You whistle appreciatively as you open the door to your suite. A short hallway opens into a spacious, window-lit lounge with a pair of cushy sofas placed around a coffee table. A radio set sits silently in the corner. There are three doors leading off from the lounge to the bedroom, bathroom, and a storage cupboard.

The best part? The distasteful changeling atmosphere present throughout the rest of the hotel is nowhere to be seen here. Instead, the soft, colourful furniture, vinyl floor and warm sunlight streaming in reminds overwhelmingly of a small home in Canterlot. You guess there are specific rooms designed for guests of different species, to make them feel more comfortable.

The giant floor-to-ceiling window is the best part. You lock the door behind you, throw your saddlebags and coat on the floor, and leap onto one of the sofas.

You stare outside at the chilly city landscape. The window looks over Tower Plaza, but from this high up you can see the rows of apartment blocks and offices surrounding it. They stretch out into the horizon, an endless sea of grey roofs broken up only by the occasional skyscraper.

Nothing can ruin your relief at finally having some alone time after days of travelling, though. You yawn as you get comfortable on the sofa. A short nap will do you good...

...aaaand you wake up over nine hours later. The ambient light of the cityscape is ample enough for you to read the clock mounted on the wall. It's fifteen minutes to eight o'clock- and more importantly, fifteen minutes to your scheduled dinner with Snap.

You immediately leap up from the sofa and work hurriedly to get dressed. From your time as a police officer you have plenty of experience sleeping on a couch- er, adjusting to rapidly developing situations. In the bedroom- which is windowless- you find a wardrobe fully stocked with clothes that are roughly your size. You recall the receptionist from earlier informing you that you could wear any of the clothes, as long as you returned them before booking out.

Rifling through the wardrobe, you pick out a random set of suit and pants. You're only carrying a few travelling clothes and a formal dress with you, and you hardly have time to go shopping for clothing like you had planned, so the hotel clothes will have to do. You silently pray to Celestia that they've been cleaned since the last guest used them.

It's a ridiculously rough fit. Your tail presses uncomfortably just above your cutie mark; unlike most pants without tail holes, this one lacks any slack for the tail to comfortably fit. The suit is strangely loose around the barrel and legs, and the collar keeps catching on your mane. You waste a full ten minutes just getting the clothes on.

You spare a quick glance in the mirror and decide it looks fine. Changeling tailors must be really incompetent for the fitting to be this bad.

Mercifully, your room is located almost right in front of the elevator lobby. You catch an elevator with a few changelings already inside. You ignore their stares and nod at the attendant.

"Hey, uh, I'm looking for the Schmétterling."

"What 'ling?" The attendant blinks at you.

You pronounce more slowly, "A restaurant called the Schmétterling?"

"Ah. Second floor of the lobby."

Stopping a couple of times on the way, the elevator eventually reaches the second floor. You exit and find yourself in the lobby atrium- this time on the second floor.

The second floor consists of a wide balcony running along a series of restaurants and shops built into the wall. An elaborate wrought iron fence on the balcony edge along with the dark, heavy floor tiles give off a castle-like atmosphere. It contrasts sharply with the modern, brightly lit entrances to luxury clothing stores, perfume displays, and restaurants.

You glance wistfully at a clothing store, still feeling uncomfortable in your suit. You'll have to go shopping after your dinner- which you're just barely on time for. Weaving through the crowds of changelings, you almost miss the entrance to the Schmétterling. A single changeling in a host's outfit stands outside a pair of closed wooden doors. The restaurant is squeezed in a ridiculously small space between two other establishments.

You approach the host warily. "Hey, are you guys closed?"

"Not at all, ma'am. Do you have a reservation?" The host says this dismissively, as if she already thinks the answer is 'no'.

"I- Is there a Snap?"

"Snip?"

"Snap."

"Snap... Yes, he's already arrived, ma'am. You're at table four- it's on the third balcony."

Third balcony?

You trot through a silent, deserted hallway. Only the fancy chandeliers and wooden floor give any indication that you're in a classy restaurant. The hallway ends at a round staircase. A sign reads:

UP - Balconies 1 - 4
DOWN - Balconies 5 - 6, Kitchen

You climb up the staircase, feeling less easy by the second. What kind of restaurant opens with a long hallway? Why is there a staircase? Nevertheless, eventually you reach a door marked 'Balcony Three'.

Pushing it open you step out onto a large stone... er, balcony. About half a dozen four-person tables are dotted around the balcony. Well-dressed changeling waiters weave in between the tables, delivering food, refilling glasses, and taking the orders of the various customers at the tables. Your outfit thankfully fits in with the stiff, formal outfits most of the visitors are wearing.

The view is utterly fantastic. To the left you can see Tower Plaza, its paths and stores lit up dazzlingly. The lights of the buildings and vehicles blink around it. The breeze is a bit too chilly for your tastes, though.

You spot Snap sitting alone, rubbing his forelegs' hooves together absentmindedly. It feels strange to see him without the constant presence of the nymphs he takes care of. You skirt around a table and approach him from behind.

"Boo."

"Hm?"

You roll your eyes and sit down across from Snap. "You could have at least acted surprised."

He chuckles and replies, "I saw you when you trotted through the door. I'm more scared of your outfit- no offense. What are you wearing?"

"Uh, a suit?" You blink back confusedly.

"That's a changeling suit. A male changeling suit. Did someling knowingly sell you that?"

Gah! Why would they put a suit fitted for changelings in a room designed for ponies?

"It came with the room. I thought it was a normal suit," you grumble, blushing slightly. "That explains the, ehm, difficulties I had putting it on." You bury your muzzle in a menu to avoid further embarrasment.

"You don't know a lot about changelings, do you?" Snap muses. "I could help you out."

You lower the menu slightly. "Help me out?"

He shrugs. "You could ask me questions. We have plenty of time."

Mentally listing your order, you put down the menu.

"...you're supposed to ask me the questions."

"Oh, right. Uh. You're called changelings, but I haven't seen a lot of changing so far. What's up with that?"

A waiter stops by and fills your glasses with water.

"Changing-? Oh, shapeshifting." Snap seems hesitant to reply. "Shapeshifting is considered... taboo in public. And, ever since Her Majesty united the Changeling Lands, we've needed to carry around these documents showing which forms we're allowed to take-"

"You don't approve of being controlled like that?" You guess.

Snap looks around worriedly. "It- it's for our safety. Otherwise a changeling could just take someling else's form, commit a crime, and get away with it... maybe we should talk about something else."

Dammit! The first changeling you find who opposes Chrysalis' regime, and he's too afraid to even hold a conversation. Coward.

"Alriiiiight. So, your wing-"

"Door smaller than BABY PLAYHOUSE door. Yak don't like."

You're cut off by the loud bellow originating from the entrance to the balcony. A trio of yaks and a pair of changelings, all dressed in government-style, formal black-blue suits. From this far away you can't make out what the changelings are saying. You watch as they're seated at a nearby table; you might just be able to overhear them from here.

"Are those yaks? I've never seen one in real life."

"Yeah... they don't really leave the Yakistani mountains..." You fall silent as you ponder on the yaks. Yakyakistan, their homeland, has been at war with the Changeling Lands for years now. So why are they here?

"Sir, madame, are we about ready to order?" A waiter materializes virtually out of nowhere, causing you to jump slightly. Damn changelings.

You strain your ears to hear the conversation between the yaks and the changelings, but only make out a few disjointed words above the wind and general noise of the other guests.

"Yes, thank you. I'll have the yellowtail sashimi to start, and a lobster ravioli for the main course. To drink... let the chef decide."

"And what will you be having, ma'am?"

You beam at him. "Do you guys have hayburgers?"

The waiter blinks, clearly taken aback by such a strange request for a changeling restaurant. "Hayburgers are-?" He recomposes himself and smiles. "Yes, ma'am. You'll get the best hayburger of your life."

"With fries."

"With fries. And a large cola."

Now it's your turn to be confused. "A 'cola'?"

"A sweet, carbonated drink. It goes great with fries. I'm sure you'll enjoy it, ma'am. Unless you were looking for something else...?"

You shake your head. "The cola will be fine."

"Thank you, ma'am. The sashimi and drinks will arrive before the rest of the meal. Enjoy your meal."

Now that the waiter is gone, you can just barely hear the conversation at the next table.

"-terms are not acceptable at this time."

"Yak strong. Not break like flimsy chair, strong like heavy iron door. Yak giving you favour here by opening door. "

It seems like they're just conversing about some business deal. You guess the yaks are collaborators, like Cold Heart. Still, you could gather some important-

"A 'hayburger' sounds good."

Aaaand Snap decides to start a conversation. No one told you the biggest obstacle to spying would be an annoying dinner mate.

"It's a fairly popular dish in Ca- in western Equestria." Phew, that was close. You can't keep making slip-ups like this. You're not Cold Strike anymore, you're Cold Heart. "Yellowtail and lobster... those are, uh, fish, right? Ponies don't normally eat meat." You find the idea of eating another being revolting, but you know that some other species raise and eat animals.

"Neither do changelings, actually. Seafood is different though. Fish are more like plants than living beings to us. I suppose we grew accustomed to it out of necessity. In the northwest- where I come from- growing crops is difficult."

The conversation dies down as both of you struggle to think of something to talk about. Instead you pretend to look out from the balcony, while in reality your ears are turned towards the table with the yaks.

"-ments are filled out. You just have to sign in, and the previous... supervisor... will hand over command to you."

"I'd like to get to the subject as soon as possible. I do not have time for your fancy meals and small talk."

Oh? You accidentally picked up a conversation from a pair of nearby diners you didn't take much note of till now. You sneak a glance at them, then gasp slightly and look away.

One is a standard, aged bureaucrat wearing a suit and tie. The other is a teal-finned, wholly black-carapaced changeling in a trench coat.

There's nothing unusual about him except for the fact that he's staring right at you, smiling viciously. You keep your ears pointed at him, but raise a napkin to subtly cover your face.

Snap blinks confusedly at you.

"Relax. We're just here to throw off anyone who might be tailing you."

It's alright. They're not talking about you. They can't be.

"Mmm... tailing me? In Her Majesty's Tower? Ridiculous."

Phew, the creepy changeling didn't find you suspicious.

"We had a breach a few weeks ago, and the Reichsarmee is still on our-"

"You're wasting my time. I will go to see the subject immediately. Good night, officer."

"Good night, agent."

Dammit! This is your first lead- well, second, if you consider the yaks- on something worth investigating, and it's trotting away as fast as possible. You make a split-second decision and get up from your chair.

"Sorry, Snap. I'm uh, not feeling too well."

"Oh. That's a shame." Snap looks genuinely upset. "Do you want me to take you to your ro-"

"No, thanks. Enjoy your meal," you spit out before taking off through the balcony door. The creepy changeling- gah, you'll just call him 'Agent' for now- is already gone. You rush down the stairs faster than a Wonderbolt hearing about a new photo op, casting a tracking spell at the same time.

The spell fails. Either the target is out of range, which is unlikely, or you don't have enough information. Agent is too generic-looking for you to provide the spell with any unique details. You try the spell again, this time focusing on his trench coat.

You've got it! A blue line appears on the ground, visible only to you. You reach the hallway where the host from earlier stops you.

"Didn't you just get here a few minutes ago, ma'am? Did you find Mister Snap?"

You try to sidestep her. "I did. I'm just feeling a bit unwell."

"Oh, dear. The restrooms are next to the kitchen if you need them."

You force a smile on your face and try to move around her once again. She blocks your path with an equally fake smile.

"The kitchen is downstairs, ma'am."

"I don't need the restroom, ma'am." The blue line is getting dimmer. Soon Agent will be completely out of range of the spell.

"You're going towards the exit-"

Time for some good ol' shouting. "I am TRYING to exit. Please move aside."

The host moves aside.

You canter out of the restaurant. Outside, you look around for the blue line, but your view is blocked by the crowds of nighttime shoppers and tourists. You make your way to the glass railing where you scan the atrium for Agent, keeping both your eyes and ears sharp.

You catch a conversation between a pair of changelings in office shirts.

"I'm not actually supposed to show you this, so we'll have to bluff our way in. Don't worry, they have no idea who's supposed to be there and who isn't."

"If this a top-secret project, shouldn't we ask the Energy Committee-?"

"And wait four days for them to meet only for them to decide to let you in anyways? No, we need every second we can get. That's how vital this research is. Let's move, we should leave the Tower before dawn."

You pause for a moment. You consider whether to tail these two 'lings instead; they sound important too, and you've entirely lost Agent in the crowds- wait, no, there's the blue line! It leads in the direction of the elevators. Leaning over the railing, you just barely spot Agent waiting next to one of the elevator shafts, completely oblivious that you're watching him.

Right when things couldn't get more chaotic, the yak party storms out of the restaurant in apparent anger.

You've got three leads to potentially vital information, and you can only follow one. You can't tell if this is lucky or unlucky, but whatever you choose, it'd better be a damn good choice.

It's time to choose...

Who do you follow?

A - Agent, a mysterious changeling in a trench coat discussing a 'subject' and who is important enough to worry about being followed.
B - The two researchers trying to bluff their way somewhere they aren't supposed to be.
C - The group of the changelings and yaks suspiciously visiting the Great Queen's Tower.

This is the last choice of the Act. Choose wisely.

Option B wins the vote with 83.33% of 6 total votes.

Author's Note

Hi! I'm back, after a two week break to generally rest my weary hands and plan out the future of the fic. Thank you all for your patience, and enjoy the new chapter- the second last of the act!