same thing for the ghost?”

“Yeah. We’ll deal with the fact we are kind of insulting each other later.”

“So the body is unconscious. Yeah I remember that. Blood loss from a firefight.”

“We will be okay, right?”

“We have Sharpshot. Couldn’t ask to be in better hooves right now.”

“Heh, I guess that is true.”

“Though, if we are unconscious, then how are we talking? Is it that link between the ghost and the body doing this?”

“Only thing I can think of that makes any sort of sense. Though, with how muddled things are, I’m not sure if we are two different ponies anymore.”

“W-w-wait, what?”

“Think about it: our memories are fucked up beyond belief, and we can’t tell who is who. The body started casting spells, and is being affected by warding talismans just as much as – if not worse – then the ghost was. We only noticed the line blurring in the past day or two, but it must have been happening long before that.”

“And that means that, when we wake up, we won’t be Singing Rhapsody or Dead Hooves.”

“Unfortunately, yes.”

“...”

“...”

“I’m… I’m scared. Really scared.”

“Same here.”

“What about Gemini, or Anchor and the rest of the body’s family? What is Gold going to do to us when he finds out? What about the body’s mission?”

“Calm down. Panicking isn’t going to get us anywhere.”

“But–”

“Calm down!”

“... sorry.”

“It’s fine, I understand how you are feeling. Just, listen to me for a moment.”

“Okay, okay. You have a plan?”

“Not really, but I don’t think we will need that much of one to begin with. Look, we both clearly care about Anchor, Clear, Rainy, and Gemini.”

“Yeah.”

“Then nothing to worry about there. Even if one of us cares this much simply because of the body’s memories, that means we won’t let anything happen to them. Now, about that second question, you remember that Sharpshot is aware of Gold’s orders to kill, right?”

“Y-y-yeah.”

“Sharpshot, insufferable bastard he may be, isn’t going to let us die. Willow made that clear back in Trotson. We don’t have anything to worry about, not with him there.”

“And with us in agreement, there isn’t any reason to be scared. At least, not scared of any immediate problems. Everything else though…”

“We’ll deal with it when we they come along. Now, we are going to need a name.”

“A name? You mean we can’t just call ourselves Rhapsody or Dead Hooves?”

“You have as little idea of which one inhabited the body as I do. That and… something in me forbids using one of them.”

“If you say so. I… do have an idea for a name, if you will hear it.”

“I think I already know what you are going to choose.”

“That predictable, huh?”

“We share the same memories, as headache inducing and nonsensical as they are to us right now. I would be surprised if I couldn’t predict it.”

“Fair enough. Say it at the same time then?”

“Sure, why not. On three. One…”

“Two…”

“Three!”

“Danse Macabre”