Chaos Redacted

A Manehattan apartment. Clean and impeccably furnished. In every aspect of the decor, Lyra could tell an artist’s eye for detail was used. Just as it was used for making the blood splatters that stained the walls and floors of the abode.

She could also smell something rotten coming from the work studio, and prayed to whatever Princess that was listening that she would not need to find the source.

The prior occupant had been Coco Pommel. A serial killer that Redacted believed (and Lyra knew) to be connected to a Malformant. The killings had all the hallmarks of a pony under the thrall of one; it was only a matter which. Unfortunately, that question would remain unanswered for the time being, as she had escaped from the Field Agents sent to capture her. Lyra, as one of their best Investigative Agents Harpsichord, was there to find out where she’d gone.

It was important work. Ponies could die. Ponies had already died. With no leads, she was the only one capable of finding a trace of her. At least before more victims appeared.

But she was distracted.

Moondancer was out there. Taken by some unknown fiend. Her friend was in danger and she was—

“How are we going to track her?”

Lyra snapped back to the present. Bon Bon, or rather Agent Sweetie Drops, looked back at her with a stoic expression, work mode already engaged. Someone who didn’t know her would think that she was aloof and disengaged.

As her marefriend, Lyra could see the subtle furrow of her brow that told her Bon Bon was worried about her.

“We’re going to trace her echo,” Lyra said.

“Echo?” Bon Bon scrunched her face. “I presume it has to do with that?”

“The Chorus,” Lyra provided.

“Right, that.”

Bon Bon was not fond of Lyra’s Trauma, or occupation. The conversation had been difficult, and would have been more so if Lyra hadn’t been able to leverage Bon Bon hiding her past as well. Even if it would have been hypocritical, Lyra had still not wanted Bon Bon to know.

However, Director Grim and Director Monolith wouldn’t help her. The prior didn’t like Moondancer, while the latter didn’t like her. Having both of Redacted’s core information hubs unwilling to grant ‘superfluous’ resources meant that she had to find alternate assets to assist her in her investigation of Moondancer’s ponynapping.

Thankfully, her marefriend was both an Agent of the biggest non-Redacted information bureau in Equestria and good friends with the pony she was searching for. Redacted had allowed Bon Bon to be onboarded to the team, but they couldn’t focus on Moondancer until the case regarding Coco was resolved.

All of which was taking far too much time. Lyra should be out looking for Moondancer. Not stuck—

A hoof laid on her shoulder.

“Focus, Lyra.” Bon Bon nuzzled her cheek. “Sooner you do this, sooner we can get to finding Moondancer.”

“Right.” A deep breath. “Let’s get to it, then.”

She turned inwards, calling out to her inner self. The sound reverberated within the depths of her very being before it was answered, manifesting into the real world.

Bon Bon tensed. “I know it's just an aspect of you, but I don’t think I can ever get comfortable with this.”

Faces propagated in one place fighting for limited space. They melded and mixed together into horrific visages. It was pale and semi-translucent, humming a melody that couldn’t be placed. It rotated through an expanse of different expressions. Bliss and pain. Sorrow and rage.

“Aw, don’t say that. It’s friendly.” To prove her point, Lyra gently patted The Chorus. It hummed in appreciation. “See? Friendly.”

Bon Bon’s face expressed her disagreement.

“Spoilsport. Let’s get this investigation started,” Lyra declared.

She released a burst of magic from her horn. The Chorus got louder. Reality rippled. Pale images formed. Impressions of the sounds that come before. Echoes of noise becoming real by the force of her Trauma. A faint outline of Coco singing on her way to her studio. A partially formed hoof over top a creaky floorboard.

Bon Bon approached two distinct face silhouettes in the open front door. One Coco, the other a large stallion. A snap showed the impact of where Coco had hit him.

“This is where the altercation happened,” Bon Bon stated.

“A headbutt to the face, right?” Lyra asked.

“Yes.” Bon Bon looked down the hall where other impacts were found. “She fought her way out. Any doubling back?”

Lyra scanned the echoes. “Not by the looks of it. She didn’t return.”

“So, she ran off.” Bon Bon nodded. “Let’s follow her out.”

The path was easy to follow. Coco had made no effort to be quiet in her escape, which meant there were plenty of echoes to find along the way. She had managed to escape into an adjoining mall then into one of the back alleys after she lost the Agents tracking her, where—

“Are you kidding me?!” Bon Bon stomped a hoof. She snorted in frustration. “What kind of insane luck is that?!”

“...Well, that’s pretty much a deadend, then.” Lyra sighed.

Coco had been traveling along the alley, presumably to blend into the crowd, when a loud bang had drawn her attention and a part of the alley wall had slid open to reveal an illegal escort den. A bucking illegal escort den. What kind of odds even were that?!

They had made their way past the blown lock and into the dimly lit room. The echoes showed that Coco had managed to reach the preset teleportation circle, modified it by unknown means (presumably with the help of the Malformant), and teleported to places unknown.

The thaumic charge was depleted. There was no trace for Lyra to latch onto with her magic, which meant that this whole endeavor was a bust. A pointless waste of time. She tried anyways, lighting up her horn and searching for a trace of anything to gauge her endpoint. She got nothing.

She’d been in Manehattan in for more than a day. Moondancer had been missing for a whole moon before they decided to tell her about it. She could be hurt. She could be trapped. She could be de—

“Calm down, Harpsichord,” Bon Bon said.

She whipped her head toward Bon Bon. “I—”

“Don’t tell me you are because you clearly aren’t. Look, we need to finish the job. Search the room for anything that might have been left behind and ensure that there is no reason for us to stay.” Bon Bon gave a hard glare. “If you lose your cool and do a sloppy job, they won’t give you permission to leave.”

Bonnie was right. She was always right. No matter how frustrated Lyra might be, she needed to focus on the current situation, not resent the circumstances of what had brought her there.

“Okay, Bon- Sweetie Drops,” Lyra relented. “I’ll do a sweep with The Chorus and see if I pick up anything. Could you—”

“On it.” Bon Bon started to search the room.

Lyra returned her focus to the echoes.

A few past ones of the organization that had set up the circle. A no-name smuggling operation that Lyra would report to the proper authorities when able. The discharge that had opened the door, origin seemingly random and impossible to discern. Could be a magic overcharge, but not worth thinking about for too long. A few whispered plans for smuggling through illegal drugs from the operatives again. Coco muttered something before she stepped onto the circle.

She listened in.

“...Delphia,” the echo of Coco said.

Likely her final stop. They would have to—

“I was told to tell you—”

Lyra’s eyes widened.

“Harpsichord?” Bon Bon asked. “What’s—”

“We need to go,” Lyra declared.

“But what about—”

“Buck the investigation. I have a lead,” Lyra said.

“For what?”

“Moodancer,” Lyra declared.

“She’s in Fillydelphia.”