I left the library with a wide smile on my lips. The door closed behind me, and for a moment, I let my gaze sweep over the bustling marketplace. I wasn’t quite sure how much time had passed in the basement. Minutes? Hours? It didn’t matter. Celestia’s sun still hung in the sky, as if nothing had happened. The ponies of the town were going about their everyday business, chatting, shopping, or hurrying through the streets. It was just another normal day in Ponyville. Or, at least, as normal as a day could be in this town.

It wasn’t a secret that there were occasional anomalies in this town. Not least because of the proximity to the Everfree Forest, probably one of the most mysterious and dangerous places in all of Equestria. There were always stories about strange creatures venturing into the town and magical disturbances causing chaos. Sometimes, I wondered how the ponies had ever thought of settling here, especially given how skittish ponies usually were.

The ponies here seemed to feel quite safe, at least. Blissfully ignorant. A strange thought crept into my mind. It would be amusing to see all these ponies realize that the safety they took for granted was nothing but a simple illusion. The thought made my heart beat faster.

“Good morning, Twilight!” called out a pony as they passed by, pulling me from my thoughts. I hadn’t even noticed that I was already heading towards Sugarcube Corner. Well, I had planned to meet all my friends today anyway. So why not pay Pinkie Pie a visit?

I waved cheerfully to the pony and continued on my way to Sugarcube Corner. The familiar, sweet scent of freshly baked goods hung heavy in the air—sugar, cinnamon, vanilla, and warm butter. An inviting mix of aromas. Perhaps I should pick up a cake while I was here. Outside the bakery, I noticed a cream-colored earth pony waving at me with a bright smile.

“Twilight! It’s so good to see you,” called Bon Bon happily. Her smile was warm, almost too friendly. Beside her, a mint-green unicorn turned to face me as if she hadn’t noticed me before. Lyra. Her eyes lit up as she smiled back at me, but there was something in her gaze I couldn’t quite place.

“Oh, hello, Twilight! Are you feeling better today?” Lyra asked in a gentle tone that sounded… concerned.

I returned their smiles and waved back. Was I feeling better? My smile tightened. What an odd way to greet someone. Why that question? “Hello, Bon Bon,” I said finally, meeting her gaze while ignoring my misgivings about the unusual greeting. “And Lyra,” I added with a brief nod. “Of course I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?”

Lyra took a step closer, her smile too sincere, too warm. “Well,” she began, her voice sweet but weighed down with something I couldn’t define, “Pinkie told us that you’ve been… a little distant lately. And then, at the party yesterday…” She paused, searching for the right words. “You seemed… very upset. After you teleported away, everypony was quite worried about you.”

Worried… Always with the worries. Why does everyone always worry about me? Are they talking behind my back? Watching me? Planning something? I felt my heartbeat quicken, but I forced a gentle smile. “That’s… really kind of you,” I said, keeping my voice as smooth and steady as possible. “But honestly, there’s no need for concern. I’m in perfect condition.”

Bon Bon exchanged a quick glance with Lyra, her lips pursing slightly. “If you say so, Twilight,” she murmured finally, her voice soft but with an undertone that made it clear she didn’t truly believe me. She dropped the topic abruptly and raised her head. “So, would you like to treat yourself to something sweet today?” she asked, her tone suddenly far too casual.

My eyes narrowed slightly, but I kept my best smile plastered on. “Actually…” I began in a more-than-friendly tone, “I wanted to have a chat with Pinkie Pie.” I followed it with a sugary grin.

“Oh,” Lyra responded, casting a quick, almost nervous glance at Bon Bon. “Pinkie isn’t here right now. She… she’s out preparing something for her next party.” Lyra’s voice quivered slightly, as if she sensed that something about the situation… wasn’t quite right.

“Is that so?” I asked softly, but my smile remained, even though it felt more like a mask with every passing second. “What a shame… I guess I’ll have to postpone our talk, but…” I let my gaze sweep over the two of them. “Maybe you can help me, can’t you?”

The unease in their eyes was becoming increasingly obvious. Bon Bon and Lyra exchanged a fleeting look before Lyra’s hooves shuffled nervously on the ground. The sweet scent of sugar and freshly baked goods still hung in the air, but the warm, friendly atmosphere no longer matched the thick tension building between us. The very air felt heavier, denser.

“Do you know where she went?” I asked, my voice remaining silky smooth.

Lyra took a small step back, her movements hesitant, almost unconscious. “Not exactly, no. What… what do you need to talk to her about? Maybe we could pass on a message?” Her voice sounded oddly unsure, as if she didn’t trust herself to ask the question.

I stepped forward to close the distance she had created. A gentle smile still graced my lips, but there must have been something different in my eyes, because I saw Bon Bon swallow nervously. “It’s… something private,” I explained with a polite nod. “But feel free to let her know that I’m looking for her if you see her.”

“Of course… we will,” Bon Bon replied quickly, her voice sounding a little too shrill, as if she were trying to cover up a specific uncertainty. She wasn’t convinced, that much was clear. “But it isn’t about yesterday’s party, is it?” Lyra added nonchalantly, though her words sounded anything but relaxed.

A soft giggle escaped me. “Oh, no,” I said, keeping my gaze fixed firmly on Lyra. “Why would you think that? It’s actually about an idea Spike suggested.”

That seemed to relax them a little, but I could still see their ears remaining perked, their bodies tensed. “Why didn’t Spike come with you?” Bon Bon asked, her eyes locking onto mine as if she were searching for something.

I held her gaze and continued to smile softly. “He’s taking a little nap at the library,” I explained calmly, with not the slightest hint of hesitation. “The poor dragon was up all night and needs to catch up on some sleep.”

Technically, it wasn’t a lie. Spike had been up all night, and it was only right that he got some rest now. That I had hit him with a sleeping spell to make sure he wouldn’t interfere… well, Bon Bon and Lyra didn’t need to know that. Some things were better left in the dark.

I watched the two closely, trying to read every reaction in their faces. Bon Bon looked suspicious, her brow furrowing slightly, but she remained silent. Lyra, on the other hoof, twitched her ears nervously before offering a hesitant smile.

“That sounds… reasonable,” Lyra finally said, but her voice wasn’t as firm as she might have liked. They didn’t trust me.

“Reasonable?” I repeated, closing the distance between us once again with a single small step. “That’s good. Reason is important, isn’t it?”

Bon Bon blinked, as if unsure whether she should continue the conversation. “Yes… of course,” she replied hesitantly. Her eyes darted to Lyra, seeking support. “Reason is… always good.”

“Exactly,” I agreed loudly, inclining my head slightly, my smile frozen on my face. “And reason tells us that friends should always be honest with each other, right?”

Lyra nodded nervously. “Of course, Twilight. But… um… what exactly do you mean?”

I took another step closer, now standing directly in front of them. “I just wonder…” my voice was quiet, almost a whisper, “... why you both seem so nervous,” I said with a cheerful outburst, before stepping back.

Lyra flinched at my sudden change in tone, while Bon Bon struggled to come up with an excuse. “Nervous? We… we’re not nervous, Twilight. It’s just… um, a bit chilly today, don’t you think?” She let out a forced laugh, but it quickly died in the silence.

“Chilly?” I repeated, glancing briefly at the clear, sunny sky. “Hm… I find it quite pleasant, actually.” My eyes returned to them, and I noticed them shifting uncomfortably. “So, if it’s not the weather making you nervous… then I wonder: What could it be?”

Lyra threw an uncertain look at Bon Bon before finally sighing. “Twilight… we’re just worried about you. Yesterday, you weren’t… in the best of moods, and today you’re walking around with that… big grin on your face like everything’s perfect.” She tried to put on an encouraging smile, but it was strained. “And… you have… some blood on your coat.” Her voice grew quieter, almost apologetic. “Are you really sure you’re okay?”

Bon Bon nodded in agreement, visibly trying to ease the tension. So, my friends? Then why aren’t you being more honest about your intentions?

I blinked and forced myself to keep the smile on my face. “Blood?” I repeated, as if I didn’t understand the word. My eyes traveled over my coat, where small, almost imperceptible drops of blood were indeed clinging. I thought I had washed it all off. “Oh, that must be from a little cut.” I laughed softly. “I stumbled in the kitchen last night and hurt myself a bit. Nothing serious.”

Lyra and Bon Bon exchanged looks, their nervousness visibly growing. “Twilight… if you ever need to talk, we’re here for you,” Bon Bon said gently. “It’s okay not to feel okay sometimes.”

I stared at them, trying to process their words. Talk? About what? They’re trying to find something out… “Oh, really, I’m fine,” I said quickly, before they could dig any deeper. “You’re just worrying too much.”

Lyra took a step towards me, her expression becoming even more serious. “Twilight, it’s just… after what happened yesterday… and now the blood… We’re just really worried.”

I felt my heart beat faster, and a slight pressure began to build in my chest. They don’t believe me. They’re trying to imply that I… “Why… are you so suspicious?” My voice came out sharper than I intended. “Why can’t you just trust me?”

Bon Bon raised her hooves in a placating gesture. “It’s not that we don’t trust you. We just want to be sure.” Her smile seemed so… fake. “You know, we spoke with Rarity, and she hinted that you’re going through a difficult time.”

Rarity. That traitorous unicorn. I should have known that it wasn’t just my five friends involved in this. “You don’t trust me,” I repeated, putting on a sad expression. “You… think I did something wrong.” I felt the tension inside me grow. Why are they acting like this? What do they know? What do they really want?

Lyra opened her mouth to answer, but before she could speak, I cut her off sharply. “I don’t need pity!” I realized I had shouted. Immediately, I forced a sweet, forced smile back onto my face. “It’s… kind of you to care… really,” I said with exaggerated kindness, though my voice trembled. “But I can handle my own problems.”

At that moment, I could feel their gazes on me. They were like tiny, cold needles piercing my skin, making every nerve twitch. Bon Bon’s eyes, full of concern and suspicious tension, were like the watchful eyes of a guardian waiting for the next misstep. Lyra’s gaze, on the other hoof… It gleamed with that unbearable, all-encompassing pity. A feeling like ice crawled over my spine, raising the hairs on my back, but I kept the smile on my lips—just barely.

They really believed something was wrong with me. That they could help me. That they were the heroes of this story. Bon Bon said something, but I barely heard the words. They faded into the background like distant, meaningless murmurs in my mind. “You think you can help me? Fix me…” A soft giggle escaped me before I could stop it, and it felt simultaneously like a relieved exhale and a looming storm.

Bon Bon and Lyra exchanged nervous, quick glances. The tension in the air was almost tangible, dense enough to feel in the lungs. “Twilight… what… what do you mean by that?” Lyra asked softly, but her voice sounded brittle, like a branch on the verge of snapping under too much pressure.

I shook my head gently, as if I had just heard something amusingly absurd. “You’re so convinced that you can help me.” My voice was soft, but every sentence, every syllable cut through the air like a blade, each word carrying a hidden venom. “But what if I don’t want that? What if… you’re the ones who are wrong?”

“Twilight, we understand…” Lyra’s words caught in her throat as the knife floated just inches from her neck. For a heartbeat, I saw the fear in her eyes—not just simple fear, but a sudden, instinctive terror that freezes the blood in one’s veins and stops the breath in one’s lungs. The fear of death.

The color drained from her face, her pupils widened into black oceans, reflecting the gleaming knife. They say the eyes are the window to the soul, and in Lyra’s gaze, I could see that final spark of trust extinguished and replaced with a terrible realization. She knew now that I was truly willing to hurt her. She wasn’t just shocked. She felt betrayed.

Before I could complete my attack, something struck me hard across the muzzle. Pain shot through my head like lightning, and everything blurred before my eyes. The knife in my magic wavered to the side, leaving a narrow red line on Lyra’s cheek. Bon Bon. The thought forced its way through the haze.

I looked up and saw her standing protectively in front of Lyra, her hooves firmly planted on the ground. Her gaze was resolute, but the slight trembling of her legs betrayed her uncertainty. “Twilight, stop!” Her voice was strong, but fear flickered in her eyes. She knew how serious the situation was.

Lyra, still hiding behind Bon Bon, was breathing heavily. A narrow cut ran down her cheek, and blood left a scarlet trail across her pale face. Her eyes—those wide, tear-filled eyes—seemed to ask me a thousand questions, but I couldn’t and wouldn’t answer any of them.

“Stop? But I’ve only just begun.” A giggle escaped my throat, and I brought the knife back into an attack position at my side. Without hesitation, I moved towards Bon Bon, who remained resolute. I aimed for a direct strike, but at the last moment, she deftly sidestepped, and before I realized it, her hoof connected with my muzzle in a powerful blow. Pain flashed through my head, and I stumbled back. But before I could recover, I felt another strike, this time to my ribs, knocking the wind from my lungs.

So that’s how it is. A normal pony could never react so skillfully. No pony without training could dodge a knife attack like that or land precise strikes like these. My lips twisted into a grim smile, and a sharp laugh escaped my throat. “I knew it!” I shouted, my voice echoing between the buildings.

“You were trained!” I spat, regaining my stance. “You’re one of them! You want to control me, watch me, hold me back! All the ponies in this town are the reason I was taken away from Celestia.”

Bon Bon stood ready, her eyes blazing with determination. “Twilight, you don’t know what you’re doing!” she called, her voice trembling slightly, but she held her ground.

But I barely heard her words. My breathing was heavy, my heart pounded in my chest. The certainty that I was right, that all my doubts were justified, seemed to give me new strength. I attacked again, the knife in my magic held steady and unwavering. Bon Bon dodged, struck again, but this time I stepped back just in time. A dangerous dance began between us, and in that moment, nothing else seemed to exist but the deadly rhythm of our movements.

“You lied to me all this time!” I shouted, lunging forward with another strike that forced Bon Bon to roll sideways. Lyra, still standing behind her, seemed frozen in fear. “You’re part of their plan! You used me, betrayed me!”

My voice was filled with madness and rage, and I could see the mixture of pain and realization in Bon Bon’s eyes as she recognized the depth of my conviction. She knew she’d been exposed. But that no longer made any difference to me. All I felt was a burning clarity amidst the chaos.

“I’m sorry, Twilight,” Bon Bon said, her voice almost gentle, almost regretful, as her hoof shot towards my horn. The blow struck precisely, and I immediately felt the knife fall from my magical aura. A dull pain spread from my horn down to the base of my skull, a throbbing echo that vibrated in every nerve. The horn was the most sensitive part of a unicorn. All nerve pathways converged there. A weak point that every unicorn learned to protect.

A well-placed hit could knock a unicorn unconscious, sometimes even paralyze, and in rare cases, a particularly hard blow could be fatal. But I wasn’t just any unicorn. I was Twilight Sparkle. I was the pony who had channeled the collected power of creation through her horn at the age of six. Bon Bon’s hoof struck me, but to me, it was nothing more than a small shove, an annoying pinch.

“You really think that’s enough to stop me?” I hissed, and a dark smile curled my lips. My horn flared up again as I gathered magic within me. Her strike had reminded me of my magic. But now, I was painfully aware of my power. It felt like an inferno waiting to be unleashed. The pain that had burrowed into my head dissipated like smoke in the wind, pushed aside by the wave of adrenaline and power rising within me.

I saw Bon Bon preparing for another attack, her muscles tensed, her eyes resolute. But she had no idea who she was dealing with. She knew nothing of the true depths of my power, of the darkness that had built up inside me.

“You should have left me alone,” I whispered as my horn glowed once more and the air around us crackled with static energy. My horn blazed with a bright violet light, casting wild shadows on the walls.

And then I unleashed the flames. Purple tongues of fire shot from my horn, roaring like an unleashed beast and ruthlessly consuming everything in their path. Bon Bon had no time to react; the flames reached her, and her screams mixed with the splintering wood of Sugarcube Corner. Lyra, who had stood just a few steps away, was also caught in the blaze. Her silhouette disappeared into the roaring inferno.

The flames spread, relentless, as if driven by their own malevolent will. The sweet scent of pastries and sugar was now completely replaced by the acrid stench of burning flesh and smoldering wood. It was a terrible, all-encompassing smell that clung to my nostrils.

I looked around, and everywhere I saw ponies desperately trying to escape the flames. Some didn’t make it. A mare stumbled through the fire, her mane already consumed by the flames, her skin peeling away to reveal raw, red flesh underneath. She screamed, a shrill, guttural sound that cut through the air as she tried to free herself from the flames. Her cries mingled with the crackling of the fire, and I could hear the pain in her voice. But something within me found this cacophony strangely soothing. As if the world around me had finally stopped opposing me. Finally, I was in control.

A young stallion lay on the ground, trying to pull himself out of the burning ruins of the bakery with a half-functioning foreleg. The flames licked at his body, slowly burning through the fur, melting the skin, and causing blisters to form on his exposed muscles. I could smell the sweet scent of burnt hair and flesh. His screams were almost musical. I watched him, fascinated, almost hypnotized.

I saw them all. Their bodies convulsed like marionettes, their strings pulled in a cruel play as the fire took its toll. I could see the heat coagulate the blood at their wounds, the skin hanging like charred parchment strips in places, their eyes wide open in agony. I heard the screams, the pleading, and I knew they weren’t directed at me but at their own helplessness, their own guilt, from which I was now freeing them.

I turned my eyes away from the lovely scene and turned around. The other ponies in town were staring at me. Their faces were marked by a single emotion: pure, unfiltered fear. But it wasn’t the kind of fear that a helpless victim feels in the face of overwhelming danger—no, this was the fear of the guilty, who knew their masks had fallen.

Their eyes were wide open, their mouths partially agape, as if they were suppressing a scream or searching for words they couldn’t find. Some didn’t even dare to breathe. I could almost hear their thoughts. They all knew their game was over. That I was no longer their little tool.

A pony, a young stallion, took a hesitant step backward, and in that brief moment, his entire body language betrayed the guilt they all carried. They had thought they could control me, manipulate me, keep me away from Celestia. They had thought I was naïve, had fed me their false smiles and hollow words, pretending to be my friends. But now they knew that I had seen through their facade, and they feared the consequences.

“You thought I wouldn’t notice,” I whispered softly, my voice barely more than a breath that drifted across the square. “You thought you could lie to me. But now you see the truth. You’re afraid because you know I’m no longer blind.”

I teleported beside a pony, a mare who looked vaguely familiar. Cheerilee, if I remembered her name correctly. She was the town’s elementary school teacher, always surrounded by laughing foals and wearing a friendly smile. Now, though, her face was a mask of pure terror, her eyes wide with the realization of the inevitable.

“T-Twilight… please…” she whispered. I stared into her eyes. I grinned with joy, and my eyes shone with happiness. I picked up a sharp piece of wood from the burning remains of Sugarcube Corner and held it like a spear. Without hesitation, I drove the wood deep into her chest. I felt the resistance give way, heard the dull, wet sound as the wood pierced her flesh and ribs. Cheerilee gasped for breath, a final wheeze before her eyes went blank. One last, faint heartbeat, and then she fell heavily to the ground.

Only then, as her body hit the ground with a dull thud, did panic break out. Ponies who had been frozen in shock began to scream, their cries shattering the sudden silence like shards of glass. The marketplace turned into a chaotic scene of ponies running frantically, desperately trying to find an escape from this nightmare.

I hummed a strangely familiar melody as I made my way through Ponyville. I was the star of the stage, and Ponyville became the set of my performance. The final act had begun. The flames spread. Purple flames reflected in the windows, and dark smoke covered the sky. Chaos reigned all around me, but inside, I felt a strange calm settle. It was almost… liberating.

I found a pony, a young mare with purple fur, hiding under a table. Her eyes begged me to ignore her. She was a terrible actress. A quick flash of my magic, and a surprised scream turned into wet gurgles and, finally, peaceful silence. I heard her hooves scratching at the ground, her faint choking, until she lay still.

In the distance, I noticed a group trying to barricade themselves in one of the empty buildings. Two ponies were desperately pushing against the door, but my magic was stronger. The door flew open, and I stepped in, the heads of the two ponies smashed by the force. Inside, two young fillies with tear-streaked faces stared at me. They had no time to beg for mercy. Just a whisper, a faint “Please…” that disappeared into the roaring flames I unleashed with a brief thought.

I teleported further, appearing in a narrow, dark alley. At the end of the street, I spotted two familiar ponies: Big Mac and Apple Bloom. The massive stallion was urging his little sister away from the market stalls, away from the blazing flames and the panic. His gaze darted nervously around, and I could see him instinctively heading towards the farm—his safe haven. The sight of their desperation made me chuckle. A raspy, mad chuckle that echoed unnaturally loud in the gloomy alley.

I teleported in front of them, my movements fluid like shadows. Apple Bloom froze, her large eyes widening, and I saw her small body tremble. She opened her mouth, as if to ask a question—perhaps seeking explanations, searching for a logic to excuse this chaos. But as she focused on the sight of my blood-stained coat, her innocence transformed into sheer terror. She understood. She saw it.

“You… you’re—” she began, her voice breaking.

She must have realized she’d been exposed. That I knew who they really were. With a choked gasp, she turned and ran.

Big Mac, however, remained. He stood in my way, his eyes fixed on me, an expression of silent determination. He was strong. Certainly stronger than Bon Bon. Probably one of the strongest ponies in town. But his muscles and strength were meaningless against the power coursing through my veins. A feeling of superiority washed over me.

His serious gaze, that silent determination in his eyes. It was laughable. A harsh, manic laugh burst from me, loud and sharp, as I stared at Big Mac. “Poor, stupid Big Mac,” I sneered between fits of laughter. “Do you really think you can stop me?”

With a swift pull of my magic, I seized him and hurled him with the force of an unleashed storm against a nearby tree. The impact was so violent that the old trunk splintered, and the tree groaned as it tore from the earth before crashing into a nearby house. The walls shuddered under the impact, and a deep rumble echoed across the marketplace. Big Mac crumpled to the ground, his legs buckling under his weight, and I could see the trembling in his limbs as he tried to stand again.

“No!” Apple Bloom’s horrified scream cut through the air, desperate and full of pain. Her small hooves clattered frantically on the cobblestones as she tried to escape the scene. Her scream mingled with the steady hiss of the flames and the distant echoes of panic and chaos, which resounded like a dark melody through the burning town.

“Run, then,” I whispered softly, as I bent over the stallion’s still form, my grin widening as I watched his feeble attempts to rise. His breathing was labored, his body shaking with pain, but in his eyes, that spark of determination still flickered. Pathetic.

Slowly, almost leisurely, I reached for the knife hovering at my side. “Run while you still can,” I murmured, my voice gentle, almost loving. Then I drove the sharp blade with calm precision and unyielding force. The resistance of his flesh beneath the blade felt like cutting through tough leather. A choked wheeze escaped Big Mac before his head was cleanly severed from his shoulders and fell to the ground.

I turned around and stared at the stunned figure of Apple Bloom. She hadn’t moved an inch, as I took a step towards her. I was about to launch my attack when I was interrupted by a confused shout.

“Twilight?”

Author's Note

And it begins. Let's see how it develops in the next chapter.

As always, I look forward to every rating and every comment.