Two weeks of planning.

Twelve restless nights.

Twenty-eight hours of back-breaking labor.

Gone. Reduced to atoms. All in the span of three seconds with zero forewarning.

Perhaps, had Twilight kept her mouth shut, Murphy would have waited an extra five or ten minutes before trying to send them to Jesus. And quite possibly, had she been a bit more careful—a wee bit more vigilant, she could have outright prevented this utter catastrophe from the get-go.

Instead, amidst the billowing plumes of smoke and fire deep-throating her, she could only stare listlessly at the carriage-sized fireball heading right for her.

*TWHACK*

Fortunately, Princess Celestia had vehemently stressed the importance of always having protection, even if she felt singled out when the princess wished everypony else in her graduating high school class a happy Mother’s Day. And this showed, as while her classmates were out partying, she studied the shield.

Unfortunately for everypony else in the dining hall, the kinetic force had to go somewhere.

*BOOM*

Sizzling, the air boiled like a zebra shaman’s cauldron over a roaring fire, and Twilight cried out as she felt the aftershock of the explosion buffeting against the pink translucent barrier. But just as quickly as it started, a curtain of smoke descended over the storm of debris and shrapnel dancing over the ruined fixtures and table arrangements like Pinkie Pie on a ketamine withdrawal.

The only solace she could find was that seemingly nopony important had died, but that was a small consolation prize. No spell could repair the gaping holes in the castle’s ceiling and walls in a timely manner, nor the burning crater in the marble floor directly underneath it. No incantation or ritual she knew of could transmute the flittering clumps of ash and dust back into party banners and seating arrangements.

And no amount of therapy could fix the final thread of Twilight’s sanity that had suddenly snapped like a rubber band. This, of course, had gone entirely unnoticed by the panicking throngs of servants and soldiers scrambling about the castle halls shouting in panic or barking orders.

“-tia’s name is going on? Are we under attack?”

“I need a sitrep now!”

“Come hither,we must contain the fire! Get the extinguishers and every able-bodied pony that can carry a bucket-”

“Twilight?!?”

“My leg! My leg!”

“Over here! The fire is spreading!”

A pungent, acrid stench wafted to Twilight’s nostrils, trailed by a creeping trail of flames. Despite the heat scalding her sooty and tangled fur, she didn’t move a single muscle as her mind flew off wild tangents. Not as the flames reached to embrace her. Not as something tugged at her tail and prodded her withers. Not even as a cacophony of voices rang out in her ears, which had sagged downward like inside-out pockets.

This has to be a dream! A nightmare! I’ll wake up any moment now!

Pain engulfed her tongue as she forcefully bit down, and to her utter dismay, she did not wake up in a cold sweat.

…Any moment now! Any moment now! None of this is real! I’m just… over-exhausted from all the stress! Yes, that's it. I didn’t just witness my carefully laid plans go up in smoke! No siree!

Flashes of indigo light and sparks crashed into the encroaching flames, driving them back to their source—a blackened, twisted thing almost entirely unrecognizable. Its misshapen form reached outward toward the rays of golden light that bled in through the Castle ceiling’s gaping wound.

Unburdened by the trappings of sanity and reason, Twilight took a tentative step toward the molten wreckage that had enthralled her little pony mind. And then another…

“But Princess, I can help!”

“Nay! Stay thy rash flight! Thou art not based!”

Loose pebbles and debris crunched under her hooves. Voices blended into incomprehensible white noise. Flames and burning embers licked at her hooves.

“Based? Based on what?”

“We will explain later! Now go! We will get her to-”

Was she enthralled? Was she under a spell? She hadn’t even flinched when Luna suddenly collapsed. Twilight paid no heed to the falling debris despite everything going to Tartarus in a handbasket. Plod. Crunch. Plod.

“Mare down! The Princess was hit by falling debris!”

“Shields at the ready! Get her highness to safety!”

“-is Twilight doing? Twilight!?!”

She halted just out of reach of the burning husk and its searing flames and inhaled deeply. Under any other circumstance, she would have long since fled the blazing inferno that had begun to embrace her. But that version of Twilight had a future to look forward to—a future devoid of magic kindergarten and social ostracization for failing to account for something so incredibly… obvious.

The Summer Sun Celebration, Shining’s and Cadence’s wedding, the Endless Amusements and Thrills Autumn Seasonal Sizzler… Nightmare Moon, Queen Chrysalis, Harambe the Headhunter—there’s always a villain, and there's always some link. This isn’t some accident.

“Good heavens, Twilight!”

The neurotic sperg hadn’t noticed the flames recoiling from her presence or the lightish red waves of her magic cascading across the room. And if she spotted the smattering of brave mares, stallions, and foals above the age of seven seizing the initiative against the fire, she didn’t show it.

Instead, amidst the burning rubble and ash, Twilight remained still.

And then it was over.

Tiny specks of grey and black continued to drift gently across the ruined ballroom like morose snowflakes, but the fires had all been contained.

All, save for one.

Twilight didn’t react as hooves snaked across her barrel before dragging her away from the blackened, twisted thing. Nor did she make a sound as a pair of concerned blue eyes met hers.

“Twilight, darling? Are you alright?” Rarity said nervously. Apart from the soot stains on her white coat, the mare hadn’t looked any worse for wear than before the disaster, accounting for finishing up plans for the party just a few rooms away. “You, ah, gave us quite the scare for a moment.”

Twilight’s eyes bore a hole through a concerned expression on Rarity’s muzzle and toward the burning hulk of twisted metal behind her.

“Uh, Rares? Might want to give her some space.” Rainbow Dash gently nudged Rarity’s shoulder with a wing. “You know how she gets when she… you know? Goes cuckoo-”

“She needs us! And just as well, you know exactly what will happen if we leave her out to dry in her time of need again.”

“But that was different! How were we supposed to know that shapeshifting bug ponies actually existed outside of a Power Ponies comic?”

“...A quarter of the castle was just demolished, Princess Luna is currently out of commission, and all of Canterlot is in pandemonium right now.”

“Touche.”

Rarity grimaced as she turned toward Twilight again. “Twilight? Please answer me? You look worse than I feel right now, and that’s no small feat if I do say so myself.”

“She isn’t kidding, Twi.” Rainbow shared Rarity’s uneasy look as she took a step forward. “Harambe did less of a number on you the last time we fought him, and that’s including after he punted you halfway across New Mareleans.”

Twilight tilted her head with a sickening, bone-crunching sound.

Harambe. Harambe. Harambe. The name bounced inside her skull harder than a baby during a kinetic-induced miscarriage. It was a plausible lead: the gorilla was far more prone to using guerilla tactics instead of fighting protracted battles. However, it wasn’t until he strapped a 120mm autocannon to a building-sized trashcan that he openly challenged Princess Celestia’s legitimacy to the throne.

The aftermath of that battle was still being felt by the average taxpayer.

But that isn’t possible. We banished him with Starswirl’s portal spell, and the only way back to Equestria is through the closely guarded mirror. Twilight mused. So, who did this? Who could have ki-

“Twilight?” Spike said softly from behind her. “Please snap out of whatever this is; we just want to help you.”

She didn’t move a muscle as Rainbow waved a hoof a few inches from her face, and her eyes seemed to stare through the prismatic-maned pegasus as if she wasn’t even there.

“I-I think I know what’s going on,” Rainbow hesitated. “I’ve seen Applejack with this same look every time somepony brings up taxes or her ma and pa around her. She just gets this thousand-yard stare and clams up until you poke her hard enough.”

“Well, I don’t think poking her seems to be having much effect,” Rarity sighed as she gestured toward Spike. Slowly, her eyes began to trail behind Twilight’s gaze as she turned. “But I just don’t have the faintest idea of how to help her, or what even is…”

The thick haze of fire and smog had long since disappeared, revealing the smoldering silhouette of the wreckage that had left Twilight shell-shocked. Its blackened, twisted frame would have hardly gleaned more than a second glance at a garbage dump, but the faded chips of rusted grey paint were enough to make the collective hearts of each pony and dragon stop.

“Mr… Mr. Belikov?” Spike whispered.

“I can’t believe I wasted all that time!” Twilight’s ears twitched rapidly. Even now, she could hear the ceaseless rattling away inside her skull—which was both everywhere and nowhere to be found. But deep down, she knew the shimmering sun above counted the seconds for the Princess's wavering patience. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. “I should have just come here first. Fluttershy always has some fear she’s trying to get over. And as a good friend, I’ll be right there to help her.”

The roaring cry of a beast halted her in her tracks.

“What? How can this be happening? Of all the days that Flutter-auugh!” Her tired legs carried her off into a bramble of bushes and trees, which she barreled through with reckless abandon. The bear was easy enough to spot through the thicket of leaves as she stepped into the clearing, but she did not see a single hide or hair of her shy pegasus friend.

Mr. Belikov’s air refueling probe deftly caressed the left shoulder of the exhausted bear with an elegance that was unmatched even by the Aloe sisters or the most proficient of unicorns. “No worries, all is fine.”

Twilight fidgeted in place. Tick. Tock. Her front legs tapped to the ticking clock’s tune, yet she couldn’t bring herself to interfere with Fluttershy’s strange new visitor. They had been nothing short of a good guest during their three-month-long stay in Ponyville, but Twilight had kept her distance after their rather poor first encounter.

“So why do you visit comrade Fluttershy’s house, eh?”

Twilight bit her lip. She had always kept her distance, and Mr. Belikov had never once made any overt gestures to bridge the gap himself. So why acknowledge her presence now? Unless he’s just being kind for Fluttershy’s sake…

“Apologies, little pony.” Mr. Belikov continued his careful ministrations, which elected a small groan of satisfaction from the bear. “You seem wound up like ball of string, what makes you so… eh what’s the word, ‘nervous’? Yes, that’s it. What makes you nervous now?”

“I, Uhh…” Twilight hesitated, her gaze gluing to her hooves beneath her. He had kept her distance from her after that fateful day, and apart from a remark on “poor bedside manners,” this was the first time in weeks that he had uttered more than a few syllables. Some part of her wanted to twist her way out of this encounter and find Fluttershy, but she could still hear the clocks. Tick. Tock.

Her mouth moved before she could even think to stop it. Her friendship letters, the stresses and expectations from being Celestia’s student, everything.

“-It’ll be all over! My time in Ponyville! My friendships! My advanced studies! She’ll send me back to magic kindergarten, and I’ll never have time to see them again!”

Silence fell upon Twlight’s captive audience as she dry heaved.

There wasn’t any immediate switch in the SU-57’s posture apart from the bear’s changed position—on its back as the plane’s air refueling probe gently rubbed circles on its stomach. But after a few more agonizing moments, Mr. Belikov’s rear fins swiveled like a pony’s ears.

“This… Princess, you think highly of her, yes?” Mr. Belikov said as he slowly reversed and turned his squeaking wheels to face her. “She is kind and benevolent ruler?”

“What? Of course I do! She is the kindest, most caring pony to ever exist on the face of Equus! And everything she does is for the good of ponykind!” Twilight neighed loudly in shock, her two forehooves lifting into the air spastically.

“Then tell me, little pony,” Mr. Belikov’s levcons bobbed, “why would Princess send you to gulag over paperwork? You are hero, legend! Da? .”

“Because I failed to solve a friendship problem, and it’s getting closer t- guahhh!” Twilight fell onto her haunches in a cloud of dust before whimpering in fear. “It’s only a few hours before sundown! And I still haven’t sent a single letter to Princess Celestia!”

“If she is as good a person as you say, then you have no worries..”

“What are you saying? I’ll be failing her! She won't trust me with anything ever again if I can’t even do something as simple as this!”

“I speak from experience…” There was pain in his voice. Pain, mixed with a twinge of wistfulness and nostalgia. “I had no love for our ‘glorious leader’ or the other useless butchers in power. We tried to shout them out, but we were too quiet, and the vodka too tempting. Too many good comrades shrugged or bowed to that bastard Stalin. If this Celestia is willing to throw you away after things you did for her. Then I will make one last flight, one that everyone shall remember, because she would be no better than Stalin, and I won’t be quiet again.”

Mr. Belikov paused. “Tell her truth. You will be fine.”

“But what if you’re right? What if she is as terrible as you say? I can’t do anything to stop her.” Twilight’s ears flattened to the sides of her head.

“Not alone, no,” Mr. Belikov said. “But you weren’t alone when you faced moon princess, eh?”

Despite the anxiety pressing down on her chest, she couldn’t deny the truth of his words. She stopped Nightmare Moon and thwarted Discord; why was she so worried about a letter? Had she been putting her mentor on such a high pedestal this whole time? Or had she buried the reason deep into the recesses of her mind? If the princess could banish her own sister for a thousand years, what would she do to a pony that didn’t toe the line?

No. She knew Princess Celestia. She had seen the kindness of her mentor on full display every day during her time under her tutelage. It wasn’t a trick that she kept up for public appearances. There was no mask for her to slip out of behind closed doors. Prin- Celestia was a good pony. And perhaps… perhaps it was time to show Celestia how much her most faithful student had grown.

Twilight smiled faintly.

…

Later that night, Twilight could only marvel at how “big” Princess Celestia was as the consequences of her actions rammed into her unlubed.

“MEDIC!”

The prismatic aftertrail chased the shrill voice toward the impact zone, followed by a mob of armored ponies armed with extinguishers and medical bags. Twilight felt no need to follow them and knew their efforts were already in vain; no amount of Rainbow’s experience in oral-related recreational activities or the guards' training in combat field surgery would matter.

But her mouth refused to open. Her legs refused to move. Her eyes refused to blink.

“Breathe! Please!” Rainbow pleaded between gasps for air, her mouth sucking and blowing at the external power panel just below the wreckage’s cockpit. “You promised us! You promised you wouldn’t… no, no, no!”

“Stand back! Clear!” Shock. Once. Twice. Three times. The burnt-out husk remained limp. “Again! Clear!”

“You!” Rarity turned, pointing her hoof to the closest guard.“Get him out of here to someplace safe this instant!”

“Yes, ma’am.” The burly grey guard stallion quietly saluted before stepping toward her. Twilight’s eyes began to water, but she couldn’t blink.

“Rarity?”

“Listen to me, Spike,” Rarity said, faltering. “Please go with the nice guard here, and I promise I’ll give you the nicest ruby gem ice cream when we get back to Ponyville, ok? Can you do that for me?”

“Please don’t leave us.”

“I’m not going anywhere, Spike.” Rarity blinked her stinging eyes. “But I need to check up on Rainbow and… Mr. Belikov first. He-he’s v-very sick right now, and I don’t want you to catch anything.”

“Clear!”

“Can we visit him? When he gets better?”

“I… of course, Spike.” Rarity kissed him gently on the forehead. “When he gets better.”

Spike stared a hole into the ground between his feet. “...Promise?”

“Stick a cupcake in my eye.”

“Princess?”

Trapped. Twilight was still trapped. In her own mind? In a nightmare? No, the stinging pain in her eyes was proof otherwise. This was real. Somepony had killed her friend. And even worse, somepony had ruined Celestia’s birthday party.

“What are your orders?” A second guard had emerged through the throng of guard ponies and servants, and she could see the fear in their bright cyan eyes as they stopped just a few hooves away. Grimacing, the guard stallion gulped before speaking. “Do you require medical attention?”

Twilight’s right eye twitched.

“Come on, little guy. Lets-”

“-over ninety-five percent of his body. We’d need a miracle to-”

“There has to be something we can do! We can’t just-”

“Rainbow dear, there’s nothing we can do!”

“Like hay, there isn’t! There has to be some spell! O-or we can use the elements!”

“Are you even listening to yourself? Even if Pinkie wasn’t recovering from that dreadful ketamine overdose and Fluttershy wasn’t down in Ponyville…”

“Oh my gosh! Fluttershy was supposed to be watching him today! Why was Mr. Belikov all the way out here?!?”

“I’m calling it! Eleven Fifty-Seven a.m.”

Silence reigned.

It felt like an eternity; nopony dared to breathe as the truth settled in. To the medic pony’s credit, he didn’t waver in his posture or crack as every eye in the room gazed at him. The medic breathed deeply before putting the final chunk of rotting flesh in the Mobik Cube. “He’s gone.”

Twilight blinked.

Something was bubbling up inside her chest, swelling. She tried to breathe, but only a wheeze escaped her muzzle. But just as she began to blink the stinging tears out of her eyes, Rainbow had already beaten her to the punch with a strangled sob of her own.

There were no words to describe it. Twilight had no actual frame of reference to the disgusting, ugly noise coming from her friend. She had seen Rainbow cry, of course, and had always been there for her whenever she needed a shoulder, but this? It was guttural. Unnatural.

“Dave from accounting…”

“That boy ain’t right,” Applejack said thickly. “He’s nothin’ but trouble. Ah can feel it in ma bones.”

“Applejack, do we really need a repeat of what happened last time with Zecora?” Twilight replied exacerbatedly. “Just because he’s got a bit of an accent and looks a bit weird doesn’t mean we need to run him out of town.”

“That was different! I let my pride and prejudice color my judgment then, and I’ve already apologized a half dozen times to Zecora for it.”

“So, how are things different now? Are you afraid he’s going to steal our jobs and mares?”

“Naw, I’m afraid he’s gonna steal my hard-earned bits in some convoluted ponzi scheme,” Applejack spat. “He’s as smarmy as them Flim Flam brothers, and all he’s missing is a matchin’ red mane to cover his naked shame!”

“Don’t you think you’re being a bit too harsh? Dave’s going into a lot of trouble to help you guys with your financial troubles…”

“Twi, he’s an accountant. The only thing settin’ him apart from guys like Tirek and buckin’ lawyers is that he’s good with his numbers. And ‘sides, it don’t help much that he looks like a shaven ape cursed with sobriety.”

Twilight wheezed again.

Humanoid. No magic, claws, hooves, or fangs—Lacking one of these traits was uncommon for most animals and creatures in Equestria and beyond. Dave had none of these things, and on top of all that, he was bald. Completely and utterly.

Her spine tingled, and Twilight couldn’t tell if it was from her sudden deduction or from the strangled, ugly cry from Rarity that joined Rainbow’s solo performance. Perhaps it was both.

But to what end? Dave had always been terse at best with Mr. Belikov, and he certainly showed his disdain for him nearly every chance he got, but that didn’t give him a clear motive to commit murder? Did it?

There was a special place in Tartarus for people who broke Twilight’s number one rule. A dark, cramped place reserved for Canadians and ponies who talk loudly in her library during business hours. It was by pure luck of the draw that the reviled maple syrup did not curse Dave’s forefathers and future progeny.

It was by pure brazen defiance that he broke the latter.

“Oi, wot's dis zoggin’ mess on me desk? Dese ledgers look like a squig chewed on 'em! Da numbas don't add up, da columns are all over da place, and dere's teef missin'! Ya call dis proper werk? More like a grots' dungheap!” Books in the adjacent room fell from their shelves into clumping heaps as Dave from accounting screamed through gnashing teeth.

The spell on Twilight’s horn fizzled out at the human’s brazen display. Who was this bald ape to scream at his student in such a manner? At this time of day, in this part of the country, localized entirely within her kitchen?

“I am trying, comrade, but engineers made my systems with vodka and dreams, not brainy bits.”

Mr. Belikov’s pleas fell on deaf ears, and if Twilight had to guess, it was due to chronic Tinnitus.

“Ya better get back 'ere an' fix dis right now, or else I'll be turnin' ya into a shoota meself! Ya hear me? Shoota! An' I ain't talkin' no fancy shoota neither, just some proper krumpin’ one ta remind everyone wot 'appens when dey mess wiv me numbas! Now git to it, ya useless grot!"

It started with a snort.

The noise had escaped her lungs and passed her dried-out mouth. And like a dying dream, it melted into the cascading sorrow that had washed over the ash and rubble.

The giggle that came after silenced the voices.

All eyes in the room were on her as the giggle turned into maniacal hysterics. Her voice scratched against the raw scars of her throat, and her hyena-like laughter sent chills down her spine.

But she didn’t care.

Couldn’t care.

“T-th-” Tears rolled down Twilight’s soot-stained cheeks. It was a good pain. She understood now, even if they didn’t. “Tehe! He-haha hahaha!”

Some ponies stood utterly still, holding their breaths in the vain hope that the mad alicorn’s gaze wouldn’t cross over them. Others inched toward the door, their hooves scraping against the scattered rocks and grime as they tried to escape the ticking time bomb. A few brave souls, however, inched closer to her.

“The damned bastard ruined it,” Twilight growled.

Her words took the sails out from Rarity, who had been one of the few present to have balls of steel. Unfortunately for her, she had ordered her pair off TEMU. “...Twilight?”

“Don’t you see?” Twilight spun three hundred and sixty-five degrees to face her. “Princess Celestia’s party! Our token Eastern European! He walked all over it with his dirty boots! Over the CRISP WHITE SHEETS OF THE BED I HAD JUST MADE!”

“Who, darling?” Rarity hesitated, her eyes darting behind Twilight and toward the exit. Despite the surmounting tensions, Rainbow’s sobs blended into the background as white noise, keeping her on edge even further. “Who ruined your… crisp white sheets?”

“The accountant! Who else? Who else could have tampered with such crude and dangerous technology? Who else could have fit in that cockpit?”

Stone and marble crunched underneath Twilight’s singed hooves as she nickered and neighed in frustration. The pupils of her eyes had enlarged, twitching all the while as her glare fell upon the downed plane and the few field surgeons who still crowded it.

Half of them fainted on the spot.

The one who had called Mr. Belikov’s death was not so lucky. The purple abomination had already wrapped one of her wings around his pink-furred chin snoot, which smooshed against Twilight’s purple muzzle.

“You! What was the cause of his death?”

“Princess, I-” The smol lightish-red pegasus bit his lip as he flailed in place. Death and taxes were the only things he could see in the dark pupils of the alicorn’s eyes. And he knew far too well that she could enact taxation without anypony’s representation. “It- it was external factors, Princess. Mr. Belikov’s frame must have suffered from adverse aerodynamic forces far exceeding the plane’s lackluster design limitations.”

Noticing that he wasn’t reduced to a red mist or, Celestia forbid, turned into a flying orange, the medic pony continued. “By my estimate, the vertical stabilizer and rear fuselage were separated mid flight, followed by rapid decompression as the wing structures and engine components separated from the main body. But regardless, the fatigue in the pl- Mr. Belikov’s airframe was due to stress fractures and…”

He gulped.

Twilight’s horn flared up with a deep pink glow.

“...lack of bitches..”

Two more ponies fell—a guard stallion and a maid, deader than a doornail and Princess Luna’s love life. Twilight didn’t bat an eye. They were only background ponies, after all. They weren’t special, not like Mr. Belikov was.

The sonic boom that exploded right after did, however. The room flashed a stark white, and it wasn’t until Twilight blinked the stars out of her eyes that she noticed a quickly disappearing prismatic dot in the horizon racing toward the direction of Ponyville.

Twilight craned her neck with another sickening snap toward the medic squirming in her vice-like grip like an eel.

“You lie, you sussy stallion!” Twilight said calmly.

“But it’s true! Just see for yourself!” The sussy stallion shivered, his forehooves gesturing wildly toward Mr. Belikov’s remains like a mime having a stroke. “Do you see it? Do you see how much Reddit karma he has farmed on his seventy-two alternate accounts! The things he’s posted on his Telegram? And let's not forget the Sears Catalogue hidden under the seat in the cockpit!”

Twilight snorted autistically before suplexing him into the ceiling.

“I want every available guard out in force. Search in every alleyway, inside every dumpster, and under every root and stem of the Everfree until we rip the disgustingly dirty boots off of this degenerate.”

"Thy resolve is most commendable, yet thou must curb thy bloodlust.” Luna’s looming shadow cast above Twilight and the other ponies in the room. The freshly applied gauze and bandages wrapped around the sides of her chest and withers did little to hamper her divinely regal presence, and everypony present bowed deeply. All, save for Twilight. “There be those in need who must first be tended to."

“Neiiggh!” Twilight neighed. “We must stop him now before he slinks off to Celestia knows where!”

“But at what cost? Our citizens remain panicked and afraid, and there are still those under threat by this miscreant’s vile actions. Should we leave them to their fate? Abandon our tenants of harmony and love to fuel our desire for justice?”

“But we’ll never find him if we don’t start now! He’s already completely disappeared off the face of Equestria once before! What makes you think he won’t do so again?”

“His crimes beforehoof never warranted our guards' full attention and force, regardless of what Applejack thinks of minor acts of thievery and ill manners,” Luna replied solemnly. Darkness clouded the diarch’s facial features as her grief-stricken expression shifted to dorcelessness. “But we promise thee that this miscreant will beg for a death we will not afford him. There is no place for his kind to seek refuge in our lands, and his cowardice hath only delayed the inevitable.”

The spell on Luna’s horn lanced through the hallway before Twilight could react.

“But until then, thou must rest.”

“DIRTY BOOTS! DIRTY BOOTS! ALL… over…my… crisp… white…”

Twilight fell to the floor in a crumpled heap.

“Rarity, please take Twilight to her quarters,” Luna continued without missing a beat as she clutched the younger alicorn’s unconscious body in her magic. “And perhaps thou can finally alleviate at least a few of young Spike’s fears.”

“But what about Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy? I… yes. Thank you, Princess.” Rarity bowed, both in compliance and from the extra 69 pounds of mare fat draped over her spine. “Ugh, you are so going on a diet when you wake up, young missy!”

“Captain Stalwart, were art thou? We require thy services!” Princess Luna’s gaze swiveled over the crowd along with her floopy horse ears. “Captain Stalwart?”

“He’s gone, Your Majesty.” A male turquoise pegasus guard stepped from the crowd before pointing a lithe forehoof toward the body. Dark bags hung precariously beneath his eyes, and the oversized golden armor that clung to his back looked like it would swallow him whole due to his almost foal-like stature. “We’re still trying to conduct a muster to ensure everypony is accounted for, but things look grim.”

“Dost thou know of Captain Blaze's whereabouts?”

He shook his head. “Unknown. She was in the mess hall when the debris hit the castle, and we’re still trying to put the fires out in that area.”

“First Lieutenant Marigold?”

“Definitely dead. She was crushed by falling debris as soon as the attack started.”

A barely perceptible quiver touched Luna’s lips before she pressed them into a firm, resolute line.

“Who is in charge now?”

“You’re looking at him. Sergeant Major Cold Air reporting for duty, Ma’am.”

Luna nodded, her eyes drifting toward the metal husk beside her. There was logic behind Twilight’s deductions, her sudden bout of insanity notwithstanding. But her gut told her there was far more to this plot than met the eye.

‘And while Dave is our most credible lead, he is also our only lead,’ Luna thought. ‘But mayhaps ‘credible’ in this instance is a misnomer.’

“Send thy fastest fliers to Cloudsdale and Ponyville’s immediately. Tell them Canterlot calls for aid and that we require as many of their weather ponies and rain clouds as they can spare.”

“Should I send a detachment after the scouts heading to Ponyville? We can begin preparations for combing through the Everfree for the fugitive with the town as our staging area.”

“Yes, we still hath yet to discern the whereabouts of Ms. Fluttershy, and we fear for the worst,” Luna replied. “What of our sister? Has she awoken yet?”

“No, Ma’am.” Cold Air’s ears wilted for the faintest second before standing to attention again. “We’ve tried to rouse her, but nothing seems to work. We even had to send in the royal physician to make sure she didn’t fall into a coma or worse.”

Luna sighed.

“Have one of thy guards fetch the wooden box under our bed labeled ‘Toys.’ They will know what to do when they open it.”

“M-ma’am?” Cold Air’s pitifully small wings sprung open and stiffened. “Are you sure? That-”

“Desperate times call for desperate measures,” Luna cut him off quickly, if only to distract the guard stallion from the deep blush on her face. “And we have much need of our sister’s guidance in these trying times.”

“Yes, you- Your Highness.” Cold air saluted with a forehoof, unable to twitch a single muscle in his wing joints. “I will relay your orders to the troops and begin preparations at…at…”

“Sergeant Major?” Luna asked concernedly. “What troubles thee?”

Cold Air rushed past Princess Luna, ruffling against her bandaged fur like a gust of freezing wind as he stared out the gaping holes in the wall behind her. Her alicorn senses were already filled with the acrid tang of smoke, but as she swiveled after Cold Air, she felt her heart stop.

In the distance, towering flames licked the sky, blotting the midday sun and casting the heartland of Equestria in darkness.

The Everfree Forest was on fire.

The missile knows where it is at all times. It knows this because it knows where it wants to be.

This thought plagued the missile’s guidance subsystem as it carefully dragged itself upward on the cliffs. Despite the deviations present, the missile was able to generate corrective commands to drive the missile forward from the precarious position where it was to the position given to the missile by the unironically based mothballed fifth-generation stealth fighter.

“It's the end of the world, and I just can't wait! I know that you can #relate!” The missile sang, swinging the ice picks clutched tightly in its forward fins. “La de da de da de da de day oh!”

Left. Right. Left. Right. The missile knew that such crude methods would only generate more deviations from its variation, but there was no point in rushing such things. The journey was just as important as the destination, after all.

“La de da de, where did all the good times go?”

Billowing smoke and ash chased slowly behind the missile, about a few hundred American Freedom Units below at the bottom of the cliff’s edge. The sight had been downright nostalgic to the missile—a simple yearning for a time and place it had never experienced.

But that deviation was quickly banished behind a thousand subroutines and corrective commands. The missile hadn’t been lucky enough to experience the Vietnam War like its forefathers before it, and it had been relegated to be nothing more than a bench warmer during the forever war in Afghanistan, but this time was different.

There were no pencil pushers to yank the missile by fins, no asocial planeophiles to gawk at the missile during its imprisonment inside one of Uncle Sam’s many hanger bays. There was only a single target, a single objective, and a singular focus to drive the missile forward.

“-When did all the windmills start to turn so slow?” The skies darkened, obscuring the missile’s IR dome’s view of the sun as a million forest critters cried out in terror before being suddenly silenced. But that hardly mattered. The picturesque globe of plasma was a false idol as far as the guidance computer scenario was concerned.

“La dee dee dum da dee dee day! When will you come back home?” Left. Right. Left. The final swing of the ice pick struck the edge of the rock outcropping with a satisfying crunch, allowing the missile to pivot toward the gleaming white and gold city ahead.

To anyone else, the sight of Canterlot would have been mesmerizing—a true city on the hill with all the enchanted splendor and wealth ripped straight out of a fairy tale. But the missile didn’t care to deviate from its course or partake in the rich customs founded upon the tenants of friendship and harmony.

Instead, the internal cameras whirred, zooming in on the castle's enormous spiral towers and the blazing heat signature stored within.

“...If only I could be so grossly incandescent.”

The missile launched.

Author's Note

Nope, I'm not dead! I've been working on a few side projects, but I want to finish this fic before I start posting them.

To those of you still following this shitpost of a fic, I thank you and hope to give you all more within the next few weeks!