Mission Begins in 10 Seconds

Chapters

Advent
The Administrator
Welcome to Damson City

Advent

ADVENT

A pony sat by its lonesome at a table in the Apple family’s residence, bathed by the flame of a small lantern. The soft scratching of a pencil on paper filled the air. A large sheet, filled with all manners of charts and drawings, lay spread across the tabletop. With a frustrated groan, the pony frantically stroke through a rather lengthy equation. After a moment of analyzing the result, the pony simply took the paper and crushed it with both hooves. The ball of crumpled paper fell to the floor, joining the already large collection there. Then another one. Then one more. Before long, the carpet had been covered in white patches.

A drowsy Applejack drifted out of the shadows of the room, still rubbing the sleep from her eyes. Her mane, free from its usual bands, flowed down either side of her neck in a disheveled manner. She distractedly looked around, unable to focus on anything in particular.

The Apple family's living room was perhaps one of the most organized, cleanest of Ponyville - or rather, the peripheries of Ponyville. Considering the apple business that the family of Earth ponies owned, this usually came off as a great surprise to their visitors. When you live with a pony like the elder Granny Smith, you tend to abide, by force, to the continuation of that tidiness.

It was therefore not a surprise that the room could reach that state, given the old mare's absence. The guilty one was, much to Applejack's surprise, not Applebloom, but Big Macintosh. Unfortunately for the mare, it wasn’t the first night her brother did this. It was just the last drop.

That engineering program in Manehatten is fryin' his brains, she thought as she watched the red-coated stallion scribble something on the immense manuscript. He skillfully held the pencil in his mouth, jotting down numbers and complicated equations with no numbers at all. Darn fancy mathematics.

"AJ, mind fetchin' mah other projects?" he asked without turning around.

"Ya kiddin' me? Ye've been sittin' on that there pillow for th'past five hours, 'n ye're expectin' me to go'n fetch stuff for ya?"

Macintosh rotated on the seat so he could face his sister. Had it happened at another time of the day, the playful grin tugging at the corners of his mouth wouldn’t have bothered Applejack in the least. "Ya sound upset. Somethin' up, sis?"

"Macintosh, take a good look around ya! The whole darn floor is littered with yer papers! The hay are ya writin' that ya gotta keep throwin' it away?"

"A pie dispenser," he answered nonchalantly. Applejack's brow furrowed. She really wasn't in a playful mood, the stallion thought with a sigh. He pushed the pencils and rulers away with a hoof and lifted the large paper up so that she could see its contents. "It’s a magic-powered cider squeezer. Now, Ah know what yer thinkin'," he added as soon as Applejack opened her mouth. His smile wilted. "But AJ, things ain't gettin' any easier 'round here. After t’day, granny’s gonna know if she can lug stuff around’r not. ‘N we both know Applebloom ain't much of a cook, or even an apple-bucker."

"Ah know that,” she sighed, frowning as well. “But she's still young, Macintosh. Give'er some time. Ah didn't start apple-buckin' 'till Ah was older. It ain’t ‘cause we’re one season off that business’ll crash."

The stallion covered his snout with a hoof. They had discussed that subject before, especially after almost losing – or rather, temporarily losing – their farm to the Flim Flam brothers. His sister had never been an apologist of that sort of technology, and the incident didn’t help at all. "Applejack, what's it that ya got 'gainst a helpin' hand?"

"It's the lackluster job them brothers' machines did.”

Here she goes again… Big Mac thought. Always the same excuse.”

“Fat load'a good their machine did! Cost us fifty barrels'a cider we could'a used!" The lack of response from her brother caused Applejack to raise an eyebrow in indignation. "'N ye're one ta talk! What's with yer sudden interest in engineerin'? Ya ain't even good at math!"

"Maybe t’was time Ah learned, then," he simply answered, placing the paper back on the table. "Engineerin' runs in the family, AJ. Ya remember dad'n his stories 'bout his grandpa."

"Yeah, ‘n how he lost his mind over a pile'a fool's gold."

"T'ain't no fool's gold, Applejack."

"Pfft, yeah?” Applejack narrowed her eyes. This she had to hear. “Then why don't'cha tell me where all the money he got from sellin' it went?"

"He...” Big Mac averted her gaze. “He didn't sell it."

Applejack was going to answer, but thought better of it. She clearly recalled the stories their father told them. He used to say that their great-great-grandfather once got a pile of golden stones from a deal with some really weird mare. He hadn't explicitly told them that they had been sold, but given how little use their family could give it, she had always assumed that her ancestor immediately searched for wealth. More than that, the whole deal had always sounded like a complete sham to her since they weren't exactly swimming in money. Not now, not fifty or seventy years ago, not ever. Their financial records didn’t lie.

"Whadda'ya mean, ‘he didn't sell it’?"

As though it was a dangerous piece of information, Big Mac took a precautionary look around and hinted Applejack to come closer. The mare was beginning to find this suspicious, but approached him regardless. The solemn expression that Big Mac bore told her it was definitely no laughing matter.

"Ya can't sell what he got anywhere, Applejack," he spoke in a hushed tone. "Cavalium can't be sold anywhere in Equestria. Nopony'll give ya a bit for it."

“Ya can't?” Applejack gasped. The fact that they could have had a potential criminal in their family just generations ago didn’t please her in the least. Her doubtful stare slowly changed to a concerned one. "But… What'd he do with it then?"

"He stashed it," he promptly answered with a discreet smile, even with some enthusiasm. "Took it all somewhere, and jus' left it there."

"'N ya know this... How?" Applejack asked after a moment of consideration. The stallion's smile grew wider.

"'Cause Ah found it. That..." he gestured at the rest of the papers on the table. Some of them looked worn out, with their yellow, tattered edges. "'N all'a his projects. He was gonna create them with the Cavalium, but died before he could. Like this three-legged thingy here."

Big Mac picked up a roll and unfurled it, revealing the blueprints for some sort of machine that held itself on three supports. There was a small tube on the front of its body, which Applejack best described as a small barrel with a box attached on its side.

"See this?" he continued with the most excitement Applejack had ever seen from him. He was pointing at a horseshoe mark on the machine's side, just next to the head of a large bolt. An arrow pointed straight from it to a pair of horseshoes that were in the blueprint's corner. "Ya fix it by hittin' it with these here horseshoes, kinda like apple-buckin'! They're made'a Cavalium, too!"

Applejack took a moment to digest the information. Hitting something would fix it? That made even less sense than Pinkie. And that was saying a lot. Big Mac’s smile faded with every moment that passed without an answer from his sister. “Ya really dun’ like this kinda doohickey, huh, AJ?”

"Ah dunno... Ah jus’…” The mare rubbed the back of her neck. “Sorry, Ah jus’ dun' really like the look'a that thing... 'n ya havin' that sorta 'illegal' whatsit don't make me any more comfortable."

"It's just a drawing, sis. T'ain't gonna kill nopony." He rolled the paper and turned to place it back on the pile. "'Sides, Ah'm still tryin' to get what it does. 'n it ain't 'illegal'. Grandpa wrote in his notes that he jus' couldn't give it away. T'was too precious to be wasted."

Now that her brother’s back was facing her, Applejack’s frown worsened. Tenacity was definitely a trait they shared. It was impossible to make an Apple give up if they were confident that it would work. She awkwardly shuffled her hooves. “Jus’ dun’ stay up too late, ‘kay, Mac?”

The stallion gave a low grunt of acknowledgement, confirming what Applejack already knew. After a loud yawn, she turned tail and left the room, sleepily uttering, “Good night, big brother.”

Big Mac smiled weakly. He moved away from the sheet. What a beauty, he thought, casting a fond gaze at the product of his work. Applejack could complain all she wanted, but if he was able to build the machine he had designed, then the farm’s productivity would skyrocket. A great breakthrough that could only benefit them.

The observation deck of Canterlot Castle had always been a favorite of Princess Luna's. It wasn't because Equestria was a peer of the telescope away, or because she could issue an order to all of her subordinates (whichever ones were awake at the time).

It was because it was the closest point in Canterlot to the sky, to her stars and her moon. It allowed her to simply stand and admire the work she did every night. Her dedication never faltered; she gave one night the same love she gave the previous, and would give the next, with no exceptions.

Tonight, the balcony served a different purpose, one she’d come to use much more often since her return. It was the only place in the castle where she could be practically alone, without the constant surveillance of the royal guards or the repetitive, trivial questions of her servants. Just her and the moon.

She flexed her majestic, dark blue wings, and breathed a relieved sigh. Nighttime was rather uneventful in the surrounding areas of Canterlot. Perhaps the presence of royalty somehow frightened thieves and criminals.

Her ears twitched at the creaking of her room’s door. She ignored it; it was likely just another servant asking what her breakfast should be the following week.

The light clopping of hooves on the marble floor of her room was carried to her by the light breeze. She closed her eyes out of exasperation. She had clearly stated that she was not to be disturbed, in any way or manner, while she was on the balcony. Perhaps if she didn’t turn, the mare – because it seemed like more than half of the servants in that castle were mares – would go away.

Then they kept getting closer. Luna tried to control her temper, going so far as pawing at the ground with a hoof. Then they stopped right behind her.

She began to turn, ready to give the intruder a lesson. “Did I not make it clear that I do not wish to be disturb- Oh! Dearest sister, whatever are you doing awake?”

“They insisted that the terms of the new agricultural contract were discussed to the most insignificant detail,” Celestia spoke as she walked onto the balcony, stopping by Luna’s side. Her exhaustion was patent in her voice and in her movement. The alicorn of the sun took a deep breath and leisurely exhaled before looking up at the firmament. She couldn’t help smiling. “But enough of that. The stars are beautiful tonight, sister. You never cease to amaze me with your art.”

“I am glad you enjoy it, Celestia,” the other alicorn answered, returning the gesture.

The two stood in silence for some time, simply taking in the beauty of the starry skies above. Celestia truly did appreciate her sister’s work; she had never managed to get the hang of producing constellations. Instead, she reutilized the same one over and over again. Tired of standing on all fours, the older sister sat down, and the other sibling followed suit.

It wasn’t until Luna let out a stifled sigh that Celestia’s eyes tore away. “Is there something wrong, Luna?” she said, embracing her sister with a wing. Still, Luna looked away.

“It is nothing of concern, dear sister. I was simply thinking back to… to the time when our feud took place.” Celestia’s grin began to disappear. “I am afraid that history might repeat itself…”

“It will not,” she promptly answered. Her voice carried a certain sense of warmth that Luna had always found soothing. Celestia gave a weak tug with a wing at her sister. “I did not act rationally at the time, Luna. I was unable to see that you were suffering. To stay in the shadow...” She nudged Luna’s cheek. “I will make sure that it never happens again.”

"Do you... Do you really promise that?"

With another gentle nudge, Celestia pulled her sister closer and whispered, "You have my word."

"'N that's a wrap," the eldest of the Apple siblings muttered, gathering all of the papers up in a single, neat pile. The sight of the blueprints underneath brought a renewed smile to the stallion's face.

Big Mac casually glanced at a nearby window. The very first rays of sunlight shone through it, granting the airborne specs of dust a color and marking the beginning of a new day. He took a deep breath of the fresh, morning air and popped his neck, finding it painfully stiff after hours on end in the same position. But he didn't mind. It had been the first time in a long while that he hadn't slept all night just because he was enjoying himself.

Designing these machines, drawing out all these plans... it filled him with a joy he could only compare to apple-bucking. Once the first few lines were written on the clean, checkered blue paper, he couldn't find the will in him to stop. He had to continue, to see this new project come to fruition.

One by one, he rolled the parchments and stored them in several document tubes, only to discover that there weren't enough of the containers. He hadn't expected to create so many in just one night.

"Guess ya'll'll be sharin' a home. 'least 'till Ah find the time to..." he paused in mid sentence. Until he found the time to what exactly? Another, more thoughtful look at his plans told him that there was little application at the farm for many of them. From small, motion-sensitive alarms to large scale, compressed air extinguishers, there was an obvious potential for these machines that was much better applied elsewhere in Equestria.

He took one of the remaining sheets in his hooves and studied it briefly. It was still incomplete, but the design resembled an entirely metallic hoof. Riddled with wires and gauges, he was certain that many amputees would be thankful. He grinned at the thought.

"Y'know... maybe Ah should show ya'll to somepony." He placed the paper on the table, completely unfolded. It was his favorite, he decided. His own, little invention. "Ah bet them fat cats at Canterlot'll like to see ya."

The Administrator

THE ADMINISTRATOR

Piles of dusty, thick tomes floated overhead across a classroom. They struck fear in the eyes of the students who watched them fly by. Upon reaching the other end of the room, the books were relieved of the magical aura that surrounded them, causing the table to shiver on its legs as they crashed upon it.

"These," the unicorn mare who carried them spoke, walking behind the table while composing her purple-rimmed glasses with her magic, "compose the entire collection of books S.S. Belle wrote about long distance communication using a consistent string of sound-based magic.

"Now, you remember that, in the last class, we were working on a device that could carry sound from one place to another. We learned that visual content cannot be transferred with magic; only sound. This time, I want you to make a report on that experiment, and why visual content doesn't work with magic."

The students gave an exasperated groan. Their teacher grinned; she had long since expected that to happen. It was, she'd learned, a typical 'defense mechanism' that ponies who shunned work used. The only approach was to be more stubborn than them.

A stick of chalk, enveloped in a purple glow, floated up and scratched the blackboard, leaving behind the first few words of a sentence. At first, the sound of the chalk tapping the board was barely audible over the riotous voices of her pupils.

As the white lines persistently kept appearing on the black background, however, the clamor began to die down. Soon, the only sound in the room was the faint grating of the white stick, releasing clouds of colorless dust as it went. The mare closed her eyes so as to focus on the sound alone.

"This is a real waste of time," one of the younger fillies whispered to her colleague. The teacher's ears twitched and her eyes snapped open behind the spectacles. She easily recognized who the student was from the way she leaned towards another desk. The other filly gave a small nod. "Why can't we just make ourselves smarter with Cavalium?"

The sudden, insufferable squeaking of the chalk brought tears to the eyes of some students while others just cringed or covered their ears. The two fillies immediately sat straight. Their faces irradiated guilt - the kind of expression a thief would take on after being spotted.

Unlike them, their teacher bore an unreadable expression. She stood still, studying her classroom with her eyes. Her gaze finally locked with the disorderly filly's.

"If you have the bits for it," she said with the tiniest tinge of displeasure, "then perhaps you should."

"Hum, miss?" a colt timidly called from the front rows. "You're from Ponyville, right? That's where they found Cavalium for the first time, ten years ago, isn't it?" The teacher was about to refute her birthplace, but thought better of it. She prompted the colt to continue with a nod. "Then, hum... Why didn't you go get some of it too?"

The mare's mouth hung slightly open in reflection. The stick was no longer touching the board, having already left behind a rather ugly, squiggly line due to a distraction of the pony who held it. The delay in her answer sent the colt into a fit of panic. "I-I didn't mean to-"

"It's a perfectly reasonable question," the teacher quickly stated. "Of course you would wonder that. I mean, why doesn't Twilight Sparkle, the prized student of Princess Celestia, just take some stone and suddenly solve all problems in the world?"

An eraser levitated up and began to clean the board. Twilight waited for it to be empty before continuing, "Do you know what Cavalium does to you?"

"It makes you smarter?"

"And stronger!"

"And you can sell it for lots of bits!"

The flurry of answers continued. Twilight was unsure whether she should smile or frown at her students' naivety. She simply allowed them to throw random guesses into the air - most of them utterly absurd. When she found it was enough, she raised a hoof, demanding silence in the room. She had been their teacher for two years, so they knew that their best option was to not argue.

"Thank you. And no, Cavalium doesn't make you smarter. Or stronger. Cavalium." The stick resumed its duties and scribbled the name on the blackboard. "A highly transformative and adaptable metal discovered and first documented approximately ten years ago in Ponyville by Macintosh Apple. Extensive research has proven that it can assume the properties of most every other element known to ponykind - even some we have yet to properly study. It's because of it that teleportation spells were made accessible to Earth and Pegasus ponies, among others."

What she went on to describe to the stupefied young ponies was almost completely drawn from the memories of all of the events she had been invited to. All of them consisted of the same topic: describing and discussing the properties and benefits of Cavalium. Always an adept of forwarding the cause of science, Twilight gladly accepted the first invitations.

It was in the midst of these studies that she discovered just how great her distaste for the versatile metal was. "To answer your question, Pumpkin, there's a simple reason for why I don't use Cavalium." She was now looming over the colt. The way she faced him eye-to-eye made the receiving end shudder. "It's cheap. It's an easy way to get to places.

"When ponies are given something, they always end up wanting more. And more. And more. Until there's nothing left. You give them a hoof, and they'll end up wanting your whole leg."

Trust me... she thought. I know what I'm talking about.

"Miss Sparkle! Miss - Huff, excuse me! - Miss Sparkle!"

Twilight's ears perked up at the call of her name. She raised her eyes from the little magazine in her front of her and smiled upon spotting a brown-maned stallion that pushed and shoved his way through the crowd. He dragged a hefty-looking saddlebag on his back, a habit Twilight still couldn't understand. "Time Turner! You're late!"

"I know, I know!" the stallion spoke in his signature Bridlish accent, sitting across Twilight's table. He was perhaps the only one Twilight had ever heard with such a drawl, which made him all the more unique in her eyes. The saddlebag slid off his back, and he breathed out in relief. His neck popped with every movement of his head. "Those chemistry kids! Giving me a real hard time, they were!"

"At least they didn't want you to talk about Cavalium!"

"Like hay they didn't! Made me promise I'd order a sample from the Macintosh Hills first thing tomorrow!" Twilight gave a gasp of mock incredulity, to which he replied by looking away and straightening his bow tie. "Anyway, that's taken care of. So you had a flash seminar about it with the lil' ones?"

"Yeah," the mare sighed, tracing the magazine with a hoof. Time Turner's derisive smile wilted into a frown.

"Something wrong, miss Sparkle?"

She flashed him a grin, one that he would have missed had he blinked. "You can call me Twilight, Time Turner."

"Alright, Twilight, is something the matter?"

"You know I don't really like all the fuss they're making about Cavalium, right?" The stallion nodded earnestly. "Well, they're giving the wrong ideas to the younger ponies. Some of my students thought they could get smarter with it!"

"They're just colts and fillies, Twilight. They're just saying what they hear around." Twilight had zoned out halfway through his speech. A million thoughts popped in her mind when he rested his hoof over hers and gently rubbed its back. She briefly considered pulling it away, destroying the tender scene and saving her from a possible embarrassment. Her mind didn't obey, of course, and only surrendered when Time Turner's voice pierced through her thoughts. "Twilight? Are you quite alright?"

"I-I, huh, yeah! Everything's just fine! Ahahah, what gave you that silly idea?"

The stallion smiled sympathetically in response to her sheepish, exaggerated grin. Really smooth, Twilight, she mentally chided herself.

"Oh! I almost forgot!" he suddenly exclaimed. His voice carried the same peppiness it had when he arrived.

Despite that, she couldn't help but feel a touch disappointed when Time Turner removed his hoof so as to reach for the saddlebag. When he turned forward again, he was clenching a plain, white envelope with his teeth. Twilight gave a little giggle and grabbed it with her magic. "I'll never get why you don't use your hooves for that."

"Forshe of habit," he said before releasing his grip on the paper container. "Honestly, why does this always have such a foul taste?"

"Now you sound like an old friend of mine."

"From Ponyville?"

One of Twilight’s ears twitched at the sound of the name. She stopped fiddling with the lid. Upon noticing the way her entertained stare just withered down to a thoughtful one, Time Turner immediately wished he could take his words back. "Yeah... Ponyville..." she muttered. Before the stallion could say another word, the envelope was ripped open and the letter slipped out.

What she noticed first, aside from the immense length of the text, was that the blue silhouettes of three diamonds adorned the top of the page. The acronym 'R.E.C.' was written over them. "This logo..."

The unicorn took to reading the letter proper with renewed interest. The more she read, the more confused Time Turner became about her reaction. When the paper finally fluttered down to the table, she sought for answers in his eyes. "Where... Where did you find this?"

"Ditzy brought it in and told me it was for you. Is everything alright?"

She shoved the paper against Time Turner's snout, forcing him to pull it away until it was at a legible distance.

"The rec's want to hire you?" Twilight motioned towards the letter with her head. After a closer inspection, Time Turner gasped surprisedly, "Invited by the chairmare herself, no less!"

"Time Turner, do you know what R.E.C. stands for?"

"Yeah, it's, huh, Rarity Excavations Company. What does that have to do with..." The increasingly annoyed look Twilight was giving him seemed to make the gears in his head shift. "Wait, are you saying that this Rarity chairmare is the same Rarity as..."

"That's Rarity. The previous owner of Carousel Boutique."

"Really?" There was silence as Time Turner faced Twilight with a puzzled look. “Wait, I thought you were friends?”

Twilight opened her mouth to retort right off the bat, but found herself unable to conjure the words for it. Instead, she settled with hiding her face behind her mane, away from his eyes. Then, she inhaled once and spoke, “We were. I want to think we still are.”

“I’m afraid I don’t get it. You’re the Elements of Harmony! Isn’t there some magicky, friendshipy thingy connecting you?”

“Look,” she sighed, turning forward again. “Do you know why I left Ponyville in the first place?” The stallion shook his head. The question had never seemed relevant; he’d always assumed she was just pursuing her career – a very good one, at that. “It’s because they had to uproot the library. They uprooted a two hundred year old tree. And you know why?” Again, the stallion denied his knowledge. Her tone grew aggressive, fueling the fire that burned in her eyes. “Because they detected a Cavalium deposit right underneath it. I lost my home just so they could build a proper shaft to transport everything. But the worst part...

“The worst part is that they found nothing. A false positive.” Time Turner fought the urge to clean the lonesome tear that rolled down the side of her snout. She was shivering, and that took an obvious toll on her voice. “And you know who detected the Cavalium?”

The question didn’t require much thought from the stallion. As far as he was aware, not many ponies in Equestria were capable of tracing precious elements. Steeling himself with a sigh, he answered, “…Rarity.”

Twilight nodded. It was an almost unnoticeable, cheerless gesture. “She didn’t know how to apologize for a long time. So she offered me part of her income, and allowed us to stay in her house.” She realized she hadn’t spoken in plural for a while. Though she saw her ‘little’ assistant every day, they no longer shared the same room for any longer than a couple of hours. She tried to smile, recalling how quickly Spike had accepted her apologies at the time. “Then somepony offered her a job. A high-ranking one. The head of her very own company, just so she could find more Cavalium for them.”

“Macintosh Co..”

“We just… grew apart from there on. She still gave me bits for some time, at least until I decided to move to Canterlot. I… I haven’t seen her since.”

Time Turner took the letter in his hoof and read it one more time. “The position she’s offering you is very good, though. An… administrator?”

“One of the highest levels in the company,” she flatly answered. “They supervise all the activity in the mining areas.”

“Well, maybe she wants to redeem herself.” The stallion good-natured speech had no effect on her this time. “Come on, Twilight. You used to be friends! Don’t friends forgive each other?”

Twilight felt like restating how her experience in the fields of friendship was the result of years of field research, or rather, of living it, just so she could prove his point wrong. Alas, there was truth in his words, and she had to admit that sometimes ponies made mistakes. Rarity had tried to make up for her mistake in the past, and had succeeded to some extent. Perhaps it was just a matter of letting her try again.

Yet there was something else that kept her from simply accepting the proposal. It wasn’t the pony offering it, and it certainly wasn’t because of her salary. If she accepted this, she’d be embracing the one thing she’d been fighting: the rush for Cavalium. To supervise the wellbeing of Cavalium extraction was to ensure the proliferation of the activity.

“I… I can’t do it,” she declared with a tone of finality, rising to her hooves.

“Twilight…”

“I’m sorry, Time Turner. But it’s not right.”

The stallion still rose from his seat to try and catch up to her, calling her name and pleading her to stop. It was all to no avail, as Twilight was long gone, somewhere away from the letter.

Regardless of how joyous a day could turn out, Twilight always considered that arriving to her tower was the most pleasurable thing of all. Today, that went double. It felt like returning to her very own house, her realm where trouble didn’t exist. Past the door, all of her worries were washed away. They would patiently wait for the next morning to assault her again.

Above all, it was one of the few opportunities she had to socialize with Spike during a day, save for the random encounters in the school halls. Unlike the repulsive smell of the cafeteria’s usually nauseating mixture they called food, a soft, saliva-inducing scent wafted from their kitchen almost every night. Twilight knew that she’d find whatever stew the dragon cooked far more appetizing than most things that were shoved down her throat.

Much to her annoyance, today wasn’t one such day. Though most of the torches were lit up, Spike was nowhere to be seen. For a pony who lived in a circular tower with two floors and a library on the top one, knowing whether she was accompanied or not was an easy task. She couldn’t hear the cackling of any culinary utensils either, which meant that she’d have to wait a little longer before satisfying her hunger.

“Spike?” she tentatively called, letting the large, wooden doors creak to close behind. The echo of her voice was the only answer she got. Maybe he’s out studying late.

Realizing that the meal she’d longed for all day wouldn’t arrive any time soon, she groaned and let the pair of saddlebags slide off her back. The flaps flew open the moment they hit the ground, and a torrent of books coursed out of the bags.

She ran a mental verification on her list of tasks for the day. Aside from the smaller chores, such as assignments and class preparations, there was little left for her to do. Mondays were always like this. In times like these, the best solution to her problem rested in the second floor. Why she kept a library inside her own tower, Spike was never able to explain. Twilight knew the reason, and it went far beyond a simple desire to read.

Above all, it reminded her of Ponyville. She vaguely recalled the last time she visited the town. It had been shortly after leaving for Canterlot. The way the rush for Cavalium had drastically changed the once peaceful settlement shocked Twilight out of her mind. In the middle of that landscape of mud and newly-built wooden barracks, she found solace in the fact that her closest friends, sans Rarity, had all stayed behind. All of them had offered her a way to stay in Ponyville. Still, she had rejected all of the suggestions.

The contract from the REC inevitably returned to haunt her thoughts. Rarity's resurfacing just so she could offer her a position - an extremely important one, no less - left obvious doubts lingering in the teacher's mind. Even more so when it was related to something like Cavalium. Twilight winced at the thought.

It was when she was just a few steps short from the library floor that a voice took her by surprise. The mere sound of it stung like cold rain on a warm day. "How are the blank flanks behaving, miss Sparkle?"

If the use of the offensive adjective hadn't been enough of an indicator of who this pony was, then seeing a pale magenta mare leaning against one of the tables confirmed all of Twilight's suspicions. "How did you get in here, Diamond Tiara?"

The mare snorted shortly. "I have my ways. Your assistant wasn't really careful enough to leave the keys in a safe spot, either."

"I'm calling the guards."

"I wouldn't do that, Twilight," Diamond Tiara quickly noted. "You never know what might happen to some ponies if you do."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I thought you would have figured that out by now. Let me make it clearer for you." She reached out for a dossier and retrieved from it a small pile of photographs. With a swift movement of her head, she spread them across the tabletop.

Confused, Twilight took a couple of cautious steps towards them. Diamond Tiara grinned mischievously as Twilight's eyes widened to the size of dinner plates. The subjects in the pictures were varied, but she recognized every single one of them. Spike, her brother, her old friends, Time Turner... her parents. "Wha... What are these for?"

"Safety measures, of course. Oh! And I believe you forgot this in the cafeteria," the younger mare added with an air of coolness. She produced the REC contract from within the archive and held it high up so Twilight could see it. Her annoyed reaction was every bit as satisfying as Diamond Tiara had expected it to be.

"Oh. So that's what this is about." All traces of happiness were wiped off her face upon noticing Twilight's abrupt change of mood. The unicorn was actually smiling. "Well, bad news, Diamond Tiara. I already rejected the offer. So you can go tell your father that-"

"No, you blasted moron!" Twilight stepped back at the outburst, and backed even further away when Diamond Tiara tossed the contract and stood on the table. "Daddy knew you wouldn't accept the offer, so he decided to make you accept it!"

She stomped the table and the dossier popped open. A stack of thinner folders, overflowing with papers, was revealed along with a pair of tickets.

"Now listen carefully, miss Sparkle, because I might not give you a second chance. You will accept that contract. In there are two train tickets to Ponyville, one for you, and another one for your assistant. Should you choose not to accept it..." She stepped on the picture of her parents. "They go first."

“Mo-- Miss Belle?”

As carefully as she could, the silver-coated earth pony mare eased the great door shut with a hind leg. She was now treading on the smooth azure carpet of her employer's office, surrounded by the eternally watchful faces of the countless paintings that adorned the walls. She shivered at the realization that very few ponies had ever set hoof on that mat. In spite of the strong flames that crackled in the fireplace, she felt cold.

An intimidating wooden table awaited at the farthest end of the carpet. Behind it sat a suited unicorn mare. Her face was partially obscured by her brilliant blue mane, which made a perfect match with the room's overall color scheme. The book she read appeared to have her undivided attention even as the visitor drew closer.

"I trust you bring news about the administrator spot in Damson City, Silver Spoon?"

Silver gulped and nodded repeatedly. "Yes, miss Belle. Twilight Sparkle accepted the terms of the contract."

The mare ruminated on the information for a moment. She remained fixated on the book. Then, with the slightest of smiles, she spoke, "Marvelous. You are dismissed."

Offering the mare a curt nod, Silver turned to leave. Her departure was cut short by the clearing of a throat and a question. "What of Filthy Rich?" her employer asked.

"Hum, mister Filthy Rich is on line two, miss Belle," Silver Spoon answered, pointing at the red, intermittent bulb on the desk's telephone. "He didn't sound happy."

Welcome to Damson City

It's all my fault! I should have known!

Now listen'ere, sugarcube! T'ain't nopony's fault!

But if I hadn't...

Ya did what ya thought was right! Dun matter if... if...

Told ya, AJ!

Rainbow's right, Applejack! If I hadn't left, if... if Rarity hadn't left! Maybe none of this would have happened!

Psh! If she wants to leave so badly, then let her! ...can't do much more damage than she's already done...

That ain't no way to talk to'er!

A lot of ponies lost their loved ones today, AJ! All because two fillies couldn't get along!

You hear me, Twilight? The only reason Pinkie did it was because you left!

WELCOME TO DAMSON CITY

BANG!

The chunky, hard-hatted stallion backpedaled away from the multitude of cavities that marked the dirt at his hooves, as did another stallion with a clear, bulged imprint of a hoof on the side of its face.

A shotgun clicked twice as its owner, a mare whose orange coat was heavily marred by the mud, pulled its farthest trigger back to pump it. An empty magazine clattered to the ground. The hatless stallion immediately cringed at the sight of the stetson atop the armed mare's head. "Now listen'ere, sugarcube, ye best be on yer way before this'ere situation gets ugly!"

The hard-hat-clad stallion, on the other hoof, didn't appear to have been fazed by the threat. His mouth contorted into a derisive grin. "Pfft! What are you gonna d-"

"This gun ain't got blanks, sugarcube," the orange mare continued as she pressed the end of the shotgun in her hooves against the stallion's snout. "Ah can guarantee ya'll'll have a real bad day if it even scrapes yer hoof."

The gun's proximity seemed to have successfully intimidated the stallion, given his nervous gulp. The pickaxe in his hoof clattered loudly against the ground as he stepped back. "Y-You can't just shoot ponies!"

"See this?" The mare pointed at the star-shaped, gilded badge that was pinned to the front of her cowpony hat. "This here badge says Ah can if Ah need to. 'N ye're startin' to give me plenty'a reasons to do it."

The stallion stared her down, as though it would make her admit it was just some sort of twisted joke. When Applejack's stare remained as firm as before, he decided it was time for a different approach. "I'm filing a complaint to VanHoover about this!"

"If ya got any problems, why don't'cha jus' solve'em with me, right here, right now?" The orange mare dropped the gun and positioned herself to fight. She put up her smuggest grin. "You'n me, pony ta pony."

The deal seemed to please the stallion. He tossed the hard hat away and stomped the ground once. "You asked for it, missy-"

The stallion's skull cracked as soon as Applejack's hind hooves made contact with his head. He reeled back, holding his muzzle in pain. He could feel the warmth of the red fluid that stained his fetlocks. Applejack, on the other hoof, continued to sport a confident smirk.

"Ya dun' seem like much of a pony t'me! That all ya got, sugarcube?"

The taunt had been every bit as successful as Applejack had hoped. The stallion leaped forward in hopes of head butting the mare, but his face only met the mud on the ground.

"I know a certain administrator that'll love to know what you're up to, missy," he cackled in his daze, still looking around in search of Applejack. "Not even your brother will save you from that one!"

"Ah didn't get'ere through favors, ya know?" The stallion's eyes went wide. She was standing right behind him. Applejack's hooves kicked his rear as soon as he got up to escape, leaving him to plant his face back on the floor and his muzzle stuck in the puddles of dirt again. The mare walked up to his side and placed a hoof on top of his head. "So Ah damn better not hear squat from the cranky missy back in VanHoover."

"Hey sheriff!"

Applejack groaned. Not many ponies called her that. In fact, she had told just about every pony who had to not call her that. There was always an odd one out, however. And she was fluttering just above her head, with her rainbow-hued mane tied up in a ponytail and a triumphant smirk plastered on her features. "Ah told ya not to call me that, RD."

"Yeah yeah, whatever. Need ya back at the train station," the pegasus pony continued, setting down on the mud with an obnoxious splash that hurdled even more dirt onto both of their coats. "There's a new pony on their way here from Canterlot."

"New pony?"

"Yeah, they're sending a new fancy pants pony to oversee the mine shafts."

Applejack gave a chuckle. "Ya really dun' like the administrators, do ya?"

She didn't, she thought regardless of her answer. Not many in Ponyville did. The administrator was just an excuse to make workers in the mines work harder and faster. The selected pony was just a metaphorical whip that lashed out on them every time they felt like production levels needed to go higher.

"Only good administrator that was ever around was Mayor Mare," Rainbow answered. "Then they just kicked her for giving us proper meals."

"Ya ain't got much to complain about. Don't the pegasi get an admin o'their own?"

"As long as Clousdale decides that they're still in control of Ponyville's weather." Rainbow sighed resignedly. "Just leave it to the fat cats back in Canterlot to take over that too."

Despite herself, Applejack giggled. "Maybe ye'll like this one. Hay, I'll have ya know them administrators're good fer keepin' tabs on all of'em troublemakers."

"Pfft, yeah, right. Likely story."

They fell silent as they trotted through the streets. Surprisingly, Rainbow had joined her in the trek. The mud squished under their hooves at very step. The streets were filled with ponies. A carriage struggled to make its way through the crowd, flinging balls of dirt at anyone around it with its wheels. Broken halves of bottles stuck out from the ground, prone to be stepped on by some unlucky pony. If it depended on the ponies in any of the city's watering holes, then more bottles would soon join these.

While the pegasus at her side watched the wooden cottages go by through half-lidded eyes, all while giving off long, bored sighs, Applejack's ears were dutifully pointed up like those of a watchdog. Her eyes were focused on the ponies that she had deemed constant troublemakers. They hung out together in the shade of any alley, ready to pick up a fight with any pony that approached them. They thought themselves tough, grew beards and wore their filthy mining uniforms like the princess wore the crown. It was for ponies like these that Applejack kept extra bullets in the brim of her hat.

Once they were far away from her, Applejack dropped her facade of seriousness, and sighed profusely along with Rainbow Dash. At times like these, the badge on her hat weighed ten times more. The fact that she was the one who held the last word didn't bother her nearly as much as the fact that she was pretending to be able to hold her ground. She was well used to the inane threats that the mentally exhausted miners made. As long as the RECs were in charge, so would she.

The disgusting stench of charred wood entered her nostrils, as she knew it would upon entering this particular area of the city. Just seeing the blackened remains of the street that stretched before her caused the memories of her life to overlap the thoughts of her job. There was no more mud on the ground. It was completely dried up. The ground was hard and ashen, constrasting sharply with the ruins around the pair of mares. They were alone now.

The city's chatter grew quieter the longer they walked. Without the blacksmiths, fireplaces and constant movement to toss smoke and dust into the air, the sky became cleaner. A different sound was beginning to emerge from the wreckage. Her throat felt as dry as the cement she stepped on. She was unsure about how long it had been since those sounds had expressed genuine emotions.

Crossing this area always caused these sounds to surface. She heard laughter and happy voices all around. There were all sorts of pitches and timbres in the mix. She heard young and old ponies. The crunch of grass beneath their hooves buzzed in her ears. Market stalls flanked the streets, displaying their selection of fruits and vegetables while their owners engaged in the bickering that competition always caused. These were good-willed discussions, though. They were nothing like the drunken riots that roused Applejack from her sleep every night.

They were approaching a carousel-like building. The wind carried a very faint whisper of an overdramatic wail, shortly followed by a epiphanic exclamation. Surely a new way to impress the stuck-up citizens of Canterlot.

But the boutique was being torn apart. A unicorn mare was boarding a carriage that was already loaded with bags with more shapes and colors than there were stars in the sky. She donned a kerchief and a large pair of sunshades, as if she wanted to remain incognito. Three little fillies were hugging each other on the lawn in front of the building, exchanging a tearful farewell. Applejack caught a glimpse of the carriage as it prepared to leave. 'Macintosh Co.' was scribbled all over its side.

Perhaps she would be back one day, though. Yes, she would. Not one of the five friends doubted that. She would grow rich, and then return to Ponyville.

They were near a big, empty field now. The land there had been deprived of any sense of order. Heaps upon heaps of dirt, rock, bushes and trees were scattered throughout the fields in the same erratic manner farmer spreads their seeds. Kilometers of rope connected the surface to the bottom of the crater in the middle of the field. Carrying in their mouth the handles of buckets filled to the brim with nothing but mud, ponies flocked in and out of the massive pit.

Far detached from the shuffle, where the brown of the earth met the green of Ponyville, lay a gigantic, hollow tree that was being cut down to smaller pieces of lumber. Its pieces were being carried to the only place with a hint of organization: a very, very lengthy pile of more lumber. As the night fell, the pile grew smaller, as the wood provided the fuel to all of the fires that dotted the crater's edge. Applejack was sure that a pony could see the fiery tendrils all the way from Appleloosa.

Day upon night, nothing changed.

The day came when there wasn't a chance to say goodbye. As she observed the skies in silence, she saw a chariot that was flying off. The only thing she saw of the passenger was a lavender blur.

In an attempt to distract herself, she sought for a gingerbread house. She rejoiced when her eyes were greeted by shades of pink in the distance. Her mouth began to water at the thought of eating a pastry of her choice, fresh out of the oven. She heard a pony singing happily.

Two pegasus mares were entering the shop, a yellow and a blue one. They chattered among themselves in a very low voice, which was surprising when it came to the most athletic one. They pushed the door open, took one last, steeling look at each other, and walked in.

Not long after, the cheerful song that previously filled the air slowly faded away. There was a loud crash and many, many cries and shouts before the same two mares darted out of the building, one reduced to tears, the other a fuming mess. A lot of ponies were leaving the shop now, some of them having very obviously been removed by force. When they finally cleared, all that was left was a pink mare crying at the doorstep. The house was on fire.

A lonesome tear slipped out of the corner of Applejack's eye. She wished it was because of how intense the scent felt now that they were in the middle of the town. There was smoke everywhere. The houses had caught on fire. There were ponies running away all over the place. They came from everywhere, and she barely managed to keep herself from getting trampled underhoof.

All of her senses were being assaulted at once. The taste of the ashes that burned in her mouth as she trekked through the clouds of putrid gases was all that kept her awake in the heart of the furnace. The horrifyingly familiar voices that screamed for help had driven her into a house that her sister had mentioned many times, but that Applejack had never really seen or been to.

It was the home of that little pegasus filly that always hung out with her sibling. The pony's name evaded her much like she dodged the flaming beams that fell from the ceiling, but the desperate cries were unmistakable. Applejack hurdled over the flames that consumed the remains of an old-fashioned table, hoping to find the filly in the section it blocked. Her body reeked of singed fur and leather.

Encountering one of the only two possible paths down the hall blocked by the fire, she took a sharp turn right and bolted up a staircase. Her only wish was that the house could still support her weight. She was getting closer - she could feel it!

She called for her, and fought back a relieved sigh when she got a reply. She'd pinpointed the location; all that was left was to take the fiery wooden beams off of the bed and collect the filly. Without so much as a warning, Applejack reared back on her forelegs and prepared to deliver a kick.

"Applejack!"

Just as she had feared, however, the floor gave in under her hooves, stripping her of her balance. A pitch-black cloud of smog billowed from the new hole on the ground. A loud shriek escaped the mare's throat as she found her hooves ensnared by the jagged tiles. As if the searing pain in her legs hadn't been enough, every breath she drew was painful and more laborious than the previous, like tiny needles were being pinned on her chest.

"Applejack! Are you still there?"

It hurt her heart to even imagine how close, yet how far she was from a successful rescue. More beams came tumbling down onto the bed, casting an opaque cloud into the air. She attempted to find the filly amidst the smog, but came up empty.

There hadn't even been enough time for her to face the reality of the situation. She was just starting to grasp the consequences of the fire when two legs were wrapped around her waist to haul her up.

"Applejack!"

As she looked up, her eyes met two large, magenta pools. The suffocating embrace of the smoke had disappeared along with the charcoal clouds. There were no longer any flames surrounding her or crumbling houses overhead. The sky was as blue as the pony that held her in their hooves and shook her frantically to obtain an answer.

"R-Rainbow?" the cowpony finally stuttered, coming to grips with her lying position on the ground. Her muzzle felt moist, her sight was blurry.

"I'm here..." Rainbow cooed, holding her closer. The pegasus sighed relievedly and rested her forehead against the other mare's. "Applejack, you can't keep doing this every time a new administrator arrives."

"A-Ah can't help it..."

"You're stronger than that," Rainbow insisted, giving the other mare a light shake. Her characteristic raspiness momentarily peaked in a crack of her voice. "I know you are."

"I-It's jus' so much..."

Despite herself, Rainbow didn't react to Applejack's pull. The pegasus allowed the few teardrops that escaped her friend's eyes to mat the fur on her chest. The frown on her lips was entirely artificial, the result of a mask that Rainbow knew she couldn't keep up. This was one of her - if not the - closest friends in a city that had been overflowing with disloyalty and dishonesty as of late.

Her relief was entirely real when Applejack gently pulled away. She brought a hoof up to clear her face. "We should get goin'," she spoke between stifled sniffs. Hints of hesitation were still evident in her voice, but neither mare was about to do anything about it. "Ya know how them administrators get when they dun' have it their way."

By mutual agreement, the ponies resumed their walk. Applejack trotted much faster than before, and Rainbow could guess why it was so.

Not much farther ahead, the train station's tower loomed over them. The background buzz of chatter was slowly returning, replacing the deafening silence that was felt in the midst of the ruins. In the past, Applejack would have been glad to join the conversations, maybe even incite Rainbow to do some tricks.

Nowadays, there was no time for such trivial business, nor were there ponies with the desire to socialize like that. As she crossed the crowds that waited inside the building, safe from the frosty bite of the Autumn breeze, she noticed that these ponies were almost all workers from the mines. They had the same stench that a pony acquires after weeks without the most basic of hygienic cares. They were always holed up underground, chipping away the earth in search of fool's gold.

Even their voices were drowned by the ringing of the station's bell. A pony in a deep blue uniform walked out of the building, the supervisor hat on his head bobbing up and down with his every step. His heavy eyelids and just barely contained yawns made it clear that he had just woken up.

No matter how drowsy he appeared, however, he was well-capable of performing his job. After the usual warnings addressed to those too close to the rails, he announced the arrival of a train from Canterlot, and sat back on his haunches to watch the standing passengers.

True to his word, the locomotive and all of its cars drove into the station in the form of a white and yellow blur. It was the first time in years that Applejack had seen the Equestrian Express. One of the many reasons was the steep price.

The other reason she was sure Rainbow Dash didn't agree with so much. One of the carriages bore the familiar silhouettes of three diamonds on either side, and more often than not, carried only one passenger: an administrator.

That same car was the first one that the supervisor walked up to, as stated in protocol (a protocol that the pegasus should have obliged to as well, but didn't). Applejack and Rainbow stayed behind, with the latter inching imperceptibly towards the door.

The uninformed pony's hoof trembled as it touched the metal surface of the car and slid its door open. Both mares knew he had good reasons to fear breaking the rules.

Rainbow felt her furrowed brow relax as more of the carriage's passenger was showered by light.

"...Twilight?" she managed to mumble in her awestruck condition. She was unsure about how she should be feeling. On one hoof, this was her friend. On the other, this was an administrator. Very unsure. She hated being unsure.

Applejack didn't appear to be any better, if her slack-jawed, wide-eyed pose was any indication. Already she was approaching the carriage, bearing a little shimmer in her eyes and a lot of uncertainty in her step.

"Twilight? Is that... is that you?"

The feeling had been mutual, it seemed. As soon as the lavender mare stepped out of the carriage, she took in the fresh air of the country with a long inhale and looked around, anxious to see her town after such a long time away. What she saw left a lump in her throat, and her mouth hung ever so slightly open.

Her body didn't obey her brain. She found herself standing face-to-face with the cowpony, watching her reflection in the orange pony's damp eyes, and at a loss for words.

"It really is you... ain't it?" Applejack whispered, more to herself than to Twilight. She traced the bookish mare's snout with a hoof, careful to avoid the spectacles, before moving on to the mane. She had grown used to seeing her friend's mane flow freely over her shoulders. Seeing it tied up in a neat bundle behind her head was different. No matter her looks, though, Applejack recognized the friendly smile she was being offered. "It's her. Oh Celestia be blessed, Rainbow, it's her!"

"It's-UFF!" she began, only to be interrupted by Applejack's strong embrace. She spared herself of words and simply relished in the hug's warmth, even giving some back by wrapping her forelegs around the cowpony. Rainbow still stood across them, but now she averted her gaze from the two.

When they broke apart, Twilight did her best to ignore Rainbow's reaction by focusing on Applejack. She hadn't changed one bit since had their last meeting, she thought to herself. She wore the same hat, and her strong body still had the same vigor to it. There was only one thing missing: the characteristic smell of apples and greenery.

She could get over that, though. Above all, she appeared every bit as honest as Twilight remembered. Just like she liked it.

"But... Ah dun' get it," the cowpony spoke. In truth, she understood what was going her - her mind simply wasn't ready to accept it yet. She made the question anyway: "Are ya escortin' the administrator or somethin'?"

Twilight shook her head. "I'm the new Ponyville administrator."

"Heh, now there's a name Ah haven't heard lately." Applejack chuckled lightly. "Bet folks back in the mines dun' even know it."

"Really?"

The cowpony nodded. "Eeyup. Everypony jus' moved further downstream, where the mines were bein' built when ya... when ya left. A downright pig-hole, that place. They call it Damson City." A pregnant silence befell them, with Applejack staring intently into Twilight's eyes as though she expected an answer. When none came, she took the first step: "Ah'm real glad ye're back, sugarcube. Ah really am.

"Ah bet even RD's all giddy inside," she added, turning towards the pegasus. Rainbow just narrowed her eyes and looked away. It was the prompt that Twilight had been needing to act.

"Hey, hum, Rainbow," she spoke, walking up to her old friend. Rainbow didn't appear to pay her any mind, even as the soon-to-be administrator touched her shoulder with a hoof. She had to summon every single inch of will in her being to keep her wings from popping open. "I'm... sorry. For what I did all those years ago. I know I hurt you the most. I wasn't very loyal... But being in Canterlot, away from all of you, gave me time to think...

"If I could do it again... if I was given the choice to go back and stay in Ponyville..." Rainbow's ear twitched once Twilight trailed off. "I would do it again. A little differently, maybe, but I would do it again." The pegasus couldn't control her wings this time. Twilight was rubbing her back. "I just hope you can forgive me for that."

"Words aren't going to bring anypony back." Such had been the sternness of Rainbow's words that the unicorn lowered her head in shame. There was truth in them, to be sure. No matter what she said or did now, nopony would return.

Yet the pegasus was not finished. Twilight felt a hoof under her chin pivot her head up. "But it wasn't all you. For what it's worth, I'm... I'm sorry too."

"Thank you, Rainbow." With a tiny smile on their features, the two mares drew closer and tenderly nuzzled each other's cheek. Just as Twilight felt Rainbow trying to pull away, she decided to say, "So... where's the awesome Rainbow Dash I used to know?"

"Still here. Don't push your luck, egghead."

"Damson City, eh?"

"Eeyup. T'ain't much of a sight." Right on cue, a passing carriage splashed mud onto bystanders just steps away from the mares. The drenched ponies were quick to react by chasing the vehicle while yelling all sorts of curses and foul words. Applejack just shook her head. "But Ah suppose we don't have much of a choice. We're dependin' on all these miners to have a city at all."

"Sounds painful." A pained scream erupted from a tavern across the street. Its doors swung open with uncanny violence before an old stallion was flailed into the air without the slightest care. The pony's landing didn't go unnoticed, especially not by those who were unfortunate enough to be nearby. Twilight gulped and focused on the road ahead again. "How do you put up with all of this?"

"Ah haven't the foggiest, sugarcube. Here's hoping ya'll'll be able to help me keep these rascals under control. Oh, would ya look at that. We're here." Because of the cowpony's unexpected stop, the unicorn bumped against her back. The brief sting on her muzzle was further shortened once she got a good view of the building before them.

"It's so... boring." Was all she had to say about the tall, pale blue facility. Its facade couldn't have any simpler decoration: it was a long and tall, empty wall with only one door, but multiple windows near its top. It appeared to be more of a warehouse rather than anything else. The R.E.C. insignia was the only significant adornment, and something told Twilight that the three diamonds were placed on the exact center point of the wall. "And blue."

"Welcome to yer new office, Twilight."

A small set of stairs separated her from the entryway. She was about to open the door when she noticed she was alone. "Aren't you coming in?"

Applejack shuffled on her hooves. "They keep a mighty strict eye on who goes into the administrator's office 'n whatnot. We'll just wait outside."

"Besides," Rainbow added, flying up to the door and pointing at their hooves. Dirt was crawling up their legs like a swarm of hungry ants. "You don't want your new home to be dirty on the first day, right?"

Twilight gave her a good-willed giggle. "I suppose not! Just wait for me here, I'll be right out!"

Applejack and Rainbow exchanged worried glances, but didn't say anything. Twilight hadn't noticed them either, much to their relief. As the door closed behind the ex-librarian, the two mares sighed profusely.

The initial wave of heat that assaulted Twilight as soon as she entered the building had been almost suffocating. She felt a sudden yet fleeting dizziness attack her senses. It wasn't until she recovered that she walked down the plain blue corridor. Paintings were hung on the walls, and each one was labelled equally: 'The Administrator', followed by the pony's name and the period of occupation of the post. There was nothing else to the place; the walls were otherwise as bare as they could be. The more she walked, the smaller the space between them seemed to become. Before long, Twilight's walk developed into a trot. Doors and frames zoomed past her.

Another door met her at the end of the corridor. She was surprised to see they were capable of opening automatically, but kept her astonishment to herself. It was what she saw next that she couldn't keep in.

As Time Turner would have put it, the place was much bigger on the inside. Although none of the chairs in the room was taken, she was sure that she couldn't count exactly how many there were. There was at least one monitor for each of the seats, and all of the machines were embedded in a large table.

Several rows of these occupied the room's floor, with a space worth of three chairs in the middle, forming a corridor that led her directly from the entrance to a massive, semi-circular control panel way across the room. It was facing a wall riddled with screens of all sizes, all of which were lit and broadcasting imagery from all corners of the city and the mines.

Despite all of the screens, the floor and all of the other walls remained enveloped in a veil of blackness. Twilight took careful steps towards the control panel, as though she would fall down a bottomless pit should she misplace a hoof.

"This place is huge..." she muttered. Her eyes were still glued to the multitude of screens. She knew it was impossible, and yet she tried to absorb information from all of them at once. In theory, it was very much like reading several books at the same time; something Twilight was not exactly a stranger to.

"Hello?"

Twilight spun around instantly, startled by the call. There was another pony standing at the entrance. Because the lack of light didn't allow her to see her companion, she walked closer. Deep gray coat, silvery, braided mane...

A gasp escaped her lips as soon as she realized who this pony was.

"You're... you're Silver Spoon." She remembered her. She appeared much older, but there she was. "Where's Diamond Tiara, then? She's always with you!"

"I've not seen her for years, miss Sparkle. And please, call me miss Spoon. I'm here for a different purpose." Twilight didn't dare argue. The other mare exuded an air of seriousness the likes of which she'd never seen before. She was strict and straight to the point. The unicorn trained her eyes on Silver Spoon as a hoof was held out to shake. "I have been appointed by miss Belle to help the Administrator. As long as you are assigned to Damson City, I will be your secretary, miss Sparkle."