Sly Cooper in: Stealing Harmony

by Loyal2Luna

Rating: everyone
Tags: Discord, Princess Celestia, Crossover, Main 6, Original Character, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Comedy, Other, Adventure
Length: 21612

In order to save his friends and the love of his life from Discord, Master Raccoon Thief Sly Cooper must accomplish the impossible; steal the Elements of Harmony from Celestia and their bearers.

Former "master thief" Sly Cooper had given up his old, criminal ways for good and settled into a new life with his love, Carmelita. But when an alien god of chaos spirits away and imprisons his lover and his friends, the last member of the Cooper Clan must take up his cane once again to get them back.

The deal is simple.

Come "willingly" to a peaceful, tranquil world populated by magical, colorful, talking ponies, and "acquire" six pieces of ceremonial jewelry in exchange for the release of his friends and the promise of a safe return to Earth. Piece of cake, right?

Right?

-------------------

Sly Cooper and all related properties and art belongs to Sucker-punch Studios and Sony
MLP belongs to Hasbro & Lauren Faust
Cover art by the fantastic Foxinshadow
Proofreader, Editor and sometimes Co-writer: 2dextreem

*WARNING: Contains spoilers for all three Sly Cooper games in the first chapter. Takes place before the events of "Sly Cooper: Thieves in Time." In the MLP universe, this takes place between seasons 2 and 3, a couple of months after the finale of season 2.*

If you favorite, also like. Likes and comments pay the bills and make the chapters come more quickly.

Published 2013-02-09 01:20:02 UTC
Last updated 2013-04-23 03:34:47 UTC

The Setup: A Discordant Proposal

Cancun, Mexico: 5:38 p.m.

I had it all planned out. Thinking back on it now, that should’ve been my first clue.

You see, I’ve always been good at coming up with stuff on the fly; improvising my way through when an otherwise spotless heist happened to go off the rails. But actually going step by step, sorting out every single detail down to the letter before I even start?

Let’s just say there’s a reason Bentley was always the one in charge of the planning.

Still, this time I really thought I had outdone myself.

A weeklong “forced vacation” for two of Interpol’s hardest-working agents? (Courtesy of our boss, and of myself for giving him the idea).

Check.

Exotic five-star beach-side resort in beautiful, sunny Cancun?

Check.

Ring?

My eyes flashed up to the case sitting on the dresser for just a moment.

Check.

A romantic dinner under the stars with Carmelita…

*KRAKA-THOOOOM!*

The lightning flashing outside my hotel room window, coupled with the sound of thunder, high winds, and the rain pelting the glass, gave me a moment’s pause as I worked on getting my stubborn bowtie just right. I kept my eyes on the vanity mirror, and away from the first-class view of black clouds, bending palm trees, and storm surge.

At least dinner by candlelight is still romantic... I thought, having to take a deep breath as I tried to ignore the icy pit in my stomach.

No plan ever goes off without a hitch. That’s a lesson I’ve taken to heart, but this was one curveball that I never saw coming. And neither did anyone else, for that matter.

When we left Interpol Headquarters in Paris, they called it Tropical Depression Number Seven, which had been strange enough to pop up this long after the end of hurricane season. However, by the time we arrived in Mexico a few hours later, it had been upgraded into a full-blown tropical storm so quickly that meteorologists everywhere were baffled.

And by the time we’d arrived at the resort sitting on the coast of the Gulf of Mexico, so had the inexplicably fast-developing storm, which now had a name to match its anarchic nature: Hurricane Eris.

So there wasn’t going to be as much fun in the sun as I had hoped, but we were still determined to make the most of it. At least, I was fairly certain that Carmelita was enjoying herself over the last couple of days in spite of the storm, which had decided to park itself right over Cancun and so far stubbornly refused to leave. We had enjoyed the local culture, food, music, and the full range of the resort’s indoor activities. (I’m not one to brag, but I was the king of the rock-climbing wall, and don’t let Inspector Fox tell you otherwise. Jumping to the top like that does NOT count).

But now, it was time to set the playful flirting aside and get serious.

Time to take the plunge.

Just like I planned.

Dinner… maybe talk a little about our last case in Russia… slowly build up the mood until it was the perfect moment to knock her off her heels...

And then…

I looked at the small red box again.

It was then that I realized that I had been “straightening” my tie for about twenty minutes now.

It shouldn’t have been this hard; after all, I felt like I’d known her my whole life. (Granted, that’s got some truth to it, but I couldn’t let her know about that).

We’d been through so much together over the last year, she had to know this was coming. Heck, I wouldn’t be surprised if she responded by yanking my ear and asking me what took so long.

I’m exaggerating, of course. Our relationship wasn’t really like that. At least... not yet.

Okay… focus.

Deep breath.

I looked up into the mirror one more time.

At the risk of sounding vain, I like to think that I clean up pretty well for a raccoon. And in that fancy getup, I once again proved more than capable of pulling off the “secret agent” vibe. James Bond, eat your heart out. That british bulldog's got nothing on me.

“Carmelita… will you marry me?” I said, rolling the words off my tongue as I tried them out, reaching for the case.

It was so light, yet, to think it held so much significance.

I opened it up to take a look over what lay inside, mostly to assure myself it was still there. (Hey, I used to make my living making valuable objects disappear, so sue me if I sound paranoid).

Pure titanium band with a platinum inlay and wreathing, set with a jaw-dropping four-carat fire ruby polished to perfection. Tough, beautiful, and fiery.

One of a kind, just like her.

“Carmelita will you… please marry me?” I repeated, although the inflection made me cringe as I heard myself say it.

What was I doing? Begging?

“How do I love thee, let me--”

I didn’t even need to finish that one. If I tried something as sappy as that she’d pull her shock pistol on me, and this time I’d actually deserve it.

“Inspector Fox, how would you like to become Inspector Cooper?” I tried more casually.

There must have been a writer’s strike in my head, because even Murray would’ve realized how dumb that sounded.

Another flash of lightning and a clap of thunder outside brought my attention back to reality as the lights flickered.

Oh great, that was just what I needed to add to the mood: a blackout.

I needed to stop wasting time and just go out there and do it, before I made myself sick wringing my hands over the whole deal.

“Okay… Show time,” I muttered under my breath, snapping the case shut and slipping it in my coat pocket as I checked the clock, glad that I had set aside so much time before I was going to meet the illustrious Inspector Fox for dinner.

It’s not my style to keep a lady waiting.

If only I had known as I left my room that I was walking out into a big ol’ storm of chaos.

And I’m not talking about Eris.

——————

“…Last I heard, he actually managed to recapture the spotlight in prison theater,” the lovely vixen in the black evening dress related, her Spanish accent lilting and an amused smile crossing her face as she leaned forward over the table. She was just finishing up the story of one of her more memorable busts. “As it turns out, most of his old opera fanbase in the Venetian Mafia was already incarcerated there.”

I managed to match her amused laugh at her retelling of the arrest of Don Octavio, the former “boss” of the Venice gangster scene.

She and I remembered Venice very differently.

Then again, I wasn’t supposed to remember Venice at all.

“And where was I during all of this, ‘partner’?” I asked as I sipped my wine, a question that I had found myself asking quite often over the last year, when I had to be careful not to let slip that I already knew the answer.

“Probably stumbling around in a back alley somewhere trying to find a clue,” Carmelita said, waving her hand dismissively, although her playful smirk indicated that this was clearly not the case, all for my benefit no doubt.

“Oh, my mistake, Inspector.” I rolled along with it, holding my hands up in an empty gesture of defeat. “I forgot that I used to be the bumbling constable to your supercop.”

“What do you mean, ‘used to be’?” Carmelita grinned roguishly before taking a sip of her ginger ale. I responded to her quip by leaning back in my seat, folding my arms, and raising my chin at her.

“Remind me again who blew our cover in Saint Petersburg, because I seem to recall having to violate several warrant obtainment protocols in order to rescue her from Boss Kodiak’s base of operations.”

“All part of the plan. We got the evidence we needed didn’t we?” Carmelita defended herself from the accusation. “And since you were acting in order to prevent obstruction of justice by way of abducting an Interpol agent, it gave us the legal standing to execute a search and seizure of the property.”

“Was me having to fight a giant robotic bear with lasers for eyes part of the plan too?”

“No,” my date allowed herself a small chuckle. “That was because you have the incurable need to impress any females who happen to be in the vicinity.”

I raised my eyebrow at her. “Did it work?”

“How couldn’t it? It’s what every woman wants for her birthday: a two-story mechanical ursine fireworks display.”

I couldn’t help but crack a smile. One thing was for sure, she was getting quicker with the quips during these verbal sparrings.

I am such a bad influence.

*KRAKA-THOOOOM!*

A sudden flash of thunder in the fancy dining hall windows of the resort and the subsequent flickering of the lights caused a moment of distraction, with Carmelita looking up and allowing me a chance to reflect on the situation and how it was developing.

There was no question that I was enjoying Carmelita’s company, but to be honest, this wasn’t exactly where I was hoping the conversation would be by now.

The case in my coat pocket was beginning to feel like a lead weight, as I found myself wondering if I should simply bail on the job and enjoy the rest of the evening.

...No, I couldn’t lose my nerve now. I had already put it off too long; waiting for her to take her mind off of work, waiting for her to settle in and relax a little...

Come on Sly, grow a spine. Five words... Just say it.

“Carmelita, I’ve been thinking...” I started, not quite sure where I was going myself as I got her attention. “We’ve been partners for a really long time... and it’s got me wondering if... maybe...”

“You know, this strange weather actually reminds me of something... Do you remember Sir Raleigh at all?” Carmelita interrupted me suddenly with a tone I knew all too well. I had dubbed it the “Voice of Deduction.”

As for Sir Raleigh the frog? The bored English noble-turned-submariner who created a weather machine, as well as the myth of a “Welsh Triangle” to cover up his piracy of ships traversing the Channel?

The one that bypassed my family home’s security systems when I was a child, allowing his band of associates free access?

The first member of the Fiendish Five that I put behind bars during my quest to avenge my family and steal back the Thievius Raccoonus?

Yeah... I remembered Sir Raleigh. I’ll never forget.

“Can’t say that one rings a bell.”

“This storm looks a lot like the sort that he made with his weather machine. Now, I’m aware that Sir Raleigh is still behind bars and the pieces of that machine are still in confiscated storage at Headquarters, but perhaps we have a copycat on our hands.”

“Carmelita...” I shook my head. “We’re on vacation.”

“I know, but what if--”

“It’s just a storm. Nothing sinister or evil about it,” I tried to reason, attempting once more to get out the right words before my courage fled with its tail between its legs. “And besides, I have something important to--”

“Excuuuuuuse me, Seniore.”

I felt my teeth grind at the interruption as a new presence made itself known at the side of our table. As I turned to face him, one thing was made abundantly clear: He wasn’t one of the wait staff.

He was tall and lanky, dressed in a traditional mariachi outfit complete with poncho and a ridiculously large sombrero on his head. His face was a grey-furred snout that immediately made me think “equine” although I couldn’t quite pin down his subspecies. Adding to that, the large black mustache he sported was almost comically stereotypical, as was his over-the-top accent.

“There ees a telephone call at thee front desk for a meester...” He held up a small piece of paper in his left hand, which was gloved, but looked disproportionately thinner than his right hand. “Syl-ves-tar... Cue-parr?”

I felt my ears flatten and my lips pull back in an involuntary sneer as Carmelita had to stifle a snicker, clearly enjoying my moment of discomfort.

In my entire life, only two people had ever called me Sylvester to my face.

One was my mother. The other was the harpy-like “Ms. Puffin,” who acted as Director of the orphanage where I grew up after my parents were gone. Nowadays, everyone I know calls me Sly, and the only places where my name is actually written down are my birth certificate, and the few scraps of legal documents I had to file when I went legit.

I took a breath, trying to save face after letting something as simple as that get under my fur.

“From who?”

“I’m afraid I don’t know about that, Seniore,” the mariachi shrugged. “I am just thee meessenger.”

“It’s probably just Headquarters checking in on us.” Carmelita shook her head with a smile, clearly amused by my reaction. “Given our reputation for finding trouble, they’re probably shocked that we haven’t yet made headlines. Go ahead, Sly. I’ll wait.”

My mouth worked for a moment, though no sound came out as my brain stumbled around for an excuse to ignore the sudden and unexpected summons. Unable to find a reason, I exhaled sharply though my nose and stood, my agitation (I hoped) clearly apparent to the culturally-overdressed messenger who merely stood there with his hands behind his back, nodding to me mutely.

As I started away towards the front lobby, I didn’t realize how much I would come to regret the fact that I wasn’t paying any attention to the predatory gleam in those red and yellow eyes of his.

——————

“Sly Cooper,” I told the receptionist with a bit more huff in my voice than was probably necessary. Just for added effect, I pulled out and flashed my ID, as well as my Interpol badge. “I was told there was a phone call for me.”

To her credit, the young mouse at the desk didn’t seem put off by the display of authority, merely nodding and reaching under the counter to bring out a cordless phone which she held out to me pointedly.

“Thanks.” I took it in my hand, bringing it up as I turned around and set it to my ear. “This is Constable Cooper.”

“Mister Cooper. Pleasure to make your acquaintance,” the voice on the other line sounded amused. “Constable, though? My, my... that won’t do at all. The last thing I need is a lawman.”

My brow furrowed immediately at the insinuation of the tone. That voice... There was something instantly familiar to it, but it wasn’t someone that I recognized immediately. It was an almost whimsical, devious manner of speech that for some reason filled me with a sense of dread.

One thing was for sure: It wasn’t Interpol Headquarters.

“Who is this?”

“A long-time admirer of your past work, Mister Cooper,” the voice on the other end stated. “And speaking of work, let’s cut to the chase, shall we? I have a job for you.”

“Sorry, I’m gainfully employed,” I dismissed quickly, trying not to betray the worry that I felt in my chest as I heard the words “past work.”

My record had been expunged; completely erased along with all video and photographic evidence of my previous life, courtesy of Carmelita and my old pal Bentley. The reputation of “Master Thief” Sly Cooper was still around, but quickly losing its impact the longer I went without turning up in the papers.

While I had kept my name, Cooper was reasonably generic enough to avoid the notice of all but the most astute investigator, which is the sort of analytical thinking the criminal underworld tends to lack. And even barring all of that, the only people who had ever actually met me in person were either my friends; who had made no effort to contact me, or my enemies; most of whom were either gone for good, behind bars, or (like me) had moved on with their lives.

“Yes, so I’ve heard. Settled down to combat red tape and play lackey to the oppressive global authority,” the voice replied, his tone mocking. “Trading freedom and excitement for stability and the humdrum of the everyday grind. Surely there’s some part of you that misses the rush... The thrill of the hunt.”

I felt my tail twitch.

This was getting too close to home.

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Ah, still sawing at that old bone, are you?” The caller sounded both amused, yet also annoyed. “You might be able to fool your friends and your new employers with that, my tricky raccoon. But you can’t fool me.”

“Is that so?” I turned about, trying to keep my cool and glad to notice that the receptionist was paying me no mind, too engrossed in reading some trashy Latin romance novel to pay attention to me.

“Listen, whoever you are: I don’t know where you get your information but you are clearly mistaken. The person you think I am is gone; nothing more than a forgotten memory.” I tried to maintain a calm tone while putting a bit more force behind my words. “So I don’t care what your offer is and I don’t want to hear anything more about this ‘job’ of yours. The answer is no. Never. Not a chance.”

“I must say, that hardly sounds like the attitude of a Cooper. That saucy damsel really has you by the tail, doesn’t she?” the voice stated with a sigh. “Going on and on about her boring adventures while you just sit there in your pressed suit, lapping it up like a love-struck puppy.”

My eyes went wide as what he said impacted me, causing me to look around the lobby, attempting to scrutinize every member of the hotel’s staff and the guests that were at the counters going about their business.

Whoever this person was, he knew I was here with Carmelita. He knew what we were talking about. He even knew what I was wearing.

I was being watched.

“Don’t bother trying to spot me; I’ve been at this for far longer than you can even imagine. This call was simply a courtesy, in hopes that this wouldn’t have to get any more complicated than it needed to be,” the speaker stated in a slightly menacing manner that made me just picture a large, maniacal smile on the other end of the phone line. “Not that I don’t appreciate a little ‘complication’ now and again... Something I feel I have in common with that daredevil Inspector of yours.”

Another sudden realization sent a chill up my spine.

If I was being watched, then that meant...

“Carmelita...”

The cordless phone clattered to the floor of the hotel as I broke into a sprint.

——————

Her seat at our table was empty; our deserts and glasses still sitting there half finished. The waiters and other guests were all still mulling about, completely and blissfully unaware of what was going on.

Needless to say, I was alarmed.

“Hey! You!” I grabbed one of the waiters nearest to me; a rather unremarkable-looking green iguana who seemed to bite back a retort to my sudden interruption of the service to his current table. I ignored the indignant look of the two French poodles nearby who were also displeased about my interruption. “The lady in the black dress that was sitting there! Did you see where she went!?”

“Uhhh... No, sir. I’m sorry.”

“What about the mariachi that was here? Giant sombrero? Black bushy mustache?”

The waiter raised an eye ridge at me, clearly confused.

“Sir, this is a five-star luxury resort,” he explained slowly, looking slightly insulted. “Just because this is Mexico doesn’t mean we don’t have standards.”

This information was not something I wanted to hear, but as I went over my brief exchange with the thickly-accented man in my head, it seemed all too obvious to me now.

How did I manage not to notice such a terrible disguise? I’m the best at terrible disguises! (And I’m certain Bentley would back me up on that).

Wait... Slow down, take a breath, Sly.

Carmelita is a spitfire. She isn’t the type to quietly be “escorted” out of a room filled with other people, and she somehow always manages to carry that shock pistol of hers. (Don’t ask me how. I’ve gotten to know her quite ‘intimately’ over the past year and I still haven’t figured it out).

No, she would have made a scene. Regardless of the nature of any threat made towards her, she would have responded immediately and with overwhelming force. The lack of nearby property damage indicated that this wasn’t the case.

So where would she go?

I turned about, leaving the iguana waiter watching me with a worried, confused look as I made a beeline towards the elevator, sparing a half a second to look up at the lit dial indicating its current position.

Top floor. Just perfect.

I pressed the summon button repeatedly with one hand while the other pulled out my cell. As I pressed the speed dial, I realized just how worked up I was getting over something that could have been just a freak misunderstanding. For all I knew, she might’ve just been in the ladies room and I was getting worried over nothing.

I tapped my foot impatiently as the phone rang three times, watching the elevator slowly inch down a level... then stop. Then down another level... then stopping again.

This was taking too long.

Carmelita always had her phone on her and she usually answered it before the first ring was finished.

Closing the cell, I left the elevator behind and went to the staircase leading up to the guest rooms. Sparing a moment to look around and make sure nobody was watching, I then literally sprang into action. With the help of a sudden surge of adrenaline, I decided to forgo the steps completely, jumping up on a side wall to propel myself onto the banister. I then expertly flew back and forth across the short gap, taking a floor at time, before giving myself a boost of momentum to land squarely in front of the hallway leading to our suites.

Up four floors in just over two seconds.

I was out of practice.

Still, all I was really thinking about at this point was Carmelita. If she so much as smelled a threat, her first move would be to get back to her utility bag. If she had time, she would also have quickly changed into her standard Interpol uniform, as well as that jacket she was so fond of.

As I silently sprinted down the carpeted hallway, I spared a moment to question myself. Was I panicking over nothing? So far, I hadn’t found any real evidence that something was wrong. That blowhard over the phone might have been miles away, watching feed from the hotel’s security cameras. And I had not yet encountered a single hired goon, indicating that perhaps the mysterious caller had expected me to be more receptive.

...Hah. Phone call. Receptive. I should write a book of this stuff.

I slowed my pace as I approached her door, thinking it best to not look like I had rushed up there after losing sight of her for ten seconds, and raised my hand to knock.

*KRAKA-THOOOOM!*

The thunderclap made my heart jump into my throat as the entire resort shook and the lights blinked out in an instant. In the sudden rush, I had completely forgotten about Hurricane Eris.

A complete blackout; something that had been threatening the resort for days had finally happened. I guess I should have considered myself fortunate that I didn’t wait for the elevator like most people, since by now it would have been stuck, with me most likely trapped inside.

As the hotel’s emergency lighting came on, dull red strips of luminescent tape brightening along the corners of the floor, I took a moment before rapping on the door.

“Carmelita?” I tried.

No answer.

“Carmelita, it’s Sly! Are you there?”

I huffed slightly as I looked down at the door handle. Standard double-grade mechanical lock supplemented by a card-reading magnetic seal. With the power out, the card reader was dead, which just left the basic deadbolt.

I rolled my eyes as I ran a hand up the door, digging my short-cut claws into the finely painted wood of the molding to pull away a single splinter.

Civilian locks, I mused, shaking my head.

I deftly slid the splinter into the mechanism with one hand and quickly turned it just so, holding my ear close to the door’s surface as I made out the tumbler combination.

*click*
*click-click*
*click*
*ka-chunk*

It was almost embarrassingly easy.

I opened the door quietly and stuck my head in, still fearful of a sudden ambush or, if I was lucky, a punch in the face for sneaking into Carmelita’s room while she was changing.

The room was pitch-black, but my raccoon eyes had already adjusted to the lighting, and I was able to make out my surroundings in crisp, clear lines.

It was empty.

Carmelita’s jacket hung on the end of her bed, her boots at the side and her utility bag, which contained her reading glasses, handcuffs, and any number of other pieces of equipment, lay undisturbed in a chair in front of the window. Outside, the storm raged on, rain beating the glass as the nighttime sky was briefly lit up with lightning, giving an eerie moment of illumination that only confirmed what I was looking at.

I moved into the room with caution, quickly ducking my head around the corner leading to the bathroom, which was empty, and to the closet, which was also empty.

*ka-chunk*

I swirled around in an instant, having drawn down into a combat-ready crouch, my senses all heightened as I realized the door had closed on its own.

It’s a hotel... The doors are weighted.

I was slipping. I should’ve remembered that.

Okay, so she’s not here, I thought to myself.

Where else could she be? I could check the reception area, make sure that there were no other major exits. Failing that, a flash of an Interpol badge tended to do wonders to--

I stopped as my hand reached for the door handle, my ears perking as the fur on the back of my neck bristled with an unsteady feeling.

I wasn’t alone.

*FWHIP!*

My reaction was pure instinct and muscle memory, twisting around and throwing my arm forward to catch the projectile. Instead of absorbing the momentum, I redirected it, bringing the weight around and to my side as I dug my heel into the floor, turning to face my attacker with his own weapon pointed at him.

By the time my brain finally caught up with what occurred a few seconds later, I realized how familiar the object in my hand felt... How... right it seemed. And as my eyes fell over it, I realized why.

It was a smooth, perfectly-polished, ironwood cane.

Without thinking, I slid my hand up the shaft towards the top and felt my thumb press against a hidden mechanism that I somehow knew would be there.

*CLICK-CLACK*

The top of the staff erupted and unfolded into a golden metal hook, blunted around the edges, yet angled to appear razor sharp. The top of the hook fell straight down, ending in a distinctive point to create a stylized ‘C’.

The symbol of the Cooper Clan.

I had seen countless knockoffs and recreations; attempts to perfectly imitate the weapon that had been passed down my line for so many generations. It may have been over a year since I held it in my hands, but there was no doubt in my mind.

This was my father’s cane.

My cane.

“Well, now... Color me impressed.”

My feeling of nostalgia was quieted in an instant as I looked past the cane and directed my gaze towards the window, where a tall figure sat silhouetted against the slightly illuminated, rain spattered glass. The lighting behind him cast his features in shadow, allowing me only to make out a lanky outline that seemed to be that of a tall, furry serpent with his hands in front of him, and two mismatching horns sprouting from his head.

Now, I might miss a detail once in awhile... I might have neglected to notice a weighted door or something like that, but there is no way I should have missed this guy, who was easily a foot taller than I was, hiding out in the open in the single bed hotel room.

Aside from the door, the only other entry point was the window, which was clearly closed and had been so the entire time. How could he have possibly gotten the jump on me?

“Perfect reaction time... acrobatic and manual dexterity in spades... and awareness bordering on a sixth sense,” the stranger offered a pleased appraisal. “And here I was concerned that you might have lost some of your edge.”

The voice was lilting, yet whimsical, and in an instant, I knew that I was now face to face with the same man who had taunted me over the phone.

“By the way... running off without even saying goodbye was incredibly rude,” the stranger stated, as if he knew exactly what I was thinking. “Given your initial reluctance, I thought it might be prudent for me to... reiterate my proposal in person.”

“Who are you?” I asked, my teeth gritted and every muscle ready to move at the next sign of trouble.

“Me?” The figure drew back, as if surprised by the question before a certain smugness returned to his voice. “Oh, I have had so many names over the years. Some in languages long since dead, some buried in history books thicker than you are tall. Yet, none of those would mean anything to you. I have been called Mayhem and Strife. I have been known as king and clown. To the gentlemen, I’m Miss Fortune. To the ladies, I’m Sir Prize. But call on me by any name, anyway it’s all the same.”

My stern grimace didn’t relent as the creature before me pontificated, then released a sigh as if realizing he wasn’t going to get a reaction from the less-than-amused raccoon.

“But if none of those tickle your fancy, very well... You may refer to me as... Discord.

*KRAKA-THOOOOM!*

At the declaration, a bolt of lightning illuminated the room, allowing me a brief moment to view the creature, quickly gathering details.

A lion’s paw... eagle’s claw... one leg draconic while the other looked like a donkey’s, and a red serpent’s tail. The head of an equine with a single protruding fang... mismatching horns, and multicolored segments of fur and scales.

And just as remarkable as the impossible composite creature was the lightning, the timing of which had been perfect to the point of being blatantly theatrical. Having been behind many elaborate diversionary setups before, I knew better than to be awed by it. Surely, even if this... thing on the other side of the room had somehow been responsible, it could’ve been as simple as a well-placed concussive round, combined with a strobe light outside the window to complete the effect.

Cheap theatrics meant to intimidate and throw me off guard. I wasn’t going to fall for it.

“Discord,” meanwhile, seemed to be disappointed by my lack of reaction and continued talking.

“Anyway, that’s what most ponies call me nowadays.”

“Ponies?” I asked, thrown off by his odd choice of words.

“Don’t worry, we’ll get to that in a moment.” Discord waved a hand in the dark, the light having since faded away and left him in silhouette. “Although I must say, you’re taking my appearance well.”

“You’re not my first mutant monster, buddy,” I managed, still keeping my cane at arm’s length. “You’re not even the strangest. Go back and get one of your gorilla/bat/elephant friends and we’ll start talking weird.”

Discord chuckled.

“Oh, how precious... You think I’m one of Doctor Mandrill's brain-defective genetic experiments.” The creature shook his head. “Sly, my boy... you truly have no idea what you’re dealing with here.”

“Uh-huh.” I shook my head at the boasting, for I had long since outgrown these sorts of mindgames. There was no way that this guy could expect me to be taking this lightly. “I’m sure. Now where’s Carmelita?”

“Again with Inspector Fox. Sly, you really are whipped, aren't you? Oh, I wouldn’t worry, she’s closeby... Quite close, actually.” Discord nodded. “But first... to business.”

“Business?” I repeated. He couldn’t seriously be standing there and expecting me to say yes after all of this.

“I have need of a thief. And I need the best.” Discord leaned forward, allowing me to better make out the details of his face in the dark. His eyes were menacingly red... and narrowed in a calculating fashion that gave me the impression of a shark eyeing its lunch. “And the best... happens to be you.”

“Then we don’t have any business together. I told you already, I’m retired from that line of work.”

“You’ll make an exception.”

The creature before me suddenly stood, revealing himself to be twice my size, having to bend his long neck over to keep his horns from scraping against the ceiling.

I hadn’t even realized that he’d been sitting.

Then he brought his hands together quickly and my body tensed, ready for whatever was to come.

*clap-clap*

The lights suddenly flickered on.

I felt myself deflate a little, and although I now managed to view Discord in full light, it didn’t change my earlier thoughts of him as some sort of genetic freak.

The only new detail I really got now was just how... jovial he seemed. How he carried himself with an airy, easy-going sort of grace...

It was then that I realized he actually wasn’t more than a head taller than I was.

He just happened to be floating a few feet off the ground.

“How are you...?” I trailed off, unable to explain just what I was looking at.

“Let us discuss this in a more... appropriate setting, shall we?” Discord offered, snapping the fingers of his lion’s paw hand.

There was a sudden flash of light... a disorienting surge in my chest... and the next thing I knew...

——————

I was sitting at a blackjack table. And while I was sitting at the table alone, there were people everywhere. Laughing, talking, eating, and playing games of chance all around as the ambient noise of the casino filled the air.

Hold on a second... I know this place!

“Mesa City?” I realized, looking around at the crowds. It was certainly livelier than my last time there, which wasn’t surprising, since my previous visit had outed the villainous Muggshot, who had taken over what was now a more legitimate form of vice in the Western United States.

Mexico was at least a thousand miles south of where I now sat. How could I suddenly be in Mesa City, USA?

“That’s...”

“Impossible?”

I twisted around, realizing that I hadn’t been transported to this place alone. Standing in the dealer’s spot was Discord; this time dressed to play the part with a green visor over his brow, an unlit cigar wedged in the corner of his lips, all while dressed in a standard casino dealer’s uniform.

“I never did like that word. I hear it and I just say ‘So what?’” He grinned as he shuffled a deck of cards absentmindedly.

Realizing my cane was still in hand, I snarled, standing up and bringing it around with a flick of the wrist, the crook of it directed at the creature’s neck.

I’m not normally a violent person, but this was getting crazy even for me.

“How did you do that?” I asked roughly.

“Oh, it’s simple, really.” Discord smiled, clearly not feeling at all threatened by my weapon. “I wanted a change of venue for our discussion, so I made it happen. When you embody the very essence of chaos, little things like ‘space,’ ‘physics,’ and even ‘magic’ don’t do much to deter. Now if you would kindly take your seat, we can begin.”

“I’m not doing anything until you tell me where Carmelita--”

“SIT DOWN!”

The sheer power behind the sudden command was beyond anything I had ever experienced before, forcing me back into the player’s seat as if two heavily-muscled goons were weighing down my shoulders.

Around me, nobody seemed to notice what had happened, continuing to go about their day as if everything was business as usual.

Okay, admitting this guy was some sort of “magical creature” was still a stretch, but at least at this point I was convinced that he wasn’t just another of Dr. M’s leftovers.

Discord took a quick breath, his agitation seeming to dissipate right before my eyes as he calmly approached the subject again.

“Just... hear me out, Sly.” He nodded, smiling again. “If you don’t want to provide your services after that, then the choice is still yours to decline my little offer. Just settle down and listen to what I have to say, and I promise I’m prepared to give you back your girlfriend.”

My eyes narrowed on the creature before me, who extended his taloned hand while his lion’s paw still managed to somehow continue shuffling the deck.

“What do you say? Have we got a deal?”

I glared at him a moment longer before asking: “What are you, the Devil?”

“Hardly,” Discord grinned, his one fang gleaming in the casino’s garish lighting. “Although we do sometimes get together for golf on the weekends.”

I didn’t laugh, instead reaching up and very reluctantly shaking the creature’s talon.

“Tough crowd...” Discord shrugged as he pulled his talon away. “I seem to recall that you used to have a sense of humor, Sly.”

“I still do, just not when someone is holding my partner hostage.”

“Then let us get all of the exposition out of the way, shall we?” he stated, finishing his shuffling with a flourish before cutting the deck.

“As I said, my name is Discord. And I come from a world quite unlike this one.”

“Hold on. You honestly expect me to believe that you’re some sort of alien?” I asked him disbelievingly.

“This will go much more quickly if you don’t interrupt, Sly,” Discord chastised me for a moment, narrowing his eyes in annoyance before nodding. “And I happen to be a draconequus. I suppose ‘alien’ suffices... although ‘extradimensional’ would likely be more accurate.”

He flipped over a card and placed it face up on the table, but instead of the usual playing card image, it displayed a green and blue world that seemed similar to pictures I had seen of Earth... except the continents were all wrong.

“This is Equis, where I am from,” Discord explained before drawing and laying down another card, this one showing a picture of a lush landscape with colorful-looking feral horses on it. “Also home to Ponykind and numerous other thinking creatures, most of whom live in a country called Equestria.”

He laid out another card, this one showing two creatures that I would’ve considered completely fictional... They looked like the horses from the previous card... but had wings and horns.

“It is a dreadfully boring place, ruled by two elemental spirits much like myself known as Alicorns. They have set themselves up as goddesses to be worshiped among the common mortal beings, and impose a strict rule of law that restrains their subjects from exercising any true free will in the name of peace and security.”

“What’s wrong with a little stability?” I asked, trying not to voice how crazy this whole thing sounded.

“Stability is one thing, Sly. But these princesses champion the status quo to the point of stagnation.” Discord glowered, turning the card over to reveal a military parade of golden armored stallions marching past the two “princesses” in a clearly dictatorial fashion. “Now, as you have no doubt noticed, I am not a saint, and I have never claimed to be. But there are times when a touch of chaos is required to make the world a better place. I have made attempts in the past to ‘liven things up’... Tried to inject a bit of excitement into my precious home. As a spirit of change, that is my duty, after all: To shake things up.”

He laid down another card, which showed a pictogram of himself apparently being “blasted” by six of the brightly-colored equine creatures.

“But the Princesses’ hold over their subjects is far too strong. They cast me out, declaring me a monster all because I wanted to free them from their overly sheltered lives. By now, it’s more of a cult than a government they live under. The ponies are forbidden from advancing... from learning... from voicing opinions. Dissenters and other species are subjugated and exploited by the diarchy... Or in some cases...”

He set down another card, this one showing creatures of a similar build to the ponies, but black with insect-like wings.

“...completely scattered to the winds. Such was the fate of Queen Chrysalis and her Changeling Hive. Declared monsters simply for wanting to be loved and all but obliterated because they had the audacity to attend a wedding uninvited.”

I sighed, surprised at how sympathetic the creature before me sounded as he described the regime his home was under.

“What does this have to do with me?” I asked.

Discord smiled before laying down another card, which showed an odd set of gemstones in a golden circle.

“The diarchy’s entire cult-like authority is held together by a unique form of symbolism. Six gems that are supposed to contain the embodiment of their false goddesses’ power. They are referred to as the ‘Elements of Harmony.’”

I definitely took note of the disdain with which Discord named the gemstones. There was hostility there; more than he had shown at mentioning these two princesses or their vice-grip government.

Turning the card over, he showed a new picture of five ordinately designed necklaces and a tiara, each of which, to my keen eye for value, seemed to equal or perhaps even exceed any of the pieces I had managed to nab in the past.

“The diarchy recently had the Elements set into these pieces of jewelry and gave them out as status symbols to their most loyal followers in order to ‘vanquish’ manufactured threats, duping the average pony into seeing them as extensions of their goddesses’ will.”

“So?”

“So...” Discord leaned forward quicker than I could pull back and tapped the top of my head with his lion-like paw.

There was a sudden flash of light and a shift in the air around me as I felt my fur constrained in some places and falling free in others. A familiar tightness wound around my temples and eyes, and a slight weight perched upon my head. A quick look down at my body and I realized what had happened.

Gone was my formal suit, tie, and slacks. And in their place: the same blue shirt that I had worn on the job for years, my red leg pack wrapped around my thigh, and my blue sneaking boots firmly on my feet.

My hat, gloves, and Binocucom, a custom-made communications, tracking, and photo-taking computer built into what looked like a simple cloth mask, completed the set as I realized I was back in an outfit I had thought I would never wear again.

“You... are going to get them for me.”

I looked up at Discord with a furious glare.

“That’s it?”

“That’s it,” Discord nodded. “Without the Elements, the diarchy will lose its support. All it takes then is a little nudge of chaos and change will be well in hand. Or rather, well in hoof.”

I didn’t like this. There was something that I wasn’t being told here.

“Why don’t you just take them yourself then?” I questioned. “You clearly have the power, ‘Mister Dimension-hopping, Teleporting, Chaos Spirit.’”

Discord made a sour face, setting down the cards as he held out his hands with a disgusted expression.

“Nahh... You see, I tried that once before. Unfortunately, it doesn’t work that way,” he explained, although it seemed as though he hated having to admit his shortcomings in the matter. “There are some laws so ancient that even a Spirit of Chaos must obey.”

Discord then smiled again, picking up the scattered deck and performing an elaborate and showy display of card shuffling.

“You on the other hand...”

He pulled a card off the top of the deck, which I recognized as an image of myself... only from a few years back. The Gossman Heist. A ten million dollar stamp owned by the devious money launderer Chimp Gossman. A stamp I had later mailed Carmelita on a postcard as a joke. My first “impossible” job.

Another card was set down. Another job: The Louvre. My gang and I had stolen dozens of “priceless works” and then sent them to Carmelita with an instruction book on how to identify counterfeits, which in turn exposed the largest art smuggling ring in European history; a conspiracy going all the way up to the Director of the Louvre himself.

One more card hit the table.

Dubbed by the few who were aware of it as the “Crime of the Century.” The assault on the Cooper Vault through what could only be described as the most secure fortress on the planet, built by the former thieving mastermind behind some of the greatest capers in history.

My last job.

“You are a thief. I can get a dictionary if you like, but the general gist is that you steal things,” Discord explained. “Because of that, by breaking the rules I must obey, you are acting within your own rules. For years, I have watched and studied countless others all across the multiverse. Crooks and robbers and burglars of all shapes and sizes. I have gauged their abilities and now, having seen it for myself, I am certain. You are without a doubt the best.”

He leaned back, his expression strangely compassionate.

“If not for me... then for the ponies of Equis. Steal the Elements of Harmony away from them and you can help me save them from their own stagnation... give them the ‘push’ they need to move forward.”

I crossed my arms, refusing to fall for his sappy appeal to my conscience.

“Are you done?”

Discord nodded, which let me push my own concerns back into the light.

“Where’s Carmelita?”

The draconequus deflated a bit, a bored expression over his face.

“Really, Sly. You have got to get over that woman.” Discord sighed with an air of disgust. “She’s been holding you back since you first met. If you weren’t constantly going out of your way to support her career, rescue her, and play the dashing romantic hero, you would be even further along than you are now. We both know that you are the only reason she ever made it to where she is today.”

“We had a deal. I listened,” I told the impossible creature in front of me. “And as sorry as I am for your world and the ‘ponies’ that live there, it’s not my place to impose your change on them. I’m not a revolutionary, or some hero...”

I set my cane out in front of me on the table over the cards that Discord had been laying out, an action that caused the draconequus to narrow his eyes towards me.

“And I am not a thief. Not anymore.”

“I’m disappointed to hear you say that, Mister Cooper,” Discord huffed in annoyance, shaking his head. “Larceny is in your genes, Sly. It’s in your blood, and has been for hundreds of generations. Your ancestors, your father...”

“I am not my father!” I set my hands against the table as I stood. “I’m not Slytunkhamen or Rioichi or Sir Galleth or Henriette! I’m just me! And I listened, just like I promised! Now give her back!”

“Very well...” Discord’s expression shifted, a smile crossing his lips as he picked up his deck of cards again. “Allow me to lay my cards out on the table.”

He fanned the cards out in his claws, then reached up and plucked one seemingly at random, flicking it towards me to land face up on the table.

Looking down, my heart stopped.

Like the others, the card didn’t show a playing suit, but a picture. But it wasn’t an image of ponies or gemstones. This card had instead a perfect representation of a nearly flawless vixen in a black evening dress, her expression one of confusion as she looked up at me, frozen in the image.

Don’t ask me how I knew it was more than just a picture... what made me certain that it wasn’t just a trick. But somehow, I understood that within this card, by some magic or power that was beyond my understanding, was trapped one of the few people in my life that had ever given it any meaning.

My blood all but boiled at a realization that the creature in front of me had pulled a fast one.

“WHAT DID YOU DO!?” I lashed out, our little exchange still going unnoticed by the crowds of people around us.

“We had a deal,” Discord grinned, clearly amused. “She’s right there. You can take her home now.”

As I said before, I’m not a violent raccoon. I would prefer to sneak around and not encounter any resistance at all to actually jumping into a fight.

But that smugness... that superior attitude... that moment of outrage all came together as I dove forward, taking up my cane and putting the haft up under the draconequus’s jaw.

“LET HER GO! NOW!” I demanded, a rage I didn’t even know existed boiling over.

He held me back easily, preventing me from toppling him over. And rather than gasping for breath, the self-proclaimed embodiment of chaos snickered.

“Well, now... The raccoon finally bares his teeth, hmm?” Discord smirked snidingly, clearly still feeling as if I couldn’t do anything to him. “Unfortunately, ontological inertia is in effect. Even if you had the power to strike me down, which you don’t, by the way, it wouldn’t be enough to save them.”

I snarled for a moment, feeling like a feral animal before the last word reached me through the haze in my eyes.

That word took the burning ember that was my fury and dunked it in a bucket of ice water.

“...Them?”

Discord’s grin widened as he brought up one claw and paw on either end of my cane, pushing me back with ease as if I offered no resistance at all before patting the length of ironwood.

“Aren't you curious how I got my hands on this?”

I lost my breath at the implication, gripping the cane all the tighter.

I had left it behind on Kaine Island. My best friend Bentley had found it... and like the Thievius Raccoonus, had kept it in order to keep it safe.

Bentley!

I looked up at Discord, whose smug smile indicated that he was well aware of what conclusion I had drawn... before flipping three more cards down along with the one depicting Carmelita.

A turtle in a wheelchair; he looked like he was waving his arms around and shouting at something.

An oblivious-looking hippo in a racing helmet with a trophy under one arm and a pen in hand, as if signing something.

And a mousey woman with a slight build, blond hair, and a red bandana, brandishing an arc-welder like a dagger.

Bentley... Murray... Penelope...

My glare turned back to Discord, whose grin had taken on a more menacing nature.

“A little added insurance. Although to be fair, the mouse was a bonus. She was quite... adamant in her defense of your cane. I didn’t think she should be left out after such a display of loyalty.”

“You son of a--”

“They are right there, unharmed, although they may be feeling a little ‘flat.’ Feel free to take them,” the draconequus continued, still grinning. “As I said, you still have the choice to decline. Although I haven’t gotten to the part of what’s in it for you.”

I twisted my hands around my cane’s handle, wanting nothing more than to bash in the head of the creature before me, but managing to keep that very strong desire under control as he continued speaking.

“One simple job. Six pieces of jewelry all kept in one place: Canterlot Palace,” he stated simply. “Do this, and I’ll release your friends, bring you all back to your own world, and as an added bonus... I’ll grant you one wish. Just name it. Anything you want.”

“Seriously!?” I said through grit teeth, the sarcasm and anger in my voice so thick it could be cut with a knife.

First flattery, then an emotional sales pitch, followed by kidnapping, extortion, and now bribery!? All of this for a bunch of necklaces and a tiara on an alien world in another dimension run by feral horses and goddesses!?

This was insane even by my standards!

“What is your answer, Sly Cooper?”

I gritted my teeth and looked down at the four cards that were set out on the table, letting out a strangled groan.

“...Fine!” I took one hand off my cane, using it to scoop up my friends and bring them in front of my face. “I’ll do it... For them.”

I barely had time to slip the four cards into my vest pocket before the draconequus grabbed my attention by throwing his mismatched hands into the air.

“Perfect!” Discord’s features were positively alight with excitement, as if he was able to get just what he wanted without having to stoop to such measures. “Let’s get started.”

Feeling a headache throbbing behind my eyes, and very much not wanting to look at this fresh villain's happy expression any more, I closed them, bringing my hand up to rub the corners.

“So, let me get this straight: You want me to go to this ‘Canterlot’ place, steal these ‘Elements of Harmony,’ and get them back here so you can incite some sort of mass revolution against some false goddesses. Does that sound about right?”

I looked up again.

And while I managed to keep my cane from dropping, my jaw wasn’t so lucky.

Gone was the blackjack table and the casino room in Mesa City. Gone were the crowds of people playing the slots and the other games of chance. Gone was any semblance of the modern world I knew as I realized I was surrounded by medieval style stonework and mortar walls, in a large circular room which had multiple bunk bed-like cots set out from the walls.

And standing all around me were more than a dozen stark white feral horses with large, colorful eyes. They all stood at around four feet tall, their heads coming up to around my chest and some were wearing what looked like golden armor.

All of them staring at me as we all stood for a moment in shock like a deer caught in headlights.

Then it struck me.

“Let’s get started.”

Apparently, Discord had meant to add: “right away.”

And apparently, he had also somehow transported me right smack into the middle of a guard barracks.

“Wait... Did I just say that out loud?” I asked somewhat sheepishly as the shock in these white stallions’ eyes quickly turned to outrage.

And that was how I ended up in Equestria.

The Heist: A Royal Welcome

Canterlot Palace, Equestria: 5:38 a.m.

I would like to say that I pulled off some amazing feat of graceful dexterity that dazzled and confounded the guards. Failing that, I probably would’ve tried to smooth-talk them down and convince them that I wasn’t a threat. And if I was really in a pinch, I’m fairly certain that I could at least overpower them with my superior combat skills.

I would like to say that, but the truth is, I really don’t remember specifically what happened in those first few chaotic seconds in Equestria. I can recall a sudden rush of white, the stomping of hooves, someone shouting frantically, feathers everywhere, a couple wooden cots busted apart during my pursuit, and the sound of panicked screaming. (Probably mine. I wasn’t exactly concerned with maintaining an image at the time.)

The next thing I knew, I had somehow managed to get on the other side of a set of large double doors, and had slid my cane into the handles at an angle, blocking it off.

I was panting, with cold sweat dampening the fur along the back of my neck as I tried to make sense out of what I had just experienced.

“Get this door open!” came a gruff voice from inside the room as I took a step back, just as the door buckled outward from a loud and heavy impact. Thankfully, my cane held fast, keeping the way barred in spite of the constant barrage of hooves being slammed into the wood.

As I watched this crazy scene unfold, a part of me wanted to simply burst out laughing at the sheer absurdity of the most ridiculous part.

They were talking. They were feral horses, and yet, when they opened their mouths, something that sounded eerily similar to words came out of them. I’m not gonna lie; it was seriously creeping me out.

Everyone knows ferals can’t talk; it’s unnatural. It’s just one of the many things that differentiates us ordinary, thinking, rational folks from wild animals that operate solely on instinct. It’s particularly jarring if you happen to meet a feral member of your own species; that kind of stuff really gets you thinking.

I’ll never forget the first time I saw a feral raccoon as a kid, and found myself questioning (as most kids eventually do) what it was that made us different. Then the little punk bit me, and on that day I learned a valuable life lesson: Ferals aren’t people.

So suffice it to say, I was not prepared for this kind of eventuality.

Anyway, I’m getting sidetracked. Back to the matter at hand.

In my life, I’ve gotten to know a few horses on both sides of the evolutionary fence. Just from listening to the pony on the other side of the door encouraging his subordinates to work harder and get it open, I was reminded of one Sergeant Clyde Dale (Don’t ask about the name. He doesn’t like to talk about it.) from mine and Carmelita’s department back in Paris.

Back on Earth.

That was when it hit me: I was on a different planet. Hell, maybe even a whole different dimension. The rules were different here, and for someone like me, this was a problem. A major problem.

Most amateurs and cops think that being a thief means your job is to break the rules, but that’s not really the truth. Breaking the rules is the method of gangsters and brutes, when the only thing that matters is getting what you want.

In order to be a master thief, you have to be careful with the rules. You have to know what you’re getting into, how your opposition moves, acts, and thinks, and work around it. You have to know the ins and outs of any given job to even have a chance at completing the heist. Knowing the rules is the first step in coming up with a solid plan of action.

The thing was, I didn’t know how this world worked. Beyond Discord’s little song and dance, I didn’t know a thing about how these ponies operated. And that only left me with one option.

I had to improvise.

I took in my surroundings, my night-sensitive eyes (Have I mentioned how much I love being a raccoon?) having adjusted to the dim lighting of the dark, starry night outside and allowing me to make out the details of a long stone corridor that looked like something right out of a Disney Castle. I’m sure that if a particular turtle was on my comm at that moment, he would have some snappy comment about who built the place or launch into a commentary on the architectural marvel.

As for me? I was just happy to see a window nearby that had a clasp on it.

——————

*SLAM*

The doors strained, a flash of white fur just barely visible through the cracks as the handle of my cane began to slip loose, its angle becoming too steep to hold for much longer.

*SLAM*

The hinges on the door itself seemed to be in worse shape than the sturdy ironwood of my cane, but already, my improvised barricade was just barely staying in position; a fact that was not lost on the ponies in the barracks, as a shout of “One more!” could be heard from within.

*SLAM*

With that last jolt, my cane slipped free of the handles and fell to the ground with an underwhelming amount of fanfare as the doors were thrown open. On the other side, five of the stallions stood flank to flank with their hind legs facing the hall, lowering their hooves after having just delivered a combined assault on the thick wood.

With surprising coordination, five more of the white ponies flew (Yeah, that’s right. Flew. Some of these guys had wings, and what’s more, they actually worked.) over their backwards-facing compatriots and immediately moved into the hallway in a manner that definitely smacked of military training.

After taking a moment to get into position, two ponies, these ones a dark grey with horns on their heads, rushed forward. Like a pair of spotlights, two beams of bright light suddenly shot forth from their horns, illuminating the dim hallway as well as any lantern.

“Clear!” one of the ponies barked; a cry that was echoed multiple times as they moved down the hall and swept their horn-lights into every crack and crevice.

“The creature couldn’t have gotten far!” The more grizzled-sounding stallion, now wearing a form-fitting suit of armor with holes for his wings, moved forward, his eyes darting about. “Sleet! Cobalt! Search the West Wing and inform the Lunar Guard of the intruder! We’re going into lockdown!”

“Sir!” Two of the winged ponies brought themselves up to attention, snapping off a salute with their forelegs (which should have been impossible, what with them being quadrupeds and all), and rushing down one direction with their wings spread wide.

“Arctic! Cyclone! East Wing!”

“Sir!” Two more copied the first duo in both voice and motion, heading down to the end of the hallway and turning into the opposite direction.

“Commander Cumulus!” one of the other ponies spoke up, getting the leader’s attention and drawing it towards the now open window, where a slight draft was blowing in and gently fluttering the drapes. “It must have gone out the window!”

“It’s trying to climb the ramparts!” another soldier, one of the grey, horned ones, concluded as he put the pieces together. “Has to be! I didn’t see any wings on it, no way it can fly.”

“I am not assuming any-bucking-thing!” The leader shook his head, pointing a hoof to the window. “Lieutenant Breeze: take the rest of the unit and search the outer walls! Alert the Lunar Guard flying patrol: Code Lockdown! The castle defenses have been breached!”

As the winged ponies moved to carry out their orders, the apparent leader, “Commander Cumulus,” caught sight of the wooden stick with a golden-metal hook on the end of it, sitting out in the open on the floor.

With a huff, the Commander leaned down, taking the cane up in his teeth and then setting it squarely under his wing, which he folded down to secure the odd object that was clearly designed to be held by a creature that was completely alien to him.

“Bronze, I want you and Tealeaf to report immediately to Princess Luna. Inform her of what’s happened,” the Commander relayed to the two walking flashlights who had just come back from canvassing the hallway.

“Yes, Commander. But... what about you?” one of the soldiers returned, unsure of himself in this unusual situation.

“I’m going to brief Princess Celestia personally. It is nearly dawn. As soon as the sun is up, she’ll undoubtedly task the Solar Guard with taking lead of the investigation.” Commander Cumulus nodded curtly before he started down the hallway at a brisk trot, leaving the remaining two soldiers to run off in the other direction.

Now, I know what you’re probably wondering... How did I know about all of this if I went out the window?

Here’s the kicker: I didn’t.

Let me tell you, holding myself quietly in place among the buttresses at the top of the wall was not the easiest thing in the world. I mean, I’m good, but I’m not a spider. Sweat was matting my fur, my shoulders were already growing sore from holding the position as my arms braced against two support struts, and I could feel my legs complaining as I kept them twisted at an awkward angle to support my weight.

Still, it had been worth it. Like any cop worth their salt, the ponies followed the line of clues. An abandoned weapon, an open window, and the assumption that I had bolted away like a panicked jackrabbit. Now they were sure to look everywhere for me, except in the place they were “sure” I had just fled from.

Seems like no matter how many times this stuff happens, even across dimensions, nobody ever thinks to look up.

Thanks to my Sly on the wall (badum-tish!) performance, I had also learned a great deal from watching their interactions.

The horned ones had flashlights on their heads and the winged ones could fly pretty fast; both good things to know. They didn’t act like cops, more like a military force, which was something I had less experience with. There was definitely a degree of discipline among them, but there was also signs of division. Lunar Guard? Solar Guard? I didn’t know the details, but it sounded like two separate agencies that might have been on the same team but didn’t necessarily get along.

For now, I filed these little facts away as something to concern myself with later. The ruse had worked, but now came the tricky part, as I quickly and quietly eased my way down from the ceiling and inaudibly landed on the floor in a crouch.

It was time to play Follow the Leader.

——————

I hate to admit it, but Discord might’ve been right about missing the kinds of feelings I was experiencing at that moment. The fear and the thrill, the surge of adrenaline, the absolute rush of playing cat and mouse on an unsuspecting target. I won’t lie; it felt good to be back in the saddle (pun not intended).

I watched his movements as he trotted down the hall at a brisk speed, forcing me to move quickly and quietly from cover to cover while keeping a constant awareness of my surroundings. I tried to keep the slight golden sparkle that was the head of my cane, held tightly against the pony’s flank, in my sight as I darted between one lavish wall tapestry to the next.

I was sitting behind a large marble column with a pot of colorful flowers on top when I was almost noticed by another winged pony that darted around a corner and past Cumulus. This one looked nothing like the muscular white stallions from before, being of a more lithe, likely female, persuasion. Her fur and mane was colored dark cobalt with armor of a lighter blue coupled with gleaming silver, and a pair of bat-like wings was keeping her aloft. And that wasn’t even the weirdest part, as her wide, bright yellow eyes appeared to have neat little slits for the pupils, almost like a reptile’s.

That must have been one of the “Lunar Guard,” I figured, and now I found myself wondering just how many different kinds of these ponies there were.

I shook those random, niggling thoughts from my head; I had to stop thinking about that sort of thing. Idle curiosity was the enemy here, and I had a job to do.

Focus on the job. Follow the cane... Easier said than done.

Commander Cumulus knew that there was something wrong here, so he was already on high alert, and the nature of our surroundings didn’t help much. The hallways were narrow, hiding spots were spaced out more than I’d like, and on several occasions I was forced to follow the stallion up tall sets of spiraling staircases. Those regal corridors didn’t offer much in the way of cover, and I’m pretty sure that he felt my eyes on him a couple of times, as he sometimes paused and did a slight turn of the head before shrugging it off and continuing on his way.

Your average thief couldn’t have pulled of a successful tail of a trained military professional in a completely unfamiliar area after already having his presence revealed. Thankfully, Discord was right in his appreciation of my abilities: I was anything but average.

Finally, Cumulus arrived at his destination. How could I tell? Three words:

Big. Fancy. Doors.

The end of the hallway was marked by a door that looked like a monument unto itself. Heavy, solid oak, nearly two stories tall, and painted white and gold with detailed reliefs of the sun painstakingly carved into it. And under the massive wooden sun were carvings of dozens of ponies running about and frolicking happily. The drawing style reminded me of something out of a cartoon, all simple lines and bright colors, and it made me wish those were the kinds of ponies I had to deal with at the moment, and not the ones who were currently hell-bent on apprehending me.

I crouched behind a suit of plate armor (I am not making this up. An actual suit of armor like you see in rich people’s houses in old movies, except, you know, pony-shaped), and tried to make sure I remained aware of my surroundings. I didn’t want anyone sneaking up on me as I watched the Commander hesitantly bring a hoof to the door.

The door opened before he could knock, drawing back to reveal a new creature so... for lack of a better word, “radiant” that I had to blink several times as my night vision was painfully seared away.

I recognized her immediately as one of the “alicorns” from Discord’s card trick. Now, I don’t like to use the word “awe-inspiring,” but the truth was that the image he had shown me didn’t come close to representing the raw beauty of the being standing there, towering over the armored guard. With spotless white fur that glowed to the point that she seemed to light up the hallway, and a mane and tail that shifted and flowed like a living watercolor painting, the bejeweled golden yoke and tiara that fit snugly around her wings and horn seemed like completely unnecessary additions.

I’ve never been a religious person, but upon seeing this regal creature in the flesh, I no longer had any doubts as to why these ponies thought of her as their “goddess.”

The thought was given further credence as the Commander immediately kowtowed, leaning forward in a clearly submissive manner with his forelegs spread in what must have been their equivalent of a bow.

“Commander Cumulus?” the alicorn inquired, her tone wise and kind, but also puzzled. “What are you doing outside my chambers at this hour? Dawn is still some time away.”

“A thousand apologies, Your Majesty.” Cumulus stood at attention. “But an emergency has come up that could not wait until after the changing of the guard. There is an intruder in the palace.”

The way the Princess’ eyes narrowed at the word “intruder” sent a shiver down my spine.

“Changelings?” she asked, sounding grave.

Changelings? Didn’t Discord mention those guys?

“No, Princess. It is some new and malicious beast we have never seen before.”

“Malicious beast”? I think that’s a little uncalled for.

“You have my full attention, Commander. Explain.”

Cumulus obeyed, giving the winged, horned, horse-like authority figure an accounting of what happened. “As I was rousing the morning shift for the changing of the guard, the creature appeared suddenly in the center of the barracks. I thought it to be some sort of diamond dog, but smaller, and wearing a strange, foreign garb.” The soldier pony’s face soured a little as he came to the next part. “It seemed not to notice us at first, and it was boasting openly about its intentions. The mangy creature stated that it had come to claim the Elements of Harmony, and it clearly means Princess Luna and yourself harm.”

Hey! I thought, immediately looking down at my legs to make sure there was no trace of mange. I take offense to that comment!

“A hostile diamond dog could not have infiltrated the palace grounds, much less the barracks, without being detected.” Celestia sounded skeptical, but at the same time concerned. “Not with the new security measures in place since the wedding.”

Security measures? I thought, immensely curious. I don’t suppose you could go into detail? That would be very helpful.

“If the events of the wedding have taught us nothing else, Your Highness, it is that our defenses are hardly impenetrable.” Cumulus shook his head before unfolding his wing, bringing a hoof up to take hold of the cane and present it to his royal patron. “It was carrying this.”

The Princess’s horn glowed a pale, misty yellow, with a similar aura surrounding my cane.

Now, I myself am no stranger to magic, but whenever I’ve come across it, it usually tended to be the darker stuff. Whatever this so-called “goddess” was doing now just didn’t strike me as the same flavor of mojo used by mystics such as Miz Ruby or Tsao, but all the same, magic in any form tended to really up-end my plans, so I would have to be careful.

The yellow glow around my cane lifted it up from the Commander’s grasp, and she reached out one of her long, gracious forelegs to run a gilded hoof over the ironwood haft.

“...It is no diamond dog, of that, I am certain,” Celestia remarked, holding the weapon with an appraising expression. “This artifact is made of materials I am not familiar with. And its aura... It is not of this world.” Her gaze returned to Cumulus, who remained standing at attention. “Where is this creature now?”

“It left behind the stave when it fled the barracks, Your Highness.”

“It escaped?” Celestia’s tone darkened as her eyes narrowed, looking over my cane with suspicion again.

“Fled, Your Majesty,” Cumulus was quick to reinforce his point. “My entire battalion is already on the hunt for it and the Lunar Guard have been alerted to the intruder’s presence. I also sent two of my best stallions to report the situation directly to Princess Luna. It will not remain hidden for long.”

So they had an entire castle on alert for a prowler, searching every nook and cranny both inside and out. This was actually a very good thing for me. It meant that their forces were spread thin, too occupied trying to catch me rather than consolidating their forces around my real objective. If they had done that instead, it would have doomed any chance I had of getting my friends out of those cards that were safely tucked away in my shirt’s breast pocket.

The only problem facing me now was the fact that I was betting everything on a clever little strategy defined in The Thievius Raccoonus as the “Self-assurance Approach.”

Thaddius Winslow Cooper the Third’s entry in my family’s thieving handbook described it as the immediate, paranoid impulse people had when they were informed that there was a thief on the prowl for a specific, treasured item of theirs. It was a classic ploy used to capitalize on a mark’s need to prove to themselves that the item in question was still secure, which would in turn lead the cunning Cooper right to its secret hiding place.

True, it was basic, but it was the best plan I had. Trying to explore an entire castle looking for some kind of hidden treasure or vault was too dangerous while its occupants were scouring every inch looking for an intruder. And even if I was crazy enough to try it (which I wasn’t), the coming dawn would have stripped me of one of the only advantages I could claim to have at the moment: the cover of dark.

“I only have a few minutes before the Sun must rise,” Celestia remarked worriedly, shaking her head as she tucked my cane under her own wing. “Come, Commander, to the Elements Vault! There is not a moment to lose!”

Jackpot!

I smiled as the Princess broke into a sudden gallop, pulling myself down and making myself as small as I could while she ran right by my hiding spot without so much as a flicker of a glance. After all, it was a suit of armor she must have passed by every morning for who knows how long. Nothing worth examining for the briefest of moments, and certainly not worth looking behind.

Especially after I quickly vacated the space in hot pursuit of my mark.

——————

Okay, keeping up with a “trotting” talking feral pony in the narrow confines of the castle was difficult. Keeping up with a “galloping” pair of ponies, one of which being easily twice the size of the chest-high equines that I’d seen thus far? That was a challenge.

I didn’t have the luxury of being stealthy now. At this point, it was all I could do to not lose sight of the two ponies as they moved down the hallways, both well aware of where they were going. So, what was keeping any one of the soldiers that were now searching the castle from spotting me stalking their Princess and the Commander?

Nothing. Absolutely nothing. A fact that I was keenly aware of as I moved to keep pace, hoping that the two ponies I was tailing would not hear my footsteps or chance a look behind them to take note of the raccoon that was following them, as plain as the day that would shortly be upon us.

I attributed it to sheer luck that I wasn’t caught as the pair moved up a set of stairs and into a regal, well-decorated corridor with a checkered marble floor and a long, red carpet rolled down the center. Along with the high walls and soaring ceilings with so many banners hanging overhead, there was a series of tall, arching windows, a hanging urn of white flowers set between each one to give the area a fragrant scent. Lining both sides of the massive room, every other window was made of stained glass, depicting in immaculate color and clarity various scenes that I assumed represented particularly noteworthy occurrences for the ponies. Unfortunately, even being the art lover that I am, I found myself instead concerned with a critical piece of information pertaining to my current plan.

There was absolutely no cover to be had. None whatsoever.

I could only watch from the threshold of the doorway, keeping crouched down as my eyes scanned the room. Both the Princess and her accompaniment had slowed to a steady walk now that they were in sight of their destination, so at least there was that.

As I laid eyes on the other end of the cavernous hall, one thing was made abundantly clear to me: these ponies sure loved their big fancy doors. This one, while not quite as large as the one with the giant sun carving on it, was a purple and magenta rectangle with six circles running down the sides, framed by a thick, wide arch that couldn’t have been made of anything other than pure gold. Not only that, but the arch itself was inlaid with a trio of sparkling gems on both sides that were each bigger than my head.

The thing practically screamed: “I am a very important door.” Hell, just the archway itself was probably worth millions, so what did that say about the things it was protecting?

After sparing a few seconds to ponder this, I then took stock of my current situation. The two ponies were almost to the end of the hall, but if I approached now, I was sure to be spotted anyway. And given what was at stake, I couldn’t risk that.

There has to be another route. There’s always another...

My eyes caught on one of the window sills nearest to the doorway, and I could make out the faint, misty outline of a blue aura snaking its way underneath the crack.

There was that good ol’ Cooper Clan sixth sense, right on cue to give me some much-needed direction. And here I was starting to think I had lost it after wearing the badge for so long.

I couldn’t help but smirk as I quickly and quietly leaped over to the sill, careful not to give away my position as I unbolted the window and slipped out into the early morning air.

The ledge on the other side was less than two inches wide, but my lifetime of training made it feel as stable as a skywalk as I edged my way across the outer wall. Below me, I got my first glimpses of the whole castle, as well as the surrounding city and countryside, splayed out before me in the dim pre-morning light. But I could admire the view later. I was too busy double checking every window as I crossed it to make sure my shadow didn’t catch the attention of the two ponies inside, and my ears twitched as I tried to make out their muffled conversation.

“I understand your concern, Your Majesty,” Cumulus started as the pair continued their walk towards the end of the corridor. “But as you can see, the door is still sealed. The Elements are safe.”

“It certainly appears that way, but I have taken the safety of the Elements for granted once before,” Celestia answered, her voice grim. “I shall not make the same mistake again.”

“I will summon the Guard and have them stationed throughout and around the tower, Princess.”

Celestia nodded her approval to the stallion before making the last few steps up to the “very important door.” Meanwhile, I ducked to the side, hiding behind the narrow strip of stone wall between the last two windows as Cumulus turned and spread his wings before taking off back down the hallway.

I heard Celestia sigh morosely, causing me to chance taking a look through the side window.

She looked... tired. Maybe even exhausted. I remember thinking to myself that she probably wasn’t much of a morning person; I could sympathize.

It lasted only a moment before she recomposed herself, leaning forward with her eyes closed as she slid her long horn into a small hole located in the center of a small sun decal on its surface. The instant she did so, a bright, neon blue shot outwards from the hole through the lines carved into the stone, as that same light cast forth from the six circles running down the sides.

I had absolutely no idea what she was doing, but it certainly looked impressive. The air was so full of energy now, I could feel a slight tingle run across my fur like a static charge, even from outside.

Realizing my window of opportunity wouldn’t last long, I reached into my thigh-pouch, immediately feeling what I needed and pulling it free: a single flat lockpick, designed for just this sort of task. Deftly, while still maintaining my balance on the quote-unquote “ledge,” I managed to slip the thin metal strip into the tiny gap where the windows closed together, nudging and dislodging the simple clasp which allowed the window to quietly open outward.

Celestia had not noticed, much to my relief, as she was completely focused on her current task. By this point, the light-show was over, both halves of the door having split down the middle and slid into the sides. I couldn’t see into the room beyond, but I didn’t need to, as a large jewel-encrusted case gently floated out past the threshold, wrapped in the same magic aura that emanated from her horn. Target acquired.

My heart was racing as I tried to think of how I was going to do this. Assuming the hole in the center of the vault door was some sort of “lock,” then picking it was out of the question, and nabbing the “key” was even more so. This was the closest I was ever going to get to my goal.

Speaking of which, just then, the case opened wide, revealing a set of five necklaces and a tiara, all of which glittered and sparkled in the light given off by the pony princess.

Had I been looking at them just a day, or even an hour earlier, my eyes would have gone wide at the treasures that lay within. Five golden necklaces and a tiara, set with precious stones of a variety of colors, cut into the shapes of, of all things, an apple, a butterfly, a balloon, a lightning bolt, a diamond, and a starburst.

Each of those gems was at least the size of the famous Hope Diamond, maybe even a few carats bigger, and there were six of them. Add to that the sheer gold-weight of the jewelry they were set in, plus the obvious masterwork of the pieces’ craftsmanship, and the trinkets in that case could very well have been worth more than any of the treasures that lay sleeping in the Cooper Vault.

It’s a real pity, then, that their beauty was thrown off by the freaking solid gold archway that lined the entrance to the place they were kept. Either the idea of “value” was terribly skewed in this universe, or those six items were significant in ways that were beyond concepts of mere physical worth. I suppose that should’ve been a clue, but I had other things on my mind at the moment.

My concentration snapped back into focus as Celestia gave a heavy sigh of relief, and the case closed shut. Any second now, she would place the Elements back in the vault and seal them inside once more.

My heart sped up as I realized that this was my chance, and I had to act now.

But before that, let’s get one thing straight: I am a master thief. For me, that means that a successful job is one where I nab something (preferably heavily guarded), leave a calling card, and am long gone before anyone even knows I was there. Unfortunately, many of my past heists have also required that I go toe to toe with some very nasty characters in order to relieve them of things that were not rightfully theirs.

Unfortunately, my every instinct told me that this occasion didn't fall into either of those categories.

In the split second before I acted, I couldn’t help but feel disgusted with myself for what I was about to do, and if it were under any other circumstances, I wouldn’t have done it in the first place. Treasure is just treasure. It’s won and lost all the time.

The lives of my friends, however, were irreplaceable. So I didn’t really have any other option.

I rushed her.

Swinging around, I reached up and caught hold of the top of the window sill, using the leverage to add to my momentum as I made for a dramatic entry. Finally taking note of me, Celestia’s head twisted about, shock in her eyes as her wings flared open. This, in turn, caused my cane to fall free from where it was tucked against her body.

I can’t say that I planned for this specific reaction, but when I heard my cane hit the ground with a soft clatter, that became my first priority. I capitalized on the alicorn’s shock to dive under her legs, snatch up my family heirloom, and roll to my feet on her opposite side.

As she started to turn around, there was a split second where she was still confused by my sudden and unexpected entry. The delay in her reaction presented me with the perfect opportunity to club her.

Wait, wait, hold your horses (Okay, that one was intentional). I said that I had the opportunity, but the thought of actually going through with it was never even an option. I wanted to come out of this with as much of my morality intact as I could, and as much as I knew, Celestia had done nothing to deserve that kind of treatment.

So instead, I held off for a fraction of a second, allowing her to turn her attention back to me before swinging out with the hook of my cane.

As I expected (and hoped) she instinctively drew back, which allowed my cane to sail harmlessly past her head, missing her by a safe few inches as it continued to its intended target.

I felt the weight as the hook met its mark and overpowered whatever resistance was holding it aloft in the air, while a twist of my wrist sent it towards me where I managed to catch the gem-studded case between my free arm and chest like a professional American football player.

My first thought was on how oddly light the case of jewelry seemed. My second was the onset of a sudden feeling of guilt that I felt the need to vocalize.

“Sorry!” I managed in as apologetic a tone as one can offer when they are quite literally robbing you right in front of your face. “I need to borrow these!”

I allowed the momentum of my swing to turn me around, and dug in my heels just enough to stop myself as I faced the exit. Then I bolted, intending to use the Princess’ last few seconds of utterly stunned inactivity to put as much distance between myself and her as I could. Once I was out of danger, I could start trying to form a plan to escape the castle with my precious cargo in tow.

I’d done it. I’d gotten the goods. The hard part, at least, was over now.

*THUMP*

Or so I’d thought, as I felt my nose, followed by the rest of my face, impact against something that felt like hard rubber, and right then I found myself remembering one of Bentley’s golden rules that I had apparently neglected.

“No job is over until the team is back in the safehouse.”

I rebounded off of the unexpected resistance and fell back onto a surface with the same consistency, and I didn’t have a chance to recover before I felt a sudden sense of vertigo. Feeling my connection with the floor vanish as I was lifted up, I managed to keep my grip on the cane and the case while I shakily got to my feet to discover what had happened.

I was trapped in a floating bubble of light, everything around me now visible through a slightly gold-colored filter. Unfortunately, the pleasant lighting didn’t do anything to dampen the sheer outrage that was clear on Celestia’s face as she glared at me, her horn alight in the same color.

Oh, right... Magic.

In case I wasn’t clear earlier, I really hate magic.

“How... dare you.” Celestia looked like she was barely holding her composure, the insult clear on her expression as she slowly walked towards my prison while I kicked the surface lightly with my foot, testing its elasticity. “How dare you!”

“Uhhh...” I hesitated before attempting to flash her a charming smile, hoping I didn’t come across as a smartass. “Would it help if I asked nicely?”

Nope, I definitely came across as a smartass, judging by the trembling of her lip, which was curled up into a disgusted sneer.

“...I’ll take that as a ‘no.’”

Celestia’s pink eyes swept over my imprisoned form, like she was trying and failing to understand what kind of threat I represented, and it occurred to me just how alien I must have looked to her. Not surprising, given how utterly strange she appeared to me.

My suspicions were confirmed as her anger faded just the tiniest bit, replaced by a wary curiosity. “What... are you?”

“Hey, I’m not a ‘what,’ I’m a ‘who,’” I responded, my mouth acting before my brain could apply an appropriate filter. “See? I can talk and everything.”

I can’t help it. I snark when I’m in dangerous situations. It’s part of my charm.

“The ability to speak does not automatically denote intelligence,” Celestia stated coldly, and she shook her head, apparently annoyed by my antics already. “In any case, it hardly matters. Whatever wicked intentions you harbor for Equestria by stealing the Elements of Harmony ends now!”

“Hey! Look, lady! I don’t have any ‘intentions’ for Equestria, wicked or otherwise.” I shook my head as I tried to explain myself. “I don’t even want to be here. I’d rather just get what I came for and go without hurting anyone else! So just let me out of this thing, and I promise this doesn’t have to get any more messy than it already is.”

For some reason, that sounded so much better in my head.

“You dare to threaten me!?” Celestia’s eyes took on an otherworldly glow as she shouted, forcing me to flatten my ears as the decibel level skyrocketed way beyond your average heavy metal rock concert. “Your actions this day are reprehensible enough, yet you persist in insulting me with idle threats of violence! I will not stand for it!”

“Oh, good. Because I’d just hate to do something you’d disapprove of,” I replied with a little more sarcasm than was probably conducive to my health. Well, I say probably, but it was more like definitely, as there was no doubt that my big mouth had just pissed off the equine demi-goddess even more.

“I WILL HEAR NO MORE OF YOUR DISRESPECT, OUTSIDER! YOU WILL ANSWER FOR YOUR CRIMES, OR STAND AS STONE IN THE CANTERLOT GARDENS!”

That part got my attention.

“I... don’t suppose that’s supposed to be a metaphor? Like standing in a timeout, or...”

“BE SILENT!” Her horn flashed a potent, brilliant golden that was bright enough to make me wince, causing me to bring one hand, the one still holding my cane, up to shield my eyes.

Several seconds passed, with me holding my breath in preparation for whatever nastiness Celestia had planned for me. Then a couple more seconds, and as I felt my lungs start to ache for some fresh air, I slowly breathed out and chanced opening my eyes to see what was going on.

“...Okay. That was rather anti-climatic,” I stated as I lowered my hand. Really, given the tense build-up, I was expecting more than another light-show.

The glow in Celestia’s eyes faded as she recoiled in shock, taking a step back. “But... how...?” she stammered for a moment.

Okay, so it wasn’t just an attempt to intimidate me... Judging by her reaction, whatever she’d tried to do had obviously failed to connect. It was then that I noticed the slight reddish distortion in my magic prison as the end of my cane came near the edge of the bubble.

The pony princess must have noticed it too, because she took an unsteady breath, and I could see the righteous fury in her face literally draining away, replaced by something else. Something that looked an awful lot like fear.

“Wh-who... Who are you?”

I put two and two together, and although I really didn’t know exactly what was going on, I wasn’t about to pass up what could’ve been my only chance to escape.

“My name is Sly. Sly Cooper,” I managed, probably sounding a great deal more confident than I actually felt as I flipped the cane up into a proper grip. “And I’m outta here.”

With a swift stroke, I brought the hook of my cane down in front of me, impacting the dome with a loud “clang” while keeping the jewelry case tucked under one arm.

I was expecting a chip. Hoping for a crack. What happened instead was something I hadn’t anticipated in the slightest.

There was a sudden explosion of light and sound from the point of impact, and even as I could see the sphere breaking apart where I had hit it, I could also see a lance of magical energy arcing outwards from that point... right towards Princess Celestia.

As her eyes went wide, she barely had time to utter a short gasp before the bolt connected.

*KZZZZT-ZAP*
*THOOM*

I grunted as I felt the shockwave hit my chest, the rest of the bubble dissolving around me and dropping me the rest of the way to the floor.

As I recovered my wits from the event and brought myself to my feet, one look at where the equine monarch was now laying made me breathe out in a shudder.

“Oh, man... Ohhhh, man...” I managed, horrified by what I had done, even if it was inadvertently.

Celestia looked like a small bomb had been exploded at the tip of her horn, which was now blackened and slightly smoking. She was still conscious, if the pained look in her half-lidded eyes was any evidence, but I wasn’t sure she was fully aware of her surroundings as she panted for breath.

I gripped my cane tightly as I looked around the room, my heart racing.

As much as I wanted to make sure that the alicorn was alright, I knew that I was running out of time. At least she was alive, and any moment now, Cumulus would be rushing back with an army of horses that could tend to her injury.

And when they found their beloved “Princess” in this state, I got the feeling that the word “retaliation” was going to take on a whole new meaning for me. I had to get out of there.

And so, in what was quickly becoming my worst job ever, I did something that I never once thought I would do. It made me sick to my stomach... but I ran.

I ran... leaving the princess I had injured behind.

——————

Out the window and up to the roof I went. The tower’s battlement made it too difficult to attempt scaling down the wall, so I had to hope that there was an easier way down from elsewhere on the tower. A support line or perhaps some spires that I could use to get down to the cityscape that I now saw in the faint pre-dawn light below me.

Any other time I might have taken a moment to look it over, but as it was, I was now in rush mode. Sightseeing had to wait.

The climb wasn’t difficult, even with the somewhat-awkward case still in hand, but unfortunately the ease of the ascent only gave me a moment to consider what I was doing.

Sure, Discord has said that these Princesses were suppressing this world in a tyrannical rule, but all the same, I hadn’t exactly witnessed any of that tyranny yet. The only ponies I had seen were soldiers and the Princess herself, and they only looked like they were going about their business. That made it hard to justify this job as doing the right thing, regardless what was at stake for me personally.

It’s funny... When I was younger, I always romanticized my role as a thief. I wanted to be the dashing hero that swooped in, robbed the bad guys, and swept the girl off her feet. The people I stole from were always far worse than me; the worst kind of unrepentant scum the world had to offer.

This... This felt different.

I felt dirty. Like a common thug that had simply broken into someone’s home and stolen their TV and piggy bank.

Get the necklaces and the tiara, get Carmelita and the others back, and get home, I told myself, trying to block out my doubts as I pulled myself to the top of the tower. I leapt up, twisting my body to utilize the Rioichi Cooper patented “Ninja Spire Jump” technique, catching the tip of the spire with my feet and holding in a crouched position.

Taking just a moment to look at the chest, I opened it slightly and assured myself that the cargo was still there.

Five necklaces and a tiara.

I closed the case again and looked around. I needed an exit, and fast.

There were some banners and ribbons I might have been able to use to get down to ground level, but none were attached to this particular tower. And I saw no points that I could use to jump across to the closest one.

I needed to...

“Stop, thief!”

I nearly fell from my perch as I turned, taking notice of the figure that gracefully rose from below.

She was slightly smaller than Celestia, but built in a similar manner. Her coat was a dark blue and her mane flowed and shimmered like a starry night sky. Her wings beat rhythmically as she came up to eye level with me.

I turned my head, holding the case to my chest as my cane was held loosely in the other hand.

All around me, dozens of the white-coated winged ponies in armor and the dark blue and grey ponies with bat wings rose up, completely surrounding me, but holding back, as if unsure on how to proceed.

I figured this must have been how King Kong felt at the end of the movie, except instead of biplanes, I had a talking pony goddess and her army of flying soldiers.

This was not good. In fact, this was as close to a worst case scenario as I ever got without thirty foot tall genetic monsters being involved.

The alicorn in front of me remained level, somehow easily keeping her body aloft while maintaining a mask of stoicism.

“I do not know why you are doing this, outsider,” the night-themed alicorn managed while keeping her tone level. Her accent sounded strangely upper-class and Victorian compared to Celestia’s more casual and neutral accent. Although there was clearly a hint of hostility in her voice as she stomped a hoof angrily at the air. “But it all ends here! You have nowhere left to go. Surrender the Elements peacefully and you shall be treated with dignity.”

“Well, gee... How thoughtful of you,” I answered, stalling for time as I looked around for any possible means of escape. “...But I’m afraid I’ll have to turn you down.”

There was always a way out, I knew there had to be. I couldn’t let it end like this, not when everyone was counting on me.

“I pray that you reconsider. It would be a wise decision...” the blue pony began again as I looked back to her, her expression smug. Just then, I noticed a wisp of blue gathering around her horn, and the thought of having to put up with even more magic crap seriously put a damper on my already dour outlook. “It is either that, fall to your doom, or learn how to fly.”

I looked at her face, still carrying that smug, victorious expression, and I could hear a batch of restrained snickers from the soldiers surrounding me. Then, I happened to take another look at her horn, still giving off that same bluish mist.

Wait a second...

My heart took a leap as I made an observation that I had completely missed earlier. When Celestia had used magic, her horn was glowing, not smoking.

In spite of my situation, I found myself grinning.

“I might not be able to fly...” I offered as my legs tensed, desperately hoping that I wasn’t just seeing things.

I pushed off and forward, directly at the starry-maned alicorn.

“Princess Luna!” one of the guards cried out in horror as I bore down on the princess, who reacted by bracing for an attack, yet still holding her position in the air.

Then I twisted... and pressed my weight against her body as I landed a perfectly executed Spire Jump on her horn.

“...but I can still jump!” I followed up as I pushed off, sending the pony princess down in the air as she wobbled, her wings frantically beating to correct her altitude after the unexpected shove.

It couldn’t have been more perfect. She was exactly the required distance between my spire and the next, and I had angled myself in such a way that my momentum would carry me right in the path of one of the banner wires connecting it and the ground below. All I would need was to catch the line with the hook of my cane and I could zipline all the way to safety.

Time seemed to slow down as I readied my arm to make the catch, and right in that moment, with the heady sense of victory at my impending escape close at hand, I had to wonder how in the world I could ever give this up.

*THUMPH*

“Oof!”

Yeah... maybe that had something to do with it.

Have you ever been hit really hard by something going really fast while in midair? If not, then let me share a little secret with you: it isn’t pleasant.

A winged pony soldier completely blindsided me, sending me careening wildly off-course as I struggled to hold on to my cane.

My other arm, however, didn’t have as firm a grip over the awkwardly shaped bundle I had been holding close to my chest. I could only watch helplessly as the box fell free, utterly unable to prevent what happened next.

The lid flew open, and in an instant, five necklaces and a tiara were all airborne, hanging for just a moment before they began to fall.

With barely a fraction of a second to react, I pushed against the weight of the pony that had tried to tackle me and sent him careening off to the side while I blindly cast my arm out, grasping for anything in reach.

Just as I felt my fingers close over something cool and metallic, the world cranked back up to normal speed, and the next thing I heard was a horrified cry from several voices at once.

“THE ELEMENTS!”

I was still falling, all but forgotten as the flying ponies nearest to what had happened immediately dove either for the falling jewelry or for the guard that had intercepted me.

I had to twist my body violently to get into the right position as I dropped, grateful for all of my past experiences with free-falling and precision hooking with my trusty cane as I came into reach of a banner line.

I could’ve made it before the flying pony tackled me, but now? Now it was a gamble. If I couldn’t manage to snag the line, then my story... as well as the stories of my friends... would end with my death on the stone ramparts of the castle.

...

...

...

No, I’m not trying to build suspense. It’s just that, looking back on it now, I realize how insanely lucky it was that I actually managed to hit the line.

Thankfully, the thick cable was tough enough not to break under my weight as it was caught in the hook of my cane, and I breathed an immense sigh of relief as I felt the friction running down its length. It was about now that I also realized something very troublesome about my exit strategy that I hadn’t considered before.

I had just injured, insulted, and to add further insult to injury (which was redundant enough at this point), I had blatantly stolen some incredibly valuable artifacts from two rulers of an alien world that was inhabited by creatures that were so completely alien to me that I had absolutely zero chance of hiding or blending into the crowd.

I had nowhere to go, noone to turn to for help, and not a single clue as to how I was supposed to get back into contact with Discord to turn in the...

I winced, gritting my teeth as I held up the golden necklace in my hand; my only spoils from this heist that had surely been doomed from the start.

It was a beautiful piece of jewelry, no doubt about it, with a brilliant red ruby cut into the shape of a thunderbolt nestled between a golden neckpiece with such finely wrought detail that it would make any jeweler weep at the sight of it. But it was only one sixth of what my psychotic patron wanted.

And so ended the sloppiest, most unsuccessful job of my entire career as a--

“No job is over until the team is back in the safehouse."

Bentley’s words of wisdom rang in my ears as I snapped out of my self-depreciating critique, turning to look over my shoulder.

Apparently, the winged ponies had not forgotten about me at all. I could see them silhouetted against the castle in hot pursuit of my slide to the surface. I knew they would easily follow the banner line I was on all the way down to its anchor, and from there... Well, one look at a crowd and they would see pony-pony-pony-raccoon-pony-pony.”

~One of these things just doesn’t belong here.~

Looking down below me, I took note of the streets of the city under the castle’s shadow. And there, I saw my salvation: A large cart, filled to the brim with hay.

Hoping beyond hope that it was full to brimming with actual hay and that it wasn’t just used as packing material, I timed my decent, then twisted my wrist just so, pulling the hook of the cane free and allowing me to fall at an angle for the remaining sixty or so feet into the hay-wagon.

*FLUMPH*

It wasn’t exactly a soft landing, but at least I didn’t break anything. In an instant, my entire world was obscured by thick, dried out straws of the golden-green grass. But as the dry fluff of horse feed quickly fell in behind me, obscuring my impact and covering me over, I could only hope that the ponies tailing me had not seen where I had fallen.

I wasn’t sure what I was going to do next, but I dared not move an inch as I kept my ears perked and ready for any sign of pursuit. I could hear shouting coming from above me, the exact words muffled by my cover, but I couldn’t get a sense of how close it was.

Then, there was silence for a few seconds, before I heard the same voice call out, sounding a great deal further away than before, and I dared to hope that I had successfully avoided notice.

I was so tense, I almost jumped a foot in the air as I suddenly felt the wagon lurch forward, but I managed to keep a startled yelp from escaping past my lips. I was moving now. The now-constant back-and-forth rocking of the cart was evidence enough of this.

I didn’t notice any beasts of burden hooked up to the wagon when I was falling towards it. Wait, would ponies use other animals? Or would they just pull it themselves? Were there “feral” versions of them too?

I mulled that over for a few moments before I fell silent, realizing that this was actually a good thing.

If the wagon was being moved by its owner away from its position under the banner I was ziplining down, then there was a far better chance of escaping from the guards. Better yet, if this thing was headed outside of town, I could make a clean getaway without the chance of anyone even seeing me.

I don’t know how long I was laying in that hay pile, or even if I managed to fall asleep. For the longest time I just went over what had happened in my head again and again, my ears sometimes perking when I heard the muffled sounds of conversation around me.

The wagon just kept on moving as I tried to figure out where everything went wrong. Finally, I decided the answer to that question was: “when I accepted the damn job in the first place.”

With little else to do and nobody to talk to as my unaware chauffeur continued on his route to wherever he was going, I reached into my vest pocket and pulled out the four cards that Discord had given me.

Thankfully, they were completely undamaged in spite of all of the jostling around, even with the unexpected impact from the flying pony, but still, it pained me to see the unmoving images of my friends in the compressed paper.

After what felt like an eternity of looking at them helplessly, I found my eyes drawn to the lightning bolt ruby necklace. While I should have been glad to at least come away with something, I couldn’t help but feel like it was a symbol of my complete failure.

I had them! All of them! They were right in my hands, and then I had to go and trip over the finish line like a total fool.

I had the chance to set them all free... and I blew it.

And now I didn’t even know how I was supposed to get in touch with--

*Creeeeeeak*

*THUMP*

I felt a sudden jerk as the wagon came to an abrupt stop. For a few seconds, I looked around, unsure what to do or what to expect. Was this the end of the line? Should I make a break for it?

And then the hay around me suddenly lifted away in an enormous pile, exposing its furry raccoon center, and causing me to shift awkwardly when I sat up.

As I looked up at the face that was there to greet me, I didn’t know which emotion could most accurately describe what I should’ve felt.

Relief... or disgust.

“Well now, Sly my boy... You sure know how to put on a good show,” a familiar voice said, meeting my stunned silence with that mischievous fanged grin of his.

Prologue: Hello, My Name is Sly.

Prologue

Hello, My Name is Sly

——————

Canterlot Palace, Equestria, 2:28 a.m.

*KRISH*

Acrophobia.

I never really understood that word, or rather, the meaning behind it.

How could anybody be afraid of being on top of the world? How could they look out on something from on high, like this remarkable city that lays before me, with its breathtaking palace, golden domes, spiraling towers and cascading waterworks, all perched on a mountainside overlooking a lush, pristine valley, and not feel a sense of awe?

I have to admit though, I’m starting to have a new appreciation for the word (not to mention a few other things) as shards from a stained glass window glance off my fur and clothes, falling alongside me.

Which brings me to another big word I just recently added to the list of words I don’t like.

Defenestration: The act of throwing something through a window, putting it at the mercy of gravity.

The problem is, that when falling from the top floor of a tower as tall as this one, gravity is anything but merciful.

Oh, well. That’s why I always keep a spare para-glider tucked away in case of emergencies. It always pays to be--

*FWOOOSSSHHH-KABOOM*

Okay, another word that I realize I hate, as the smoldering tatters of my para-glider join me in my descent: Incineration.

Well, if there’s any consolation to be had as I plummet to the ground, at least I have a great view of the city below me on the way down.

...

Okay... On second thought, not really much of a consolation at all, as I can start to make out the herds of colorful, four-legged ponies below, running for their lives in a blind, terrified panic as the firestorm above me expands. Even with my back to it, facing the ground as it comes closer, I can feel the heat. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see it turning the night sky red and orange with fury as the horror I failed to prevent is unleashed upon this kind, unsuspecting world.

As my heart races and my pupils dilate, the entire world slows down around me, and I feel a familiar sensation of calm in the face of my imminent demise. It’s not the first time that my life has flashed before my eyes, but I get the feeling it might be the last.

How did I get to this point, you ask? Well, it’s a long story, actually. You might wanna make yourself comfortable.

——————

My name is Sly Cooper, and I’m a raccoon from a planet called Earth. Now, I know what you’re thinking, and as for the reason I need to point out my planet of origin, that part comes later. First, a little bit about me.

I like to consider myself an art and music enthusiast; a lover of the finer things in life. I’m also a bit of a thrill seeker, pretty good at acrobatics, and an expert at getting myself out of a bind.

Which are useful things to be when you consider I’m also a master thief.

Yep, the raccoon is a no-good thieving criminal, big surprise. I get that a lot, even though it’s kind of an unfair stereotype. Also, just because I’m technically a criminal doesn’t make me a bad person. Allow me to explain.

You see, as a member of the infamous “Cooper Clan,” I come from a long line of “master thieves” that stretches as far back as Ancient Egypt; part of a three thousand year old legacy that has been passed down from parent to child, generation after generation. A legacy that has had an impact in every age of my world, with our code, secrets, and history kept in the Cooper Family’s most prized heirloom: the legendary book known as the “Thievius Raccoonus.”

Now, we Coopers are not your common criminals by any stretch of the imagination. We live for the challenge, not the money. Greed has no meaning to a true Cooper, as we follow a path of honor, a set of guidelines followed by every single one of my ancestors.

Never harm an innocent.

Never steal from the just.

Never turn a blind eye to those in need.

Sounds like real Robin Hood kind of stuff right? Don’t be surprised. After all, he was a Cooper too.

My family made their reputations and fortunes by stealing from crime lords, tyrants, and the corrupt, with our skills and prowess growing stronger as each generation inherited the expertise of their predecessors.

These were the stories I grew up on, and my father would often go on for hours, regaling me with tales of our ancestors as well as his own exploits.

This was the legacy I was born into.

A legacy stolen from me at the age of eight, along with my parents and everything else that mattered to me, when a monstrous gang known as the Fiendish Five attacked our family home. They burned down our mansion and made off with the Thievius Raccoonus, my birthright, dividing its pages amongst themselves.

I was left alone, with nowhere to go but a local orphanage and nothing but my father’s old cane to remember him by.

Still, I guess the orphanage wasn’t all bad, though. After all, it was there that I met the two best friends that a guy could ask for.

Bentley… The guy’s a genius. He’s always been the brains of the operation.

And Murray… He’s the brawn. His muscle has saved my tail more times than I can count.

As we grew, so did our skills and reputation. We even got our own dedicated Interpol agent trying to hunt us down in the form of the lovely Inspector Carmelita Fox, playing cat and mouse with both her heart and her shock pistol.

Ah, Carmelita, my love… Life just wouldn’t be the same without you.

Together, the three of us pulled jobs all over the world, with Carmelita usually nipping right on our heels as she tried to “bring us to justice.” Sometimes I even let her catch me so we could get to know each other better, before I made a quick escape.

What can I say? I have my romantic moments.

Eventually, they all helped me avenge my parents and reclaim the Thievius Raccoonus from my family’s greatest enemy. Once it and my family secrets were back in my possession, it seemed like the good times would never end as the “Cooper Gang” pulled off heists that spread tales of our infamy across the globe. The mere mention of our names made even the hardest, toughest crime lords break out in a cold sweat as they double checked the locks on their doors and windows.

But like all roller-coaster rides, eventually, things went downhill.

Two years after we recovered the Thievius Raccoonus, a moment of distraction cost Bentley the use of his legs… confining him to a wheelchair for the rest of his life. Murray, blaming himself for our friend’s paralysis, lost his confidence… and as a result, I almost lost them both.

The life of a master thief was losing its luster. And although I didn’t realize it at the time, I was starting to look for a way out.

Then I met a guy named McSweeney, who claimed to have run with my dad’s old gang, pulling off heists all over the world.

He told me all about the legendary Cooper Vault; a secret stash containing the spoils of my ancestors’ accumulated wealth and accomplishments, hidden behind a door which only a Cooper could open. Located in the South Pacific on Kaine Island, the vault was legally owned by an obsessed scientist named Dr. M.

The crazed mandrill had spent over a decade attempting to break into the vault, with nothing to show for it except a mountain full of holes. He even built an impenetrable fortress on the island and set up a private army around the walls, growing more frustrated and paranoid as the years of failure rolled on.

Inside that vault lay my inheritance, but to even have a chance of getting past Dr. M, I would need to assemble a crew of world-class thieves, starting with the two I trusted most.

After reuniting with Bentley and Murray, we proceeded to scour the globe, spending almost a year planning, preparing, and finding the best of the best. And after facing Operatic mobsters, an evil magical mask, crazed pilots, undead mantises, and culturally-isolated pirates, we forged an unbreakable bond of trust, becoming the most formidable incarnation of the Cooper Gang in history. Together, we were prepared to pull off the heist of the century.

But Dr. M and his army of mutant monsters were ready for us.

I was injured, suffering a concussion and more than a few cracked ribs in the initial fight after we were discovered, but I wouldn’t be here discussing it with you if not for Carmelita’s timely arrival saving my tail from the fire. My crew pulled me out and managed to improvise a way though the fortress defenses in order to make one last attempt on the vault. And this time, I had to go alone.

Once inside, I found myself surrounded by piles of treasure that would make King Midas faint. Coins, jewels, and priceless artifacts worth more than even I could have imagined. And it was then, as I traversed the challenges of the vault in an effort to reach the inner sanctum, that I realized what I had really been after all along.

I realized that it had never been about the money or the fame. It had never been about the Cooper Vault. It had never even been about the Cooper legacy or the family name.

It had all been about getting my friends back into action, getting them invested and keeping things as they were.

It had all been about trying to make sure that Carmelita kept chasing after us.

It had all been because I was afraid of being left alone.

And I realized… it all had to stop.

My revelation was cut short as Dr. M blasted his way into the treasure-laden inner sanctum, having used me to find its exact location. He didn’t exactly have time to celebrate, though.

For someone so smart, you’d think he would’ve taken into consideration the effect that blowing up the inside of a mountain already drilled through like Swiss cheese would have on its stability.

But as the walls and ceiling crumbled around us, I learned the truth: Dr. M had been the third member, the “brains” of my father’s gang. He had grown bitter after years of living in my father’s shadow in spite of his own brilliance. He felt he was chiefly responsible in paving the way for their success, and saw the Cooper Fortune as rightfully belonging to him.

In my mind, the ensuing battle wasn’t as climactic as it should’ve been. I had taken down monsters bigger and badder than Dr. M. To me, it wouldn’t have even been a challenge.

But I couldn’t; my heart just wasn’t in it anymore.

When Carmelita arrived, right on cue and shouting about how we were all under arrest (as soon as she was done saving our skins), Dr. M did me the greatest favor of my life. He sent me flying with a solid blow from his mechanical arms and cracked my head on a far wall.

Carmelita, of course, came to my rescue and found me. I was dazed, confused, and clearly suffering from “amnesia.”

…Don’t look at me like that. We’d played Cops and Robbers for years, ever since we were both rookies of our respective trades. She had chased me across all seven continents and more than once swore she would bring me to justice at any cost.

So, yeah. I lied. I told her I had no idea who she was, who I was. Call me a coward if you want, but to me, it was the only way we could ever be together.

At first I was worried it would never work. After all, she was Interpol’s top agent. We’d been playing this game long enough that I had no doubt she knew me well enough to know when I was faking.

But nothing could compare with the leap my heart took when she told me who I was.

Constable Cooper… her partner.

We escaped together.

Dr. M, having obsessed over my family’s treasure for so long, refused to leave. And, like my past, he was buried under the rubble of Kaine Island.

Thankfully, my crew also managed to get away unharmed. They even found the special goodbye present I had left for them: a secondary trove separate from the main vault holding a stash that was worth millions. Enough for each of them to retire and pursue their own dreams without my interference keeping them rooted in my family’s thieving lifestyle.

That was over a year ago.

I left the criminal life behind, and Carmelita used her connections to get my old records expunged while continuing to believe in my “memory loss.” Together at Interpol, we were almost unstoppable; busting criminal organizations left and right that had been considered untouchable before we brought them down. I never knew how much fun playing the “good guy” could be, or how useful my skills were on the other side of the fence.

It was a new life... a good life. One that I could be proud of.

Good enough that I’d consider taking a risk bigger than any I’d faced during my long and illustrious career.

I thought I would never have to go back to that old life again...

But then... I met someone different. Someone who seemed like he couldn’t possibly have existed.

And he had other ideas.