Author's Note

NOTE: This chapter contains an explicit death. You have been warned.
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Chapter 6: The Ten of Twelve

Pinkie was working at Sugarcube Corner, as she often did. Rainbow Dash had recently come by, and she was a great boon to Pinkie's cupcake-making. She was happily putting the cupcakes Dashie helped her make on the countertop, right below where the Pie Family watch was hanging, when suddenly a figure appeared in the shop. Pinkie could have sworn they had literally popped into existence, no fanfare or confetti or anything fun like that, not even a flash of light. Oddly enough, the pink mare before her was a dead ringer for herself. It was like staring into her reflection, albeit one with a more suspicion-holding expression as the strange twin looked around the bakery.

Well, Pinkie wasn't going to let a strange coincidence stop her from saying hello. "Hiya, new-pony-who-looks-a-hay-of-a-lot-like-me, welcome to Sugarcube corner!"

The twin looked "Has anything bad happened?"

It was an odd question for certain... Oh wait! She knew what it probably was! "Ooooooh are you like a version of me from the far far FAR future or like 5 minutes from now like in a sci-fi story or a REALLLY weird dream?"

The twin sort of looked at Pinkie confused. "It's kind of hard to explain, but short answer no. Can you answer my question really quick if anything bad has happened? It's pretty important."

Pinkie contemplated the question for a moment. She didn't want to count Dashie's help with the cupcakes after all. "Nope-arini martini, nothing bad here! I did finish making a batch of cupcakes with Dashie though. Want one on the house? Or inside the house? Ooh! Ooh! Maybe outside? It's free in any case!"

The twin squinted with an inquisitive look before answering. "I'll take one inside this bakery, yeah. What flavor are they?"

"Rainbow-licious flavor! Dashie put all she had in them, and they're delicious! I've tasted them myself!"

The twin gave a small smile. "Sure! Rainbow-licious sounds rainbowy AND delicious!" She picked up one off the tray and took a bite. Suddenly, she stopped, frowning. Chewed a bit more. She swallowed reluctantly. The twin took a close look at her partly eaten cupcake.

"What's wrong?" Pinkie was beginning to be worried for her own double. Did she not like the cupcake? Did she add too much baking soda?

The twin looked confused and a little scared. "This tastes like meat." She said it matter-of-factly, but her voice cracked slightly.

Pinkie's eyes widened. They weren't the same person after all. "Oh, I have no idea what a 'meat' is," she lied, "so could you give me a little more-"

"OK," interrupted the twin, "there's no way you don't know what MEAT is. How did you even get meat? You'd have to import it from Griffonstone or somewhere else with a high population of carnivores or omnivores. It would be cheaper to import flour made out of gold!"

"Oh, well, Dashie helped me make it!" Was that too obvious?

"Right, I know Rainbow knows Gilda and all, but how would tha-" The twin stopped. Ohhhhhhhh, yep! Too obvious. The twin looked between Pinkie and, for some reason, the antique watch. "Where's Dashie," she half-whispered.

Pinkie kept up a cheerful smile as best she could, which was to say extremely well. "Oh, she's going to be out of town for a while," she said confidently. "She was just helping me out before she left!" Pinkie began to wonder if this twin was biologically similar to her. After all, she didn't want this pig-colored pony to squeal about this, and she always wondered what her own flesh would taste like...

The twin looked at the watch. For whatever reason, she leapt for it, grabbing the old watch quickly.

"HEY!" Pinkie was offended at the clear lack of respect for personal belongings. "THAT'S AN OLD FAMILY HEIRLOOM YOU'D BETTER-"

Suddenly, glowing yellow light seemed to exit the watch and latch onto Pinkie. Her eyes began to glow the same color, and Romana began to weep. She collapsed from both the light's effects, her newly regain knowledge, and the avalanche of sheer guilt that engulfed her. She wept, deeply and thoroughly, muttering a strange language never heard before on Gaea, all words of shame and guilt and regret.

Romana looked up to face her twin, but almost as soon as the figure had appeared, she vanished. Romana could only conclude that the figure was her own guilt and despair bubbling inside her reaching out in the form of a hallucination... Not noticing the still half-eaten cupcake on the other side of the counter. Not that she would care, anyways.

After today, there would be no more cupcakes.

"What the hay is a 'Chamillion Arch'?"

"It's pronounced 'chameleon,' Dashie," Twilight corrected.

Rainbow just rolled her eyes. "OK, fine," she said, looking in Twilight's direction, "what's a 'Chameleon Arch?"

"If I remember correctly," the Doctor said, "it was a way to disguise oneself as a human by altering the user's biology. The side effect is that your brain can't remember it all, having been altered to one not used to such long lifespans, nor are they used to experiencing time in the same way Time Lords do."

Pinkie nodded, solemnly. "You make yourself a backstory of a possible human, like making a character in O&O. The human, or in this case pony, version of you creates a mental defense mechanism. You think that 'the watch' is broken or that it's a family heirloom so fragile that it can't be touched, but you'll want to protect it. It can only be opened by the person who used it on themselves, so you'd have to find a way to tell your human self when to open it, if ever. Thankfully, since I technically have the same biological makeup, I was able to trick it into giving the other me her memories and biology back, and it didn't latch onto me because I'm already a Time Lord."

"So, wait," Rainbow said, "if you made that 'pony you' then why did that version of you... Yech... Turn me into a cupcake? Especially since she broke down crying over it?"

Pinkie sighed. "I might have had some dark thought bleed through my mind when making it or something, which is... Possible... But I'm also pretty sure that was all fictional anyways. The theatre's messing with us, or at least the people that made it did."

Twilight spoke up next. "Sorry to interrupt, Pinkie, but I think I've found a narrative pattern between all of the plays so far."

The rest of the group looked in her direction, aside from Rarity who still seemed shaken from her own play earlier. Twilight had already gotten out a chart somehow. (Only Pinkie knew exactly how, although the Doctor would make a correct educated guess that Pinkie had taught Twilight the same trick he used for his rapier.)

She cleared her throat. "If you would look here, you'll see that each story has the same theme of 'you can do nothing to change what happened.' With my two plays, both what the 'lab-coat' me did, whatever this 'Opaline' did to the 'ruler-of-Equestria' me, and whatever caused the world Rarity was in to fall apart all happened so long ago that there was nothing to be done. Meanwhile, if we had taken down the 'rainbow-factory' Dashie and the 'Time Lord Victorious' it wouldn't have mattered since the systems they were each a part of were so massive that they could just find a replacement ruler of some sort. The cannibal version of Pinkie would fall into the former category, as she already turned Dashie into a cupcake. Combine this with the measuring of negative emotions in the sound booth and it's clear that the purpose of the performatives is to elicit negative reactions. Thankfully, when I checked during Pinkie's performance, those emotions were all below 90% of needed, and that makes me think they all need to be at 100% at once for it to activate. I think we can thank the Doctor's meditation for that lowered number."

"Thank you, my dear," the Gallifreyan responded.

"Yeah, yeah," Rainbow dismissed, "but do you have to make all of this so boring?"

"Yes, actually," said Twilight. "If you're bored, you aren't feeling scared or angry or anything like that, you're just bored."

"Oooooh" said Pinkie, cheering up. "That's my clever marefriend right there!" She gave the nerdy alicorn a peck on the cheek, resulting in an adorable purple blush.

Twilight quickly shook her head. "Regardless, I think we still need to activate performances in order to get Vinyl back without going over the limit. I think after one more we need to get Octavia, explain to her what's going on, and get her to go through performances until we can find the one where she lost vinyl. And something important to remember, everypony... These are plays meant to deliver a reaction out of us, nothing more, and we should act like it." She turned to Pinkie. "Pinkie, I'm going on stage while you hold the mask, and I'm going to try and test the limits of it. If you think I'm in excessive danger just put it down."

"Can do, captain!" Pinkie gave a salute, leaving Twilight to fly on the stage.

"Ready, Pinkie?"

"Ready, Twily!"

President Romana the Third was watching from Gallifrey's capitol. She was a slim, black-haired older woman with a face that showed the lack of warmth left in her heart. She had a short nose that turned upwards towards the end. She had modeled her appearance when regenerating after a famous author she enjoyed, Miranda Pelham. Her outfit was the standard for a Time Lord leader, a red robe with the traditional shoulder-piece that gave her a large, circular disk behind her head. In short, she was the epitome of authority.

As far as she knew, things were going... Adequately, despite the circumstances. She was growing more and more shocked and apalled of her people by the day, although near anyone going up against the Daleks was going to become worse people out of self-defense. When the enemy wants you and all you love dead and can provably feel nothing but pure, abject hatred, you begin to ignore whether guns that can wipe one from existence or creating minefields that can could have one freeze in time could be considered "ethical." At this point, Romana III didn't care what happened to the daleks, hateful things that they were. She was the one who led her people down this path of survival, after all, and as of yet she had no regrets.

Instead, she worried for after the war.

She knew her people wouldn't simply stop using all of that weaponry once the daleks were gone. She knew that any response they would give to conflict would become overblown and horrific near-immediately. Her fellow Time Lords were already completely and utterly full of themselves, but they had become... Almost dalek-like in their sense of superiority and bigotry, even against normal Gallifreyans. They already had an ego larger than all of time itself, to the point where they were the ones who got to control it, but after the war... Whoever won the war, the universe would definitively lose, and she would at least be partially responsible. However, these thoughts were for after the war. After they won.

Then, and only then, could Romana III have regrets.

"Excuse me?"

Romana III looked in the direction of the voice. It was a dark-skinned young woman, with long hair that was various shades of purple. She wore what appeared to a human schoolgirl uniform that with another shade of purple on the vest, skirt and leggings, along with an off-white for rest of the ensemble.

Romana III, in response to this, brandished a weapon.

"Who are you," she demanded, "and what do you want?"

The girl seemed sheepish. "I'm sorry for bothering you, I just-"

"Get to the point." Romana III looked down at her weapon. "Do you know what this is?"

"No, but-"

"This is a Time Gun. It's a replica of the one Rassilon used against D'if of the Cybock Imperium in a game of roulette. What it does is fire out a time bomb. When it fires upon you, your timeline will be erased completely, along with any impact you may have made in your time. Only to me will you ever have existed"

Suddenly the girl had a horrified look upon her face, as if unable to fully comprehend the pure destruction of everything she ever was.

Romana III put the Time Gun down. "Based off of your reaction, you mean me no harm. If you came to kill me you would have known about the possibility of your non-existence beforehand. Now then, what's your reason for being here?"

The girl stuttered for a moment before composing herself. "Are you Pinkie Pie?"

"Pinkie Pie..?"

"Oh, right, sorry! I, uh, confused you for somepony else."

"Confused me for what else?"

The girl sighed. "Let me start over. Are you Romana?"

"Romana the Third, Imperatrix of the Nine Gallifreys, if you wish to know my full title. Are you from my future?"

"I, well, kinda, it's complicated, I'm not sure you want to know. Could you, uh, show me around here? I kind of need to look around." The girl walked forward a bit wonkily, as if she wasn't used to having them but still had somewhat of a familiarity.

Romana III would have laughed if she had the humor in her anymore. "We are in the middle of a war zone, no you cannot 'look around.'"

The girl gulped. "OK, then. Um, see you later, I guess? I'm just going to have to-"

Just then, another girl seemed to appear from nowhere. This one had bright pink, fluffy hair. She was overweight, had similarly dark skin to the other one, and was wearing a pink T-shirt with three balloons on it alongside cutoff jeans and a pair of sneakers. At the very least, Romana III could tell she was a Time Lord. For some reason she was carrying a strange, scowling mask vaguely shaped like a horse's face.

"Hiya," said the newer girl, "I'm Pinkie Pie!"

The Time Gun came out once more. "I assume you know what this does?"

"Pinkie Pie" laughed. "Come on, doing that would cause a paradox or something, and we already have enough of those flying around."

"Oh, right, sorry! I, uh, confused you for somepony(?) else."

"I see," Romana III said, lowering her weapon. "I'm assuming you're from a further point in the war then?"

"No, but I am from your future."

The girl looked at "Pinkie." "What? But I thought-"

"I know, Twily, I'll explain later."

"Twily" and "Pinkie." Romana III's future was apparently written by time-tots.

"But yeah! Really like how I look right now!" Pinkie looked into the reflection on Romana III's circular regalia. "I like the shirt! It's cute! I haven't seen this regeneration here before, so that's pretty nifty!"

Romana III backed away. "How did you get here," she inquired, "if you're from after the war? This entire conflict is time-locked!"

"Long story," said the pink version of her, "but that's not important. What is important is something big is happening today, something that threatens all life on Gallifrey, and the Daleks!"

"Why should I care if the Daleks dies?"

The girl named Twily gasped. Clearly she had no idea of the full extent of the war.

"That's... Justified," Pinkie admitted, seemingly ashamed, "but if the Daleks die so do the Time Lords! So does all of Gallifrey."

Romana III scoffed. "If that is the price to pay, so be it."

Twily looked between the two others before her. Romana III found the unintentional honesty of the young woman refreshing after the espionage and reclusiveness present in the war all these years, centuries, seconds or weeks, whichever one it was at that moment. It was clear she was aghast that there was a point in the past where this "Pinkie" would even entertain such notions, never mind be willing to go through with it. At least, as far as Romana III knew, it was worthwhile to keep the universe safe from the Daleks.

"What about the civilians," demanded the girl. "What about the children?"

Romana III sighed. "Do you expect me to keep track of all the lives we've lost? I don't know about this version of me you cling onto, but I personally couldn't care to keep track of such things."

Pinkie's response was as quick as a staser. "Two point four seven billion children are on Gallifrey today, you liar."

Romana III paused for a moment, with Twily being dumbstruck. None could blame this "Twily."

"Fine then," Romana III said, "I do have hearts. However, when has sentimentality ever won a war?"

Pinkie seemed to stifle a laugh. "Where we end up? All the time."

Romana III's patience had run out at that. "Right then. What do you remember from this, if you're still of the intelligence to have a memory."

Her future self gulped. "I don't remember our conversation, but it was short enough to where I remember this happens in 3-2-1-"

All of a sudden, an explosion hit the building they were all in, and the sounds of Daleks filled the air.

The pink version of herself laughed a horrified sort of laugh. "This is it," she said, a hint of the Time Lord within peeking through. "This is the day. The last day of the Last Great Time War."

Romana III looked up. "The last?"

"Yep, and..." She paused, looking solemn. "It's too late to change anything, just like Twily said... Still, I have three pieces of advice, the most important advice you'll ever hear until you regenerate."

"Out with it, then!"

"First, smile more."

Romana III rolled her eyes at that.

"Second, forgive yourself. It won't happen soon, but it will! It has to eventually, right?"

Romana II didn't like the wording of that.

"And lastly..."

The pink one's past and the Imperatrix's future embraced in a hug, much to the former's annoyance.

"Find Leela, and tell her how amazing of a friend she is."

With that, the two girls disappeared, leaving Romana to do the one thing left to do, the thing the Doctor would recommend in such a situation as the end of a war while the Daleks are attacking your building.

She ran like Hell.

"Hold on," Twilight said as both mares went back off the stage, "was that..."

Pinkie sighed. "Yeah. That was my actual past. I remembered you from then. It's why I gasped when I saw you for the 'first' time. I can't remember meeting myself due to paradoxes, but but it was short enough that I remembered nearly everything else."

Twilight put a hoof on her forehead in a bit of shock.

"Wait," Rainbow said, "so that was real? You're sure of it?"

"Yepparino" was her reply, although neither of her hearts were in it.

"So..." Rainbow's expression turned into a combination of fear and anger. "Does that mean that the plays we saw earlier were also..?"

The entire group's horror grew as the realization hit.

A mare continued her notes, frantically noting her supposed hallucination.

A dethroned mare wept softly in an abandoned cave, far from Maretime Bay, missing her friends dearly.

A Time Lord wondered if he was really victorious.

"FIND THEM," screamed Rainbow Dash. "They have to be in the Factory somewhere! Kill the unicorn, and send my double to a training chamber! She'll become like us soon enough!"

Not far away from a mad prophet, a unicorn and an alicorn were arguing.

Fluttershy enters Sugarcube corner to the sight of a half-eaten cupcake on the ground and the sounds of a crying Time Lord.

The Imperatrix went looking for a friend, and her own future.

The Doctor was a brave person. Possibly the bravest in the world at that moment. However, there's a secret most refuse to acknowledge about bravery. In order to be extremely brave, you must be scared out of your mind. Without fear, bravery becomes stupidity rather quickly, and the Doctor was most certainly not an idiot. Bravery is not the absence of fear, but rather the ignoring of it to do what you think is right. It's what makes bravery so noble and commendable... And yet, just as well, so vulnerable.

Dashie was furious at the evil self she saw. She couldn't remember anything that awful bitch had said about Scootaloo aside from the last comment about how one of the bravest, strongest fillies Rainbow had ever known was reduced to mere colors. The only thing she could remember, and this infuriated her to no end... That genocidal murderer said that Scootaloo was somehow lesser, simply because she flew later than her peers. Rainbow could feel her blood boil.

Pinkie was worried beyond all belief, to the point where Twilight on a mission from Celestia would look like a Buddhist nun by comparison. What would Twilight think of her past self, and how cruel she could be? What did the others think? What did PINKIE even think? And what did that tell them about Pinkie now? What if they never found Vinyl? This baring of her soul, her trauma, her past, this wrench in her relationships... What if it was all for nothing? What if she gave up all she had left for a fruitless endeavor?

Dread. That's all Rarity felt. She was processing all of it, silently, fearfully. Yet all she could do was think and dread. Nothing but thinking and dread. Think. Dread. Think. Dread. Think, think... Dread.

Twilight was still dumbstruck by it all. The theater, the Time War, the... Older Pinkie, Romana III. She could hardly think straight. Far too many revelations for one day. Too many questions. Now she had to do actual research into this Opaline figure, psychologically examine herself to see if she was really capable of such cold cruelty... A lot of things really. Soon however, her gaze turned to the mask on the floor... And more shock appeared.

"Um... Guys?"

Everyone else was mumbling to themselves about one thing or another.

"Guys!"

Everyone else, Rarity aside, turned to look at Twilight.

"Look at the mask."

They did so... Only to find its scowl had been replaced with a malicious smile.

Fear: 356% required
Anger: 102% required
Anxiety: 342% required
Dread: 408% required
Shock: 291% required
Conclusion: Emotional gathering complete. Please put on the mask to begin when ready.

"Well, buck." Rainbow was the one who broke the silence. "That can't be good."

"No, Ms. Dash," said the Doctor, "it certainly can't be."

Pinkie scratched her head with a hoof. Don't ask how, you can guess. "Do I even need to look at the screen in the sound room? This is probably a sign that we went over the limit."

Twilight gritted her teeth in frustration. "But what does it mean? What does it do? Nopony touch it, please!"

"I'm not sure Octavia's story makes sense."

Everyone looked at Rarity. "What," Rainbow flatly asked.

"I'm sorry, my mind is in pieces at the moment, Darlings, but I just... Have this feeling, I suppose? Oh, I don't know..."

Twilight and the Doctor thought on it for a moment, thinking through the story.

"Wait," Twilight said after a moment of thought. "Octavia's performance talked directly to the audience. None of the other ones, including the ones the Doctor went through earlier, broke the fourth wall. Either they would be having a private moment of thought, or they were talking to someone else..."

"Not to mention," the Doctor added, "the way it supposedly took Vinyl. Not only did the strings reach out from the stage, they also managed to take vinyl with them. Based on what we've seen thus far, she should have just appeared back on the stage one Ms. Melody put down the mask."

"Ooh ooh! Me Next," Pinkie butted in. "When we found the mask, it was presented really nicely on a seat, when Octavia said she dropped it! Wee, this is fun! It's like a mystery!"

"Yeah," Rainbow said, "and I'm pretty sure we know whodunnit."

"I suppose that's my cue, then," came an all-too-familiar voice.

The gang looked at the entrance. There was Octavia, dragging a rather long box behind her down the center of the aisle. "My apologies for deceiving you. I truly am sorry, but the plan wouldn't have worked if you had known ahead of time. I needed the dread and anxiety factors to settle in, and it's hard to feel those things if you know what's happening ahead of time. As for the story, I modified it from a friend of mine, Gebläse. He was the one who transferred the theatre from his homeland of Griffonstone to here, and the one who originally used it. I suppose I must have misremembered some details. In any case, it got here startlingly quick. I only asked for it the other night while he was in town, and it showed up this morning."

The group stared at Octavia in silence. Rainbow, again, was the fastest to react. "WHAT THE HAY, OCTAVIA?!?"

"Look," the mare in question began, "I assure you there was good reason to do so. I couldn't do it on my own because you need multiple people to activate it. That being said..." She pulled out something translucent from her side, and it floated up to in front of her muzzle as a transparent tablet of some sort, backwards text appearing on its back. "You gave quite a lot more than I thought was needed. Ms. Dash gave 76% of the anger, and our latest resident the Doctor gave 157% of the required fear on his own, nearly half of what's needed. And poor Miss Belle seems to have given 230 percent of the dread. I do wonder why..."

The Doctor walked up. "Is this all part of some twisted entertainment for-"

Pinkie put a hoof in his muzzle, still looking directly at Octavia. "Sorry, Doctor. Listen, Octavia... I know ponies' feelings very well from looking at them. I don't know why, but... You seem so sad that you're near-numb. What happened?"

Octavia gave a heavy sigh. "Well, I can tell you one thing I certainly wasn't lying about..." She opened the lid of the long, coffin-shaped box, revealing its contents. Inside of it was Vinyl Scratch... Although clearly not alive. Her corpse was well preserved, no decay as of yet, which allowed the minds of those present to trick them into thinking they could still see her breathe.

"You are here to save Vinyl."

She walked forward towards the mask as the rest present were too mortified to stop her. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you how she died, so I'll spare you the details..."

Melodies were quickly being played, only to soon be forgotten or discarded. Octavia walked into the room where Vinyl was messing with Octavia's piano.

"Vinyl, what on Gaea are you doing?"

Vinyl stopped for a moment, then looked at Octavia while making hoof gestures.

"...Oh. My apologies, Vinyl. I thought only guards died during the invasion?"

More gestures from Vinyl.

"... I didn't realize your mother was in the military."

Vinyl nodded sadly.

"And forgive me if this question is insensitive, but you're using my piano because..?"

More gestures.

"... I see. When is the funeral?"

More gestures.

"I'll be sure to attend. I'm sorry they aren't letting you compose in your own style."

Vinyl nodded sadly.

"Would you like some help? I'm not much of a composer, simply a trained musician, but I do have a good ear for classical."

Vinyl nodded, a bit cheerier than before.

"Alright then, why don't we try some ideas out, see if they'll work?"

Vinyl began quickly with a nice-sounding melody.

"That is good, but I doubt something in a blues scale will do too well at a funeral."

Then, Vinyl made a a horrible mistake.

"A variation on Tirek's chord? That sounds a bit too sinister, I believe."

Knock knock knock knock

Both mares looked at each other.

"Well, that's a good drumbeat, I suppose. Something of a military march?"

Vinyl nodded, before gesturing something.

Octavia was confused. "Wait, I thought you did that?"

Vinyl shook her head before directing a hoof at Octavia.

"Well, then what caused it?"

Knock knock knock knock

Both turned their attention to the piano.

Knock knock knock knock

"Is that... Coming from... Inside the piano?"

Knock, knock, knock

On the eleventh knock, a strange purple pony, with swirly eyes and hair, wearing a beanie hat, popped out of the top of the piano. "Helloooooooo!!! Is it me you're looking for?!?"

Both mares were knocked to their backs due to the surprise. "I BEG YOUR PARDON," Octavia yelled, as she and Vinyl got back on their hooves, "WHO ARE YOU AND WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN OU- MY PIANO?"

"Ohhhhhh well my notation here is SCREWBALL!!! That being said, I go by other names too!!! My pronouns are they/them!!!" They looked directly at Vinyl. "Were you the one who played that BEAUTIFUL chord just now?!?"

Vinyl nodded, reluctantly.

"Well, let ME be the one to tell YOU, you are a musical genius!!! That's not an exaggeration or a joke!!! You are literally a musical maestro!!! I would know!!!" They winked at nothing in particular.

"Well, yes," Octavia agreed. "I don't even like dubstep and I could tell you she's a marvelous musician, but that doesn't explain-"

"Hold on!!! I need a little snack, and I see the perfect meal already!!!"

Both mares looked around the room. "What," said Octavia, "could possibly be in this room that you could eat?"

The intruder smiled before their answer...

Music.

Suddenly, Octavia saw Vinyl float into the air, and what appeared to be a staff of music notes flying out of her in a constant stream. Notes were placed seemingly sporadically, yet Octavia recognized some of it as matching songs Vinyl had composed. Songs both familiar and unfamiliar to Octavia filled the room, intense wubs and dubs playing throughout. The trail seemed to go to "Screwball," who was cackling cruelly. Octavia didn't have a clue of what was going on, but there was one thing that was certainly clear... Vinyl was in extreme pain.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO HER? PUT HER DOWN RIGHT NOW YOU MONSTER!"

Her screams were ignored.

"STOP!"

Vinyl gasped.

"STOP!"

Vinyl was dropped to the floor as the horrible cackling continued. Octavia went straight to Vinyl's body, expecting her to be hurt... She didn't expect to what degree.

"No..."

"YEP!!!" The giggling madpony before Octavia cackled evilly. "MM MM MMM!!! Your friend was delicious, Tavi!!! Don't worry, I'm not after you because I'm saving room for something later!!! I'll get an all-you-can-eat buffet of music soon enough!!! Mustn't spoil myself!!! See you earlier Tavi, but for now?!? It ain't no lie, baby bye bye bye!!!"

With that, they stared directly at you, the reader. Then, they popped back into the piano from whence they came.

Meanwhile, Octavia was holding the body of her best friend, sobbing uncontrollably. She swore she could still hear that cackle. It sounded like an arpeggio, designed to mock all who heard it.

But that didn't matter now. Her friend, her lover, was turned from a beautiful symphony to a single rest note.

"Vinyl, no, please hear me, wake up, please, I'm begging you wake up, Vinyl please, listen..."

Octavia blankly stared at the mask on the ground. "I will simply say that I haven't been able to enjoy music since."

She picked up the mask. The stage's curtains pulled back to reveal exactly what she expected to see; Herself, weeping over Vinyl's body on that very night just a short while earlier. As the rest of the crowd looked on in horror, Octavia turned to the audience.

"Well, I've done my 10 of 12. Now to get what I came here for."

Twilight could could barely muster the courage to speak. "Wh- What are you expecting to happen here?"

Octavia stared blankly at her interrogator. "A way to bring Vinyl back. Nothing more, but certainly nothing less. Now to summon my new benefactor." She put the mask close to her face, and it enlarged to match.

It was then the Doctor began to piece things together.

Negative emotions.

Deals.

Summoning.

"MISS MELODY, WHATEVER IT IS YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING-"

It was too late. The mask was on her face, and Octavia screamed as the mask latched on before quickly coming off. As she did that, a being emerged from the orchestra pit, a red glow surrounding them. A symphony of instruments and operatic voices announced a grand arrival.

"It's too late," shouted the Doctor.

The being was humanoid in form. They appeared to be a satyr similar to mythology, with the bottom half of a goat and the top half of a human... Aside from the head, which seemed goat-like as well, with horns and a beard to match. They wore no pants, but on their top was an outfit the conductor of an orchestra would wear. They raised their arms, a baton-like object in one hairy hand, raising their object to reveal it.

Rainbow pointed a hoof at the creature. "WHAT THE HAY IS THAT?"

"A MEMBER OF A SPECIES I CERTAINLY DIDN'T EXPECT TO SEE FOR A LONG TIME, IF AT ALL," was the Doctor's reply.

"THAT DOESN'T ANSWER THE BUCKING QUESTION! WHAT IS IT?"

The Doctor stared at the figure for a moment, as their red eyes glowed a menacing red.

"A Dæmon..."